I followed Mrs. Ellis’ gaze. All around the church, mourners gathered in small groups, talking in hushed voices and glancing over the stalls as they waited for the service to begin. Standing apart from the crowd, on the steps at the back of the church, were Dorothy Ingram and Ginny Button. They bent their heads together in intense conversation.
“Dorothy would never associate with the likes of Ginny, a harlot bearing a child out of wedlock,” Mrs. Ellis tapped her chin. “What could be going on?”
My heart plunged to my knees as several elements clicked into place.What’s going on is that Dorothy Ingram has it out for the immoral Banned Book Club, and especially their outspoken leader. If she wanted to hurt Mrs. Scarlett, she’d need someone on the inside to do it. Someone like Ginny.
“Morrie, help the customers!” I cried, pushing my way through the crowd. I pressed myself up against the side of the church and peered at the ground, pretending to look for a lost piece of jewelry along the edge of the garden. I felt my way along the wall, creeping close to where the two ladies stood. I strained to hear what they were saying.
“… got her out of the way for you…” Dorothy said, casting a furtive glance around the church car park. She didn’t sound so high and righteous now, and she leaned heavily on the stick, as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. “She’s paid for her sins, and now you and I have no more business together.”
“We’re not done here,” Ginny said. “There’s something else you’re going to do for me.”
“I’m not your puppet, Miss Button. God detests a blackmailer.”
“He also detests amurderer, Dorothy. I hope you’re not threatening me, you self-righteous cow,” Ginny made a big show of yawning and fondling her diamond-and-ruby necklace. “I don’t care what God thinks of me. I only care about getting what I want. You do what I’m asking, or the whole village will know your filthy little secret.”
“We’ll see about that!” Dorothy huffed. She spun on her heels and stormed away.
Ginny as good as said that Dorothy’s a murderer!I’d expected to hear Dorothy threaten Ginny to keep quiet, not the other way around. But there was no mistaking what I’d heard. Dorothy said, “I’ve taken care of her for you.” Theherwas Mrs. Scarlett.
But how did she kill Gladys Scarlett with arsenic if they weren’t close friends, and why did Ginny want her dead?
I rushed back to our table, desperate to tell Morrie what I’d heard, but he’d been surrounded by several teenage girls from the youth group. They batted their eyelids at him and gushed over his clothes and asked him all sorts of questions. He was lapping it up. Sighing, I left him to his adoring crowd and started packing the books back into boxes, watching as rows of mourners filed into the church. The other members of the Banned Book Club huddled together at the entrance, handing out programs and pulling handkerchiefs from their sleeves to blow their noses. Mrs. Winstone flashed me a kind smile as she dabbed at her eyes. Bells peeled across the village, and the sound of dreary hymns floated over the parking lot.
Forty-five minutes later, Morrie and I had sold a stack of vampire novels to the teenagers and a set of old bibles to the vicar’s son, and packed all the boxes back into the trolleys. Beside us, Helmut was doing a roaring trade – he’d completely sold out of wine racks and was taking orders for more.I guess it’s okay to promote the evils of alcohol at the church fete, but not the perils of reading?
With a final dreadful hymn, the service concluded. Mourners trickled out of the church, and the funeral procession made its way across the road to the cemetery. As the heavy mahogany coffin made its way through the carpark, I raised my hand and threw devil horns.
Rest in peace, Mrs. Scarlett. I hope you’re up in heaven, causing all sorts of mayhem. I hope—
A piercing scream interrupted my thoughts. I whirled around. Mrs. Ellis raced from the church, her usually-red cheeks pale, her hands waving frantically. The procession stopped in its tracks and every face in the crowd swung around to gape at her.
“Come quick!” she screamed. “Oh, it’s terrible!”
Morrie dropped the trolley handles and raced toward the church. I sprinted after him, shoving my way through the confused crowd of mourners at the entrance. Morrie poked his head into the church and withdrew, his mouth set in a firm line. He threw his arms in front of the door, blocking the way with his body. Mrs. Ellis fell into my arms, sobbing on my shoulder.
“I forgot my shawl. I just c-c-came back inside to collect it,” she sobbed. “And I s-s-saw her.”
‘Saw what?” I scrambled toward the door. The conversation between Dorothy Ingram and Ginny Button playing over in my head.What happened?
Morrie threw out a hand to stop me. “Mina, don’t—”
Ignoring him, I slipped under his arm and stepped into the church. Candles flickered from sconces beside the doors and on the altar, doing little to light up the dim space. I squinted into the gloom, trying to discern what had frightened Mrs. Ellis. I couldn’t see anything amiss.
As I moved into the light cast by the stained glass windows, I noticed a crumpled pile of clothing at the bottom of the spiral staircase leading up to the bell tower.
Oh, no.
I stepped closer.
That’s not clothes.
I took another step, peering down at the sprawled figure. Ginny Button lay at the bottom of the stairs, her dress torn. Blood pooled between her legs, and her neck was twisted at an impossible angle.
Chapter Eighteen
Heart racing, I knelt down in front of Ginny Button and checked for a pulse. There was none. Her glassy eyes stared up at me, silent and accusing, as if I was the one who’d pushed her. I pulled out my phone and dialed an ambulance. Ginny might be gone, but if there was a chance her baby could be saved—
“Hi… we need an ambulance at the Argleton Presbyterian Church. A woman has fallen down the stairs.” Morrie’s hands wrapped around my body, and he pulled me against him. “She doesn’t have a pulse, but she’s pregnant. Yes… yes… thank you.”
