Murder at the Church: Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series Read online

  MURDER AT THE CHURCH

  By

  Dianne Harman

  (A Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery - Book 2)

  Copyright © 2018 Dianne Harman

  www.dianneharman.com

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Paperback ISBN:

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to all of you who bought the first book in this new series, Murder in Cottonwood Springs, and made it a bestseller. Many of you wrote asking when the next one would be published. Well, here it is!

  Committing murder in a church is about the most sacrilegious act a person can do. However, sometimes events just have to happen in a certain way, or so the Muse that comes to me at night when I’m sleeping tells me!

  There are several people I want to thank for their help in getting this book published. Krystal, Meghan, Connie, Vivek, and of course, my in-house editor, Tom. I know the readers appreciate all the work you do, so they can continue to read about Brigid’s adventures in the small mountainous town of Cottonwood Springs, Colorado.

  I hope you enjoy this book and yes, a third one is being written and will be available in the near future! Thanks again for your support.

  Free Paperbacks

  I'm giving away FREE Paperbacks. Find out more at www.dianneharman.com/freepaperback.html

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  EPILOGUE

  RECIPES

  ABOUT DIANNE

  COMING SOON!

  PROLOGUE

  Maggie Lewis was totally frustrated. She chewed on what was left of her bitten-down fingernails, willing the strength to resist temptation. She knew she had to stay sober, if not for herself, then for Holly. She’d already put her teenage daughter through too much trauma in her young life, such as men coming in and out of the house at all hours of day and night and seeing her mother either drunk or high on drugs most of the time.

  She knew she’d been a terrible mother for the first twelve years of Holly’s life, but now that Mike Loomis, her main drug supplier, was in prison, it was the perfect time for her to get clean. What she hadn’t counted on was just how difficult it was going to be.

  Maggie had reached out for help, because she knew she couldn’t do it on her own. Missy, Father Jerome’s wife, had been a huge help by giving her the names of different resources she could call upon. It had been weeks since she’d last had a drink or used drugs, although neither had been far from her thoughts the whole time. The depression that came with getting clean was still hard for her, but she was coping, and seeing the hope in Holly’s eyes was enough to keep her away from booze and drugs. For the first time since she’d given birth to Holly, Maggie had made her daughter her top priority. She was ashamed to admit that putting herself first all those years had been a lot easier.

  She stood up from the couch and walked into the tiny kitchen of the two-bedroom trailer where the two of them lived. It was just after midnight, but she was used to staying up late, usually until three in the morning. She worked nights at the local candy factory, so for her, it really wasn’t all that late.

  Maggie opened a kitchen cabinet, took out a cup of noodles, and started to boil some water. It was nice being able to use the stove again. The money she saved from not spending whatever she had on her addictions had allowed her to work out a payment plan with the utility company.

  Even though she knew it wasn’t that big of a deal to most people, to be able to do it had meant a lot to her. Maggie had grown up in Cottonwood Springs, and when she’d gone to the utility company to see what she could work out, she found out she and the manager had been in the same class in high school. She told him how hard she was trying and asked if he could help her. It had hurt what was left of her pride to admit how much she was struggling financially, and she had said a silent prayer of thanks when he’d said yes.

  It was good to know that people were rooting for her and willing to help. She couldn’t remember the last time the different utilities in the trailer had all been on at the same time. What lingered in her memory were the times she’d showered in cold water, because she couldn’t pay the gas bill.

  As she was waiting for the water to start boiling, her cell phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. She grabbed her old flip phone and opened it. It was just as she thought, another text from Billy. She sighed.

  Hey baby, why won’t you answer me?

  Maggie tossed the phone down on the kitchen counter, not even bothering to reply. She’d told Billy more than once that she wasn’t interested in being with him anymore, but he didn’t seem to get the point. He refused to listen to her, still lost in the depths of his own addiction and demons. Maggie knew if she was going to stay sober, there was no place in her life for Billy. She’d made her decision, and there was no turning back from it. Not this time.

  She poured the boiling water into the cup and waited for the noodles to soften. She’d begged Billy to get clean with her, but he’d just laughed. Instead, he’d started driving into Denver to find his fix, and now he was selling to the addicts who had relied on Mike for their supply. Her phone buzzed again.

  Come on, I know you’re awake.

  She stirred the noodles as she leaned back against the counter. Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten. Fighting the depression and anxiety during the past few weeks had really taken its toll on her. As she ate, she listened to the old familiar excuses boiling up in her mind. It’s just one drink, they said. One hit won’t hurt anything.

  She’d learned from the meetings at the church that what she heard was her addiction talking. Her insecurities and doubts were voicing their complaints, trying to bring her down. Trying to separate those voices from her own was tough. The addiction didn’t want to let go of her, no matter how much she wanted to let go of it. Hmmm, a bit like Billy, she thought.

  Maggie began to pace the length of the small trailer, which didn’t take more than a handful of steps. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror mounted on the back of the bedroom door. Her mousy brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun, but thankfully she was starting to get some color back in her face. She’d gained some weight, so the only thing that fit her these days were loose tee shirts and sweats.

  Maggie knew she was going to have to spend money on a couple of pairs of jeans pretty soon. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but she needed to buy a few clothes for Holly first. She was planning on taking her next paycheck and spending it all on her daughter. Holly deserved it after what she’d been through.

  Maggie heard her phone buzz on the kitchen counter again. She didn’t even bother to look at it, knowing who it would be. Billy was the only one who messaged her this late at night.

