They didn’t pass another car on their way to the church. If anyone peeked out their window, the pastor’s Cadillac would be recognizable to those who attended church. Which was to say,everyone. But Cordelia had specifically asked for the most nondescript car on the lot. With any luck, no one would glance twice at her vehicle.
Right before the entrance to the church, Cordelia shut off her headlights and pulled around to the back to park. She popped the trunk and stared down at the pastor, right where they’d left him. Moving his body still didn’t feel right, but they were in deep now.
Belinda Sue stepped up beside her, flipping through the keys on a keychain engraved with the Lord’s Prayer. “Which one of these do you suppose opens the church?”
Arline took Cordelia’s emergency blanket out of the back, wrapped it around her hand, and punched through a glass window in the back door.
“Gosh darn it, Arline.” Belinda Sue scowled. “We had the keys right here.”
“Why did you feel the need to break the window?” Cordelia steepled her fingers and pressed them against her lips to keep from screaming. “Now it looks like a crime scene when he was supposed to have died here alone.”
“It’s my fault for letting her come along. Arline gets a thrill out of breaking the law. It’s why we can’t take her anywhere.” Belinda Sue once again took charge and motioned for Cordelia and Daisy to follow her. “Let’s go find us a cart or one of them rolling chairs.”
The church didn’t turn on their air until June, but May in South Texas could get hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch. Not exactly an ideal condition for storing a body. Though Cordelia figured better a hot church than the cool satin sheets at the Chickadee. The broken window would be a problem, but nothing they could do about it now.
As they crept through the church, every creak and groan made them jump. Pipes. Just the pipes. Not God coming down from on high to personally smite them.
Seeing as the four of them weren’t regulars at church, it took them a while to locate the pastor’s office. The desk was solid oak with various chips and nicks that spoke to its age. Shelves stuffed with books on theology lined the walls. A picture of the pastor proudly shaking hands with Kirk Cameron was the focal point of the room.
The pastor did indeed have one of those rolling chairs, high-backed black leather with a plush seat. On top of his desk, papers with next week’s sermon, fully written, were spread about. Belinda Sue clicked on the desk lamp. Arline swiped a stapler and a paperweight and tucked them into the pocket of her floral caftan.
“This is a real nice office.” Daisy trailed the tip of her finger over a divot in the desk. “I think he would’ve liked knowing we brought him here.”
Belinda Sue wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. “Let’s just hope he puts in a good word for us with the man upstairs.”
She grabbed the chair and rolled it down the hall. A single squeaky wheel created a seesaw rhythm Cordelia found oddly comforting. Her gaze darted around the walls, picking out faces she recognized from her childhood in the potluck and fundraiser photos. She couldn’t quite remember their names. They sifted like sand through her faraway memories.
Hauling the body out of the trunk ended up being easier than lifting it in. Cordelia and Belinda Sue ended up doing most of the work. Daisy couldn’t look at the pastor’s crumpled form without tearing up again, and Arline didn’t make any move to contribute.
They had just wheeled the pastor into his office when a distant shrieking caught Cordelia’s attention. “Does anyone else hear that?”
“Honey, I can’t hear my TV when it’s at top volume and I’m sitting right in front of it,” Belinda Sue said. “Can you be a little more specific?”
“It sounds like...” Cordelia strained her ears and all the color drained from her face. “It sounds like police sirens.”
“Arline probably triggered an alarm.” Belinda Sue practically shoved them out the door. “That’s our cue to hit the road.”
Belinda Sue, Daisy, and, much to Cordelia’s surprise, Arline blazed down the hall toward the back door. Cordelia tried to keep up, but her lungs burned. All that cardio the ladies did entertaining the patrons of the Chickadee paid off in spades.
“Oh, Lord.” Belinda Sue clutched at her side. “My hip just popped.”
Cordelia shoved her forward. “Put some ice on it later, we’ve got to move.”
They burst through the back door just as tires squealed against the pavement a block away. As the sirens grew closer, the blaring screech of them rang in Cordelia’s ears like a gong. If they got caught, this whole night would be for nothing. Everyone would know the pastor had been with Daisy, and to top it off, they might face charges for tampering with a body.
That thought alone gave Cordelia a final shot of adrenaline to get her legs working in time with her brain. She jumped into her car and had the engine revving as the chicks hopped in. Choosing to leave the lights off, she ran her car over the concrete parking stops at the back of the lot and peeled through the grass.
Belinda Sue pumped her fist and let out a Texas holler loud enough to get the neighborhood dogs barking as Cordelia aimed for an opening in the fenced yards that took them down a deserted alley. Her heart hammered in her throat as she weaved her car along various back streets, and even though she’d long left the sirens behind her, she didn’t turn on her headlights again until they hit the dirt road that would take them back to the Chickadee.
Chapter Seven
YOU COULDN’T MOVE A BODY WITH SOMEONE AND NOT DEVELOP AN INSTANTlifelong bond, which helped, considering Cordelia couldn’t leave Sarsaparilla Falls anytime soon. In light of recent events, the chicks weren’t fit to discuss taking over the motel just yet. Not to mention, it would be suspicious as all get-out if she blew out of town right when the pastor turned up dead, considering his well-known ties to Daisy. Cordelia didn’t think there was anything to connect them to the body, but she couldn’t be sure, so she decided to hold off on discussing official Chickadee business until after the funeral.
And though she didn’t intend to run the Chickadee, her personal plight took a significant back seat. Her plan was to lie low for the next week, then see what was what in town. If everything appeared fine, and the chicks were back on even ground, she’d turn the running of the operations over to Belinda Sue so she could get back to Dallas.
Easy peasy.
Over the past few days, Cordelia had discovered Belinda Sue had been a rancher’s daughter, tough as nails on a fifty-year-old fence. She’d grown up hog-tying calves in the local rodeo, which was how she’d developed a particular skill she put to use on her regulars. After her daddy’s ranch had been scammed out from under him by the same development company that wanted to buy upthe Chickadee, he died of a broken heart. Miss Penelope offered Belinda Sue a job straightaway and told her she could do whatever she wanted, so long as she was up-front about the rates and rules.
