Four Reasons to Die Page 4

  “Tell George we’ll go with the anthem from the first Sunday in November,” Lambert was saying. He listened for a moment, then nodded. “And the same PowerPoint, too. Tell Pastor Steve to reuse the sermon he did at the Patriots Eldercare Center.”

  Again, there was silence. “It’s only Tuesday. We’ve got plenty of time to make these changes.” A pause. “Yes, I’ll be in the office tomorrow morning. But get these items put in motion. No reason to leave things to the last minute.”

  “Who’s that?” James W. asked, looking over Matt’s shoulder.

  Before Matt could answer, the doorbell rang again. This time, Lyle appeared at the top of the stairs. “Can you get that, Pastor Hayden? We’re having an issue with Hester’s hair.”

  “This place is crazier than the Governor’s Mansion.” Matt headed for the front door, followed by James W.

  A man dressed in a dark navy uniform stood beyond the milky glass. Matt opened the door to a burly police officer with four stars on each collar point of his immaculately pressed shirt. “May I help you?” Matt asked.

  “I’m Chief Aguilar. Is Hester home?”

  James W. stepped forward, a surprised smile on his face. “Charles,” he said. “Come in.”

  “James W.” The round-faced police chief, a compact man with enough muscle to ward off thoughts of flab, broke into a smile. The two men shook hands.

  “Chief Aguilar.” James W. turned to Matt. “Let me introduce you to Pastor Matt Hayden.”

  Chief Aguilar extended his hand. “Great benediction, Pastor.” His gaze darted around the parlor. “Is Hester here?”

  “She’s upstairs, changing,” Matt answered.

  “What’s up?” James W. asked.

  Chief Aguilar’s lips pursed. “Your son has ordered his first mandate to the Austin Police Department. The special kind that skirts around protocol.”

  James W. looked taken aback. “What are you talkin’ about, Charles?”

  “Nothin’ nasty, James W. It lit a fire under me, that’s all.” Charles gave a quick glance around the room. “Reverend Duff’s been missing less than twelve hours, but Governor Novak wants him declared missing and our top priority until the man is found.”

  James W. blew out a breath. “I know he’s been worried about the man all day.”

  “So I’m here to let Hester know what’s up,” the chief explained. “Since Duff was staying here at Hester’s, this is where we’ve got to start nosing around.”

  “Makes sense,” Matt said. “And Lambert, Duff’s assistant, is still here tonight. You might want to start with him.”

  Chief Aguilar nodded. “First I’ll talk with Hester. Then I’ll check this Lambert out.”

  5

  Officially Missing

  Angie O’Day slammed down the phone located at the pass-through between the Fire and Icehouse’s kitchen and bar. She ran shaking hands through her wavy red hair, then wrapped her fingers around her skull to keep from screaming. Not again!

  Her cook, Dorothy Jo Devereaux, looked up from the onions she was chopping. “Something’s happened to Matt.” The short, heavy-set woman who had worked in the Fire and Icehouse since Angie was in diapers wasn’t asking a question.

  “That was Jimmy’s chief of staff on the phone.” Angie leaned back against the knotted pine wall. “Matt fell. Hit his head.”

  Dorothy Jo put down the knife. “Is he in the hospital?”

  “Jamal said they released him.” Angie surveyed the crowded room. She couldn’t leave to be with her fiancé, could she? Every citizen of Jimmy’s hometown seemed to have come to her bar to celebrate his inauguration. The Fire and Icehouse had, at one time, actually been Wilks’ firehouse. The bays for the trucks had been divided into two rooms. The front held the bar, complete with tables and booths and plenty of televisions. The back room was packed with pool tables, skeet ball shoots and pinball machines, as well as tables for teams to play trivia. Every table—hell, almost every wall space—was taken up by the revelers. Even with the cool night and threatening showers, customers spilled out through the patio doors and onto the party deck beyond. In the time it had taken for her to answer the phone and digest Jamal’s message, at least ten orders for drinks had spat out of the computerized ordering system. She picked up the oldest order, grabbed four shot glasses and lined them up on the counter.

