The Diva Wore Diamonds (18 page)

“
But I’m picking it,” I said, my voice getting smaller. “Because I’m the director.”

“
I saw some kids do a Jonah and the Whale thing over in Johnson City last year,” said Steve. “It was a Lutheran Church, I think. I’ll bet I could find out the name of it.”

“
You see,” I muttered. “I agreed to this because Meg said I would get to choose the music. I was thinking that maybe we’d learn some two-part Heinrich Schütz motets in the original German…”

“
Jonah and the Whale would be great!” said Bev. “Or maybe another Bible story. I’m sure that Hayden can find us one.”

“
This will be fun,” said Meg. “I’ll help make the costumes.”

“
Me, too!” said Muffy. “And I can help with make-up.”

“
We’ll build the sets,” said Phil. The rest of the men agreed enthusiastically.

“
If we can get the music fairly quickly,” said Sheila, “rehearsals can start next week. Then the kids could put it on in July.”

“
Great idea,” agreed Bev.

“
Because I’m the one in charge,” I sighed.

Chapter 12

“
I have the list,” said Nancy. “I got it from Kimberly Walnut, then confirmed it with Vera Kendrick, the children’s minister from New Fellowship Baptist.”

“
Let’s hear it,” said Pete.

“
Hey,” I said. “This is police business.”

“
Sorry,” said Pete.

“
So let’s hear it,” I said.

The Slab Café seemed to stay busy from June straight through to Labor Day. Pete had an “owner’s table” by the kitchen, so it was no problem getting a seat, but getting served was another matter entirely. Noylene was busier than a one-armed paper hanger, and Pauli Girl was hustling as well. Cynthia, our mayor, wasn’t on the waitress schedule this morning.

“
Be with you in a bit,” said Noylene as she raced by. “Help yourself to some coffee.”

Dave got up and retrieved the coffee pot from the burner. We all held up our empty cups in salute. Dave filled them and then dutifully filled all the cups that the rest of the patrons held aloft as soon as they spied him with a coffee pot.

“
Now,” I said, once the coffee was poured and Dave had rejoined our table. “Let’s hear the list.”

“
Well,” said Nancy, flipping her pad open. “The adults from New Fellowship Baptist who were there for the last bit of
The Stoning of Stephen
skit are as follows. Vera Kendrick. She’s the children’s minister. The woman working at the basket shop was Jenny Thatcher.”

“
I don’t know her,” I said. “You?”

“
Nope,” said Nancy. “She may not be from St. Germaine. I’ll get addresses and phone numbers on all these folks.”

I nodded.

“
Jenny’s husband, Jeremy, was there, too. He was working in the carpenter’s tent. They have a six-year-old and an eight-year-old. Both kids were enrolled.”

“
Okay,” I said. “Who else?”

“
The girl in the dye shop, the one that said ‘Lydia’ on the outside, is named Diana Terry. She’s a retired teacher.”

“
Ah, I didn’t recognize her,” I said. “I know Diana. I don’t think she’s a suspect.”

“
Why not?” asked Dave.

“
She’s an ex-nun,” I said. “Call it a hunch.”

“
The two soldiers are named John Perdue and Jimmy Tinsdale. College students, home for the summer. They’re both on the NFB praise team. The man playing the beggar was Mitch St. Claire. Mitch was the only one of the bunch who was at the Bear and Brew the morning it burned down. The weekend before that, he was arrested in Greenville, South Carolina, at a men’s Bible conference called
Jesus 2.0—Retool and Reload.
He punched out one of the presenters.”

“
A fight?”

“
More like a mugging. The pastor pressed charges. Mitch St. Claire was arrested and spent the night in lock-up.”

“
Hmm. Interesting.”

“
The two college kids didn’t even get home till the Saturday before the Bible Bazaar. They weren’t in town for Brother Hog’s protest.”

“
Let’s talk to them, anyway,” I said. “The Thatchers, too. But Brother Mitch sounds like he might be bearing the brunt of our perlustration.”

“
Huh?” said Dave.

“
Bring him in,” I said.

•••

Father Tony was walking his beagle in Sterling Park when he saw me and motioned me over with a wave. He was dressed in his civvies, that is, a polo shirt and khakis instead of his black shirt and collar and his dress grays. His white hair was as thick as it ever was, and he looked to be in great shape for a man in his seventies. Sparkling blue eyes looked kindly on everyone he met from behind round, tortoise-shell glasses.

“
Good news,” he said, smiling. “My second retirement is coming to fruition a tad early.”

