This us the second of the series. Part of the inspiration came from a friend who plays the organ. I often enjoyed spending time listening to his mastery of music. He's nothing like the character of the book except for being an excellent musician.
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Blurb:
When Martin answered, I explained the
situation. “She wants you,
not Judith. You need to take her to the
Emergency Room. Ask for Janice.
She’ll be waiting.”
“Be right there.”
After they left, I returned to the church.
A prayer filled my thoughts.
I needed to be calm when I faced Roger.
If he wasn’t at the church, I’d go
to his apartment. The coals of anger had
been fanned. I wouldn’t rest until
he was on his way to jail.
When I opened the side door, the gray cat
bolted through the
opening and dashed into the bushes. Once
my heart stopped pounding, I
frowned. How had the stray gotten into
the church?
I headed up to the choir room. Several
pieces of music lay on the
piano. Roger wasn’t in the music library
or the room where the choir robes
were kept. Since he’d never leave the
lights on and the door open, I knew
he was somewhere in the building. The
sanctuary? But I hadn’t heard the
organ.
Downstairs, I strode down the hall and
opened the door. The lights
were on in the choir loft. Deep shadows
filled the rest of the room. I turned
to leave and remembered Marcie’s jacket.
What had she said about the
attack? He’d taken her downstairs to one
of the pews. Her jacket had to be
here somewhere.
As I moved down the aisle, I looked for
the bright pink coat. Where
was Roger? I stopped short and held in a
gasp. I saw the jacket and
Roger’s body half-sprawled on one of the
pews.
Swallowing my scream, I knelt and touched
his arm. “Roger.” My
voice sounded tentative. Then I saw his head and the blood. I looked up at
the balcony. Had he fallen or had he been
pushed?
There was nothing I could do for him. I
turned and ran from the
sanctuary and through the garden to the
parish house.
Mary looked up. “He’s not here.”
I’m sure she meant Edward. “I need to
call the police.”
“An accident with your car?”
Since I’d already dialed the local
station, a number I’ve memorized, I
didn’t answer. No sense repeating my
news. “Pete Duggan, please. Tell
him it’s Katherine Miller.”
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Of course Kathering and Robespierre, the Maine Coon Cat are featured
Edward Potter, the pastor of her church who persuades her to lead the search committee for a new organist.“Good grief, Katherine, I hope he’s not planning to bite me again.” Edward Potter, pastor of St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, glared at the cat. His voice had risen to a high pitch. “Whatever do you feed him? He’s ever so much bigger than Bitsy.”
The temptation to say my pet fed on pastors was
strong. I refrained and fought to
control a grin that threatened to blossom.
Teasing Edward usually results in a lecture delivered in an indignant
voice.
Judith - one of the committee members. The largest and loudest of the groups clustered around Judith Simpson. She sat on one of the brocade-covered chairs near the front windows and looked like a queen on her throne. The majority of the group was male. No real surprise. At one time or another, every male in the congregation, married or not, had flirted with Judith. Each had held her attention until she decided to blow them off with cruel remarks.
Her brown eyes slant, giving her an almost Oriental
look. Straight dark hair cut to shoulder
length adds to the image. As she spoke,
her hands moved in exaggerated gestures.
A constant flow of kinetic energy crackled as she stroked the new
tenor’s arm. He smiled.
Martin Judith's husband. Martin ended the moment of seduction by handing her a cup of coffee. Bearded, balding and overweight, he appeared to be a weak man, but beneath the surface lay a nurturing kind of strength. Did he mother his daughter as well as he did his wife?
Beth a young widow and committee member. Take Mrs. Miller home and join us.”
Beth stiffened.
“Maybe.”
“I’ll have a drink waiting for you. Maybe you’ll find a man.” She rubbed against Martin. “Three years since your husband’s death. I don’t know how you’ve survived. Men are so...so...”
Beth’s face flamed.
She reached for her jacket. I put
on my coat. Judith, Martin and several
other people strolled from the room.
Beth shook her head.
“I don’t know why I let her get to me.”