  “Do you need to go pick him up?” Dorothy Jo asked as the kitchen ordering system came to life. She ripped the paper off its printer.

  Angie rimmed each glass with salt, then scooped ice into a cocktail shaker. “He can’t come home. The doctor wants him to stay in Austin for the rest of the week. Just in case.” She dumped some reposado into the shaker, capped it and began shaking.

  “Where’s he staying?” Dorothy Jo ladled a glob of queso into a bowl already filled with guacamole and chorizo.

  “I don’t know. The Governor’s Mansion, I guess. Jamal said it’d be best for me to wait and come tomorrow.” She topped the shot glasses with wedges of lime and nodded to the waitress that they were ready to serve. “Matt’s doing okay. What he needs tonight is rest.”

  Dorothy Jo scooped warm tortilla chips into a bowl and added it to the serving tray holding the queso dip. “Maybe. But it might do you a world of good. You’re white as a sheet.”

  Maybe, Angie thought. Or maybe she needed a break from worrying about Matt.

  Bo, loaded down with supplies, came hurrying through the kitchen’s back door. He and Angie scrambled to restock the limes and ice and liquor that had been running low. Angie picked up the next drink order, grabbed two frosted mugs and set them under the Fireman’s Four beer tap.

  No. Dorothy Jo was wrong about her needing to see Matt. Tonight, all she wanted to do was make drinks, wash glasses and make some more drinks. A nonstop, don’t-think-about-anything pace would keep her from worrying over Matt.

  And from wondering why the last thing she wanted to do was be with him.

  With the news that Hester was still getting ready, Chief Aguilar decided to take Matt’s advice and talk with Reverend Duff’s assistant, Pastor Lamber. So summoned, Lambert, his face looking more dismal than it had that morning on the Governor’s Mansion’s balcony, joined Matt, James W. and Chief Aguilar in the parlor.

  “You wanted to see me, Chief Aguilar?” Lambert asked, refusing to sit.

  The Austin Police Department head pushed off the mantel and walked over to Lambert. “I got a call from the governor. He wants me to look into the whereabouts of your boss.”

  Lambert’s heavy-lidded eyes opened slightly. “Reverend Duff?”

  Matt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Reverend Duff.

  Lambert held Aguilar’s gaze for a moment, then nodded. “I’m concerned he may have run into trouble.”

  Curious, Matt thought. Lambert didn’t appear concerned. Inconvenienced, perhaps. Something in Matt’s gut stirred. A sixth sense that had developed inside of him when he’d been a cop. He looked over at James W., who sat in the wingback chair. The two of them shared a suspicious look but said nothing. This was Aguilar’s turf.

  “Why did the governor call you?” Lambert asked.

  “He’s the one who invited Reverend Duff to speak today, so naturally he’s concerned that the man’s missing. Plus, I understand the governor received a call from Reverend Duff’s wife.”

  “Shelly?” Lambert lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “She’s been very excitable lately.”

  Aguilar’s gaze sharpened. “Was there trouble between her and her husband?”

  “Hardly. She’s pregnant. Due any day now. That’s why she didn’t accompany Reverend Duff to Austin. Too long a drive. Our church is in San Antonio, you know.”

  “I understand you’ve been calling around, trying to find Reverend Duff. Have you learned anything?”

  “No.”

  “When was the last time you saw Reverend Duff?”

  Lambert sniffed. “I dropped him off at St. George Episcopal on my way to the prayer breakfast this morning. “

  “Why?” Aguilar pressed.

  “Reverend Duff likes to meditate before speaking to a large crowd. He knows the bishop at the church quite well and asked if he could take a few moments for silent reflection in St. George’s beautiful sanctuary. The bishop said ‘of course.’” Lambert shrugged. “I never saw him after I dropped him off.”

  Lyle appeared in the archway. “Sorry. That took longer than we expected.” His gaze settled on Chief Aguilar. “Is something wrong?”

  Aguilar ignored the question. “May I speak with Hester please?”

  “She’ll be down in a minute.” Lyle surveyed the scene and must have noted the somber mood of the room. “May I get you some refreshments? Tea? Something stronger?”

  “Water, maybe,” Matt said.

