Chapter Three
by Toni Walker
I thought I was going to make an early night of it, but Delilah McQuade's death put a damper on my plans.
I don't know why I was surprised to find Delilah's body shoved into a dumbwaiter, but I was. You think I'd be used to it by now. Dead bodies just seem to find me. I was beginning to think I was cursed. But how dumb with that curse be? You're cursed to trip over dead bodies and solve their murders. Then again, as curses went, there were probably dumber ones than that.
Pastor Jenkins was beside himself. Distraught was too tame a word for his condition. He was completely losing it. After the police, I'd called
Porsche. When it came to stressful situations she was the calm in the storm.
The pastor latched onto her side and she let him blubber about Delilah's untimely death while his wife Mavis stared at her with narrowed eyes. Geoffrey leaned against the piano looking bored and unaffected. This woman who was pushing daisies had spent a lot of time with both men. I considered it unusual that Geoffrey couldn't even pretend to care the woman was deceased. What a tool. I was losing respect for him hand over fist.
The police had separated me and Tara almost from the beginning. I guess they wanted us to get our stories straight without us influencing each other. I been down this road before.
I saw Tara briefly as the detective let her go and asked her to be available for more questioning at a later time. She didn't wave as she left, merely nodded toward me acknowledging the fact that she was done and it was my turn.
"Miss O'Reilly? Would you mind joining me in the office?" The lanky detective motion for me to follow him. My body complied even though my brain went suddenly blank. I had a phobia that taking tests when I was in high school A fear that suddenly erupted in my brain. Would that translate into sucking at being a witness to?
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said conversationally. My name is Nate and I'm a detective with the Park Ridge Police Department. I understand you were in the room when the deceased was discovered."
I stared back at him, my mind still blank. Test anxiety all over again. My mind was focusing everywhere except the question. I noticed his manicured nails and recent haircut. His dark brown hair wasn't too short and I was glad. It looked better on him like that. Not that I'd ever seen him before. I just imagined it looked better. He was cute. I could go for a guy who looked like that.
Hello. My mind was a whirling a mile a minute. I definitely was not good at this witness thing. I attempted to focus in again, but noticed how his white buttoned-up shirt stretched across his chest. They were accentuated nicely by the shoulder holster he had on. His five o'clock shadow was going on ten pm. His slate blue eyes glittered as the overhead light touched his face. I was a goner.
"Did you hear me, Mrs. O'Reilly?" he said again. I snapped back into focus and let go of the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Call me Megan," I told him breathlessly. "Everyone calls me Megan."
He leaned into the church secretary's desk and crossed his arms. "Alright, Megan. Then what happened tonight?"
I told him about my professor Dr. Bruce Lindstrom and how he and Tara had cooked up this cockamamie plan to help me with my creative writing assignment. I explained about the cloaked figure and my now sore butt. Everything I'd done the last two days came spilling forth like a flood of memories and I was deluging him with it all.
He didn't seem to be writing any of it down so maybe he was humoring me, feeling sorry for how sucky a witness I was. I kept talking until there was nothing more to relate and I leaned back in the chair exhausted.
"Woah, this witness thing is a tough gig," I said gulping in air.
"Did you happen to see the face of the person who bumped into you?" Detective Nate asked.
"Heck, I didn't even know they were there until suddenly they were. It was very dark on the far side of the room. And come to think of it, why were they wearing a cloak? It's been over 100° for the last five days straight."
"We did recover a blanket on the floor of the foyer. Maybe this was your cloak?"
"Maybe, I can't be certain. I was too busy trying to catch myself from falling than noticing too many key details." I said. You see, if this had happened to anyone else, you'd have more facts. I'm not even a member of this church. I don't know anyone except Tara - oh and Geoffrey from when he was on TV.
The detective let me loose not long later giving me the same line as Tara to not leave town and be available for further questions. When I looked out the front door many church members had gather together in the parking lot like paparazzi stalking a celebrity. I did not want to be attacked by that mob.
I found another exit on the far side of the building and began my walk home.