“
Really? What’s up?”

“
St. Barnabas found a priest.”

“
That was quick. Did we use a headhunter?”

“
Nope. Didn’t need to.”

“
Well, fill me in. Who is it?”

“
It’s Gaylen. Gaylen Weatherall.”

“
She’s the Bishop of Colorado,” I said.

“
Soon to be retired. Her father had moved out there after her mother died, but can’t deal with the altitude. He’s got emphysema.”

“
So she’s coming back here? As a priest?”

“
We offered her the job, and she accepted. She’ll be back next month. I might add that, even though she retired from the episcopate, she’s still a bishop. The Right Reverend Rector of St. Barnabas.”

“
That’s great!” I said. “I know you’re happy.”

“
You bet I am,” said Father Tony. “I’m going to visit Wes, Carol and the kids for a few months. Did you know they moved to Florida?”

“
I didn’t know that, but it sounds like fun. You need to see those grandkids.”

“
You ain’t kiddin’!”

•••

“
Did you hear the news?” asked Georgia as I walked into the bookstore.

“
Father Tony just told me.”

“
Isn’t it wonderful?”

“
Yeah, great. Do you have a copy of
Playback?
It’s Raymond Chandler. I can’t find my copy anywhere.”

“
No, but I can order it for you,” said Georgia.

“
Then do so at once, my good woman.”

Georgia laughed. “It’ll be here in a couple of days.”

“
I’ll check back,” I said as I turned to leave. “Thanks.”

I walked out onto the sidewalk, squinted my eyes against the sun, and wondered if Meg might need a hand sorting out some rather egregious investment problem over a cup of tea.

“
Chief Konig,” said a voice behind me. I turned and saw Brianna Stafford standing in front of me. Her hands were clasped in front of her, resting nervously on her tennis skirt. She had a lime-green sweater draped loosely around her shoulders, and her bottle-blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. One expensive white tennis shoe was tapping absently on the pavement.

“
Brianna. How’re you doing?”

“
Okay, I guess.”

“
Can I help you?”

“
I need to show you something. Would you come over to the house?”

“
Sure. Now?”

“
Uh huh. I’m just around the corner and down the street.”

“
Let’s go, then,” I said with a smile.

We walked down Main Street, away from the square, into one of the old established neighborhoods. I knew exactly where Brianna Stafford lived. Hers was one of the largest houses in the downtown area, originally built as a summer residence for an Atlanta banker. Brianna didn’t say anything on our walk over. She kept her eyes facing front and her back straight, walking at a clip that I had to hustle to match.

We turned up the walk and ascended the granite steps onto the massive wrap-around porch whereupon Brianna pulled a key out of her pocket, unlocked the front door and walked into the house ahead of me. The hallway was full of boxes, sealed with packing tape and labeled with their contents.

“
You’re leaving?”

“
I can’t live here anymore. I’m moving back to Auburn. That’s where my family is.”

“
I understand. When will you be leaving?”

“
In a couple of weeks, I guess. I have some things packed up,—” she gestured toward the boxes in the hall,—“but I still have to sell the house.”

“
What is it you wanted to show me?”

“
In here,” she said.

Brianna led me into a large room off the hallway. Large shelves covered the walls, floor to ceiling, and were loaded with hundreds of books in leather bindings of various colors. I tipped one out and ran a finger over the dust on the golden page edges.
Middlemarch
by George Eliot. Unread. Probably all of them. There was a huge, overstuffed leather couch in front of a fireplace flanked by two matching arm chairs. Against one wall was an antique desk, French, by the looks of it. There were some files stacked on one end; an expensive laptop in the center; and various electronic accessories, including an iPod, a USB hub, some speakers and a large monitor that Russ could plug into if he wanted a big screen.

“
This was Russ’ office,” she said flatly. “I was packing up his desk when I found that.” She pointed to a manila envelope sitting beside the laptop. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows.

“
Go ahead. Open it.”

I walked over to the desk, picked up the envelope, opened it and poured five uncut diamonds onto the desk.

“
Russ never told me anything about them,” Brianna said. “But when I saw them I knew they were just like the ones that were in the time capsule.”

“
They sure look like it,” I said. “There wasn’t a note or anything?”

Brianna shook her head. “Do you think he stole them from St. Barnabas?” she asked in a small voice.

“
No,” I said. “Noylene said he was trying to buy her place. I’ll bet he found them up there.”

Brianna relaxed visibly. “I was so scared,” she said. “I prayed they weren’t from the church. We’ve been working with the youth group. Afterglow.”