  Lyle’s eyes rounded in horror. “Oh dear, I haven’t gotten your water yet. And your soup! Oh, dear.” He turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen. “Hester,” Matt heard him call. “Chief Aguilar is here to see you.”

  “Chief Aguilar?” Hester’s contralto sounded surprised. He heard light footsteps coming down the stairs, then Hester appeared in the archway. Matt sucked in his breath.

  Hester, her silver hair swept up in a loose chignon, looked like a Mt. Olympus goddess. The iridescent ice-blue gown swept over her shoulders, tapered to her trim waist, then flowed into a sweep of lustrous layers that promised to glow and shift and scintillate across many dance floors that night.

  For a moment, the men in the room could only stare. Chief Aguilar was the first to recover. “The governor’s asked me to look into finding Reverend Duff.”

  She flinched. “You expect foul play.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “What can I do to help?”

  “I’d like t
o see his room, please. Where he stayed last night.”

  “Of course, Charles. Anything you need.” She called through the archway. “Lyle?”

  She turned back to the chief. “My driver will be here any moment to take to me the Governor’s Ball. Unless you want me to cancel my plans for tonight?”

  Aguilar’s lips hinted at a smile. “Not if you’ll allow me to escort you for the evening.”

  “Witness protection, hey?”

  Matt’s stomach lurched at Hester’s words. He’d been in the Fed’s Witness Protection Program for five long years. It was no joking matter.

  Apparently, Hester saw his grimace. “Pastor Hayden. I didn’t ask how you’re doing.”

  Matt smiled. “Tired, but good enough not to be admitted to the hospital. I appreciate your putting me up for the night.”

  “For the week,” she corrected him. “I’m sorry as can be that I bullied you into having that beer when I knew you were still recovering.”

  Matt straightened. “I’m a grown man, Ms. Honeywell. I could’ve said no.”

  “And I’m a hustler, Pastor Hayden. It’s what I do best.” She raised her chin. “You will call me Hester from now on.”

  He nodded. “And I’m Matt.”

  “Or Preacher,” James W. interjected. “That’s what we call him in Wilks.”

  “Good. Glad we got that settled.” Her smile almost made Matt forget the lousy day he’d had.

  Lyle appeared in the archway with Matt’s water and set it down on the coffee table. “Yes, Hester?”

  “The chief would like to see Reverend Duff’s room. Show him up, please.” She turned back to the parlor. “You’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I must finish getting ready.” In a swirl of ice-blue luster, she flowed out of the room.

  Aguilar turned to Pastor Lambert. “I’d like you to come with.”

  Pastor Lambert huffed. “I have to be getting on the road. I want to be in San Antonio before ten.”

  Aguilar’s gaze went flat. “I’d like you to stay in town tonight, if that’s all right.”

  Lambert cleared his throat abruptly. “That won’t be possible.”

  Aguilar’s eyes bore into him. “Is there a problem?”

  “With Reverend Duff missing, I must get back to San Antonio to take care of the church. We worship 17,000 people every weekend. I can’t wait until Thursday to begin preparations for Sunday services.”

  “There’s always the phone,” Matt said, then immediately wished the words back.

  Lambert stared at him, his eyebrows slanted angrily.

  Matt shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

  Aguilar studied the two but let the moment pass. “Nevertheless, I need you available for questioning.”

  Lambert’s chin went up. “If that’s your final word, I need to call my staff and let them know I won’t be at work tomorrow. My phone’s over at the guesthouse. I’ll meet you at Reverend Duff’s room.”

  Aguilar waited for Lambert to leave, then turned to Matt. “What was that all about?”

  Matt closed his eyes. He did not want to get involved in this. In fact, Dr. Ryan would have his head if she knew he was anywhere near a police investigation.

  But a cop didn’t hold back evidence from another cop.

  “James W. and I heard Lambert down here making arrangements for Duff’s absence right before you got here.”

  Aguilar looked at James W. “You heard that?”

  “Yep. Said something about getting a pastor to preach a sermon that he’d done back in November. And something about the choir anthem?” James W. glanced back at Matt.

  Matt nodded. “And the PowerPoint.”

