“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to share that.”
His brow furrowed, suggesting frustration.
I flashed a friendly smile, trying to look like I was on his side. “I wish I could, but the police made me promise not to divulge the details.... What can you tell me about the retreat center at Sunset Bay?”
Nolan sighed, suddenly looking preoccupied, perhaps with my comment about the caller having observed us. “Not much really. I was vaguely aware the center was there, but it closed down before I began serving as a deacon. And even if things had still been operational, I probably wouldn’t have spent any time there.”
“You don’t get involved in retreats?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have at that location. Our parish apparently used it for retreats on only rare occasions.”
“Really? Why?”
“It wasn’t much of a retreat setting for people who live near the lake year-round. From what I’ve been told, the center was reserved mostly by other parishes in the diocese. It wouldbe a special treat for members of their congregations to spend a few days on the lake.”
I hadn’t ever thought of that, but I guessed it made sense.
“Did anyone from this parish ever work there, do you know?”
“Not that I’m aware of. It was really run by the diocese.”
“Back to Shannon Blaine for a second. I know she’d been back at church for only a few months, but did you ever notice anything unusual? Someone paying too much attention to her?”
“You mean, was someoneobsessedwith her?”
“It doesn’t have to be obsessed. Checking her out a little too closely, for instance. Overly curious.”
“No, nothing like that. Of course, she was a beautiful woman, and people noticed her.”
And was Nolan one of them? I wondered.
“It must be gratifying to have someone come back into the fold.”
The muscles in his face sagged, leaving his face without expression, though his eyes were alert, as if he’d picked up a sound that was inaudible to me, like a border collie hearing a dog whistle.
“Itisgratifying, yes,” he said, “and we do what we can to support those people as best we can. Her death is a tragedy on many levels, including the loss it means for this community. Excuse me now. I see there’s a couple of parishioners waiting to speak to me.”
He strode across the foyer and out onto the top step of the church, where he struck up a conversation with twomiddle-aged women. I couldn’t tell if one of them had tried to catch his eye, or he’d simply taken advantage of their presence to escape from me.
I scurried past the group and splashed my way back to my Jeep. I hadn’t wanted to show up at the church with a pen and notebook in hand, but now I took the time to quickly scribble down what Kelly and Nolan had shared and then review their comments in my mind.
I’d managed to score only a couple of minutes with Shannon’s sister, but the encounter had been enlightening on several fronts. First, there was the fact that Kelly didn’t know why Shannon had come back to St. Tim’s, which was interesting in itself. Based on what Matt Wong had revealed, there may have been a rift between them, even real antagonism.
I couldn’t ignore Kelly’s remark about people sometimes rejoining the church to make amends. Had there been a reason for Shannon to make amends to her sister?
There was also the revelation that Kelly didn’t consider J.J. a friend. So, clearly Doug hadn’t stopped by J.J.’s in order to receive succor from a good pal or return the platter for cold cuts that J.J. had dropped off earlier at the Claibornes’. I wondered if Shannon had learned of the affair or at the very least had developed an inkling.
Of course, in the big picture, none of this family drama probably mattered, and I couldn’t allow myself to be sidetracked. But itintriguedme, and maybe, just maybe, it related in some way to Shannon’s death. What if Shannon had felt guilty abouta transgression she’d committed against her sister or about the friction in the family that had resulted from Cody’s taking over at Baker Beverage? She might have returned to the church for spiritual guidance on how to reconnect with her sister and mentioned her own failings and/or moral shortcoming to someone in the congregation.
Which brought me back to the idea I’d toyed with last night: the killer might be a man hell-bent, so to speak, on punishing women who had sinned.
I wondered if Tom Nolan had a harsh view of female sinners.
It was almost eleven thirty by this point, and I was due back at the Breezy Point. Time to peel off my wet boots and pretty up for my video session, as much as I wasn’t relishing it.
I stopped in the village to buy two slices of pizza to go and then headed north along Route 9N, consumed again by thoughts of the case. My attention was diverted briefly by a closed liquor store along the right side of the road. Damn. I’d promised Alice I’d arrive bearing wine, but I realized there wasn’t going to be any way to buy it on a Sunday. I called her from the parking lot of the motel.
“Hey, hi,” she said when she realized it was me. She sounded distracted.