Roger Brandon the organist hired. Our trip took us nearly a
hundred miles north of the
After our arrival in the small upstate town, we
parked across the street from a large red brick church. Martin, Judith and Ralph entered the church
ahead of us. Morning sunlight streamed
through a series of narrow stained glass panels. Beth followed me down the aisle to a seat in
one of the center pews. The rest of our
group settled in the last row.
Once the prelude began, I closed my eyes. Gooseflesh rose on my arms. Why was such a superb musician buried in this
out-of-the-way place? In that instant I
knew we had to have him and I revised the salary Edward had mentioned
upward.
When the last note of the postlude ended, I remained
in my seat so filled with music I was unable to move. Finally, I followed Beth to the vestibule
where the other committee members waited.
Pete Duggan local cop and Katherine has known him since he was a child. I laughed. “Don’t tell me there’s an available woman in town you don’t know. She’s a widow. She and her six year old son live in the old Perkin’s house. Sings in the choir and is a nurse at the hospital.”
“Haven’t had the honor.” He grinned.
“Church business -- missing robes -- vanished communion wine?”
“Nothing criminal.”
I studied him and wondered when he’d settle down.
“So what are you up to?” he asked.
“Acting as temporary choir director and heading the
search committee for a new organist.”
“Good for you.
Should keep you out of mischief.”
“I’m crushed.”
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http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com
https://www.pinterest.com/shadyl717/
Buy Mark
Join the authors at #MFRWHooks here http://mfrwbookhooks.blogspot.com for some great excerpts Mine is book two of the Murder and Tea series
BLURB:
The moment she hears his mastery of the organ, Katherine covets him as St. Stephen’s new Minister of Music. Handsome, charming and vastly talented, the women of the congregation adore him. Even Katherine is swayed by his manners and ability, But Roger not only brought beautiful music, he brings poisoned notes to the choir. Katherine seeks to find the secret of why he has changed churches yearly. She prays the discovery will be in time to prevent a tragedy.
Review
The Mrs. Miller Mysteries series is a sheer delight. Miss Marple and Jessica Fletcher would love Katherine Miller. I know I do. ~~ Writer Gail Roughton
After they left, I returned to the church. A prayer filled my thoughts. I needed to be calm
when I faced Roger. If he wasn’t at the church, I’d go to his apartment. The coals
of anger had been fanned. I wouldn’t rest until he was on his way to jail.
When I opened the side door, the gray cat bolted through the opening and dashed
into the bushes. Once my heart stopped pounding, I frowned. How had the stray gotten
into the church?
I headed up to the choir room. Several pieces of music lay on the piano. Roger wasn’t
in the music library or the room where the choir robes were kept. Since he would
never leave the lights on and the door open, I knew he was somewhere in the
building. The
sanctuary? But I hadn’t heard the organ.
Downstairs, I strode down the hall and opened the door. The lights were on
in the choir loft. Deep shadows filled the rest of the room. I turned to leave
and remembered Marcie’s jacket. What had she said about the attack? He’d
taken her downstairs to one of
the pews. Her jacket had to be here somewhere.
As I moved down the aisle, I looked for the bright pink coat. Where was Roger?
I stopped short and held in a gasp. I saw the jacket and Roger’s body half-sprawled
on one of the pews.
Swallowing my scream, I knelt and touched his arm. “Roger.” My voice sounded
tentative. Then I saw his head and the blood. I looked up at the balcony. Had
he fallen or had he been
pushed?
There was nothing I could do for him. I turned and ran from the sanctuary and
through the garden to the
parish house.
Mary looked up. “He’s not
here.”
I’m sure she meant Edward. “I
need to call the police.”
“An accident with your car?”
Since I’d already dialed the local station, a number I’ve memorized, I didn’t
answer. No sense repeating my
news. “Pete Duggan, please. Tell him it’s Katherine Miller.”
A few minutes later, I heard
his voice. “Officer Duggan.”
“Pete, I need you.”
“Another body, Mrs. M?”
“How did you guess?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not one iota. At St.
Stephen’s. In the sanctuary.”