  James W. pulled himself out of the wingback chair and hitched his thumbs in his belt. “If you’re open to suggestions—” He let the words hang.

  “Go ahead,” Aguilar nodded.

  James W. lowered his voice. “I’d secure Reverend Duff’s bedroom as soon as possible.”

  “I hear you, though it may be too late. I’ve got crime scene tape in the car. What else?”

  James W. slapped a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Pastor Hayden here used to be a cop. He’s helped me on several murder cases. Has a sixth sense about how things go down. You’d be smart to listen to him if he comes up with anything.”

  Aguilar’s gaze shifted to Matt. “You were a cop?’

  Matt straightened. “Yes, sir. Four years. Special Investigations Department of the Miami P.D.”

  “What did you investigate?”

  “I was undercover in the drug enforcement program.”

  Aguilar’s dark eyebrows raised. “That takes some cojones, son.” He looked down at Matt’s cane. “Is that how your leg got busted up?”

  “No, sir.” Matt smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t get shot until I became a pastor.” Although not exactly the correct context, he needed to lighten the mood.

  “Well, since you’re stayin’ here, keep your eyes open. Let me know if you see anything suspicious.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll get the tape.” Aguilar started for the door, then turned. “Pastor Hayden, why don’t you come upstairs with Lambert and me. I could use another set of eyes. Especially a preacher’s.”

  “Sure.” Matt listened for the front door to close behind Aguilar, then glared at James W. “You shouldn’t’ve told him I was a cop. I’m not supposed to get excited about things right now.”

  “You don’t need to get excited. You need to keep your eyes open is all.” The cell phone in his pocket rang, and he pulled it out. He hung his head. “It’s Elsbeth.”

  Matt’s face paled. “Heck, James W. You’re supposed to go to that Governor’s Ball, too.”

  James W. nodded miserably as he answered the phone. “Hey, Elsbeth.” He winced as Elsbeth let loose on the other end of the line. “Jimmy’s not going to be there for another half hour.” Matt could hear Elsbeth’s high-pitched voice, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying. “Yes, Elsbeth,” James W. said. “I’ll be right there, Elsbeth.” She started to add something, but James W. cut her off. “Honey, the longer we talk on the phone, the later I’m gonna get to the mansion to change.”

  That seemed to do the trick, and James W. ended the call. “I gotta go.”

  “You think?” Matt tried hard not to chuckle. “Cheer up, James W. This is only gonna last four years.”

  James W. glared at Matt as he returned the phone to his pocket.

  “Unless Jimmy gets reelected.” Matt was having too much fun. “Come to think of it, Texas governors don’t have term limits, do they? This could go on for decades.”

  James W. turned on his heel and headed for the front door.

  “Of course, you could always—”

  James W. held up a finger. “One more word, Preacher, and your flour sack’s gonna be full of weevils.”

  Matt had no idea what that meant, but he bowed his head in surrender.

  “That’s better.” James W. allowed a pleased nod, then hurried out the front door.

  Feeling good for the first time all day, Matt sat down on the settee and finally had that drink of water.

  6

  Lambert Speaks His Mind

  Reverend Duff’s room was across the backyard in Hester’s guesthouse. Lyle explained that Hester had bought the house behind the Victorian mansion and connected the two abodes with a solarium. Now the Craftsman-style home was used to house the guests of bigwigs in town, including the governor.

  And what a house. According to Lyle, the main floor of the home was dedicated to the art of socializing, complete with large halls, winding staircases and an industrial kitchen. Lyle led them to an elevator off the main foyer and held the door back for Matt and Aguilar to enter. “The guest suites are upstairs.”

  When they reached the second floor, Lyle led the way down a long hallway lined with doors opening to bedrooms beyond. “Reverend Duff’s room and Pastor Lambert’s room are across the hall from each other on the far end.”

  Matt resisted the urge to let out a low whistle at the elegant embellishments of coffered ceilings, plush carpeting and gilded mirrors. Narrow hall tables holding flowers and other knickknacks were spaced between the bedrooms. Chief Aguilar walked over to one and grabbed a tissue from an ornate box.