  She s
tepped into her small bedroom, looking for her jacket. The spring air was pleasant but cool. Maggie thought a walk might distract her and help her get rid of some of the anxiety tightening her chest, at least for a little while, and then she’d be able to get some sleep. She wanted to get up early, so she could spend some time with Holly.

  She grabbed a notepad from the kitchen counter and wrote a quick note to Holly in case she woke up in the middle of the night and noticed that Maggie was gone. Maggie knew her daughter would automatically assume she’d left to go find a fix. It hurt to even think that, but she knew it was the truth. How many times in Holly’s life had a nightmare woken her up and then she’d found out mommy wasn’t there? More times than she could count.

  “Went out for a walk to clear my mind,” she wrote. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes. Love you to the moon and back, Mom.”

  As she opened the door and quietly shut it behind her, Maggie thought about everything she’d put her daughter through. Holly had acted like an adult from the time she was a small child, because she’d had no choice. Maggie had only stayed sober long enough to work and get a paycheck. As soon as she was finished with work, she was gone, getting high and drunk.

  Holly paid the bills, bought groceries, and cooked the meals. There were even a few nights when Holly had taken care of her mother. She’d never complained or spoken out against Maggie, just quietly cleaning her up after her sick binges, withdrawing into herself a little more each time it happened. Tears trailed down Maggie’s cheeks as she walked through the dark trailer park, thinking of the past.

  She knew she needed to go to the one place that always calmed her and made her feel at peace with the world. She was so intent on her thoughts she didn’t notice that someone was following her. They kept their distance, far enough behind her that their footsteps couldn’t be heard on the pavement. They weren’t sure where she was going, only that they were going to follow her, and they didn’t want her to know they were only a short distance behind her.

  Maggie looked up at the clouds sliding across the moon. With the crisp air filling her lungs, she was starting to feel a bit better. Things had been so tough lately. She’d anticipated the physical symptoms of withdrawal. Those weren’t all that tough to manage, after all, she’d been through worse.

  No, it was the mental aspect she hadn’t been prepared for. Add to that the fact that Billy had been harassing her ever since she’d broken off their relationship, and she was struggling to cope. Even though she hadn’t answered him for days, actually weeks, he still continued to text her. Maybe a bit of distance would help him clear his mind and see what he was doing to himself.

  As the large white church came into view, Maggie felt the tension in her shoulders relax. It was funny how the church had that effect on her now. Before, when she’d driven by the church she’d made jokes that she couldn’t ever set foot in the old building, because she’d burst into flames. Now it was her refuge from all the terrible things she’d done, a place where she found comfort, peace and unconditional forgiveness, even though she couldn’t yet forgive herself.

  The old white church looked like something out of a painting. A tall steeple tower rose from the sloped roof and was backdropped against the nearby trees. The rectory, where the priest’s family lived, was behind it. Jordan Blair was the priest of the Episcopal church and his wife was Missy. Maggie had come to think of both of them as saints in disguise, because they’d helped so many people in the small town, including her.

  As she climbed the stone steps leading up to the large red wooden doors of the church, a sense of peace enveloped Maggie. Here she felt safe from the outside world. Within the church’s walls she’d found her own religion. Although she didn’t completely agree with everything that was said in the church, she felt like it was helping her make her way to a better of life. She knew she had a lot of atoning to do for all the sins she’d committed, but she was confident that God knew how hard she was working to make a better life for Holly and her.

  She quietly walked up the center aisle of the church, not wanting to disturb anyone who might also be present at this late hour. She looked around the pews wondering if anyone else was there seeking an audience with God, but for the moment, she had the church all to herself. The beautiful stained-glass windows were dark at this time of night, but that didn’t keep her from admiring them.

  She was fascinated by the way they were made with simple pieces of colored glass, cut, and then pieced together to create beautiful images. Maggie liked to think that each piece was kind of like a person. They may not be perfect on their own, but once a group of them came together, something magical could happen. The deep red curtains along the side walls of the church were pulled back and tied with golden ropes with tassels making everything seem regal and elegant.

  Maggie continued to the front of the church and knelt down on the prayer bench below the large cross on the front wall of the church. She folded her hands and bowed her head and began praying. “Hey, God, it’s me again,” she started. “I’m really struggling tonight. I need some strength. I’ve failed terribly as a mother, and I know Holly deserves a better life. She’s seen more than any child should, and I’m scared.”

  She paused, feeling a lump begin to form in her throat. “I don’t want her to grow up and be like me. Please save her from that, no matter what it takes. I want her to have a better life. She deserves it. She’s so smart, and she has so much potential.”

  The person who had been following Maggie quietly slipped in the front door of the church. They paused to make sure Maggie hadn’t heard them enter. When she didn’t turn to look in their direction, they crept up the side aisle of the church, the shadows and the curtains hiding their presence, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

  As Maggie continued to pray, she raised her voice slightly. “I’m still working through trying to forgive myself for everything I’ve done––the stealing, the lying, and the cheating. I regret so many things. Please help me. Father Jordan and Missy have been amazing, but I haven’t told them everything. I’m afraid to. I’m sure they know some of it, because Cottonwood Springs isn’t that big of a town. I’m not proud of what I’ve done in the past, and no one knows better than me that some of it is really bad.”

  The person paused next to the first row of pews. Maggie was still far enough away she wouldn’t be able to see them unless she turned around. They listened to what she was saying.

  “I know I’ve hurt so many people, like Mark, MaryAnn, Frank, George, Billy, even Sam, not to mention all the others. There’s just so much wrong that I’ve done, but please, more than anything, I beg you to help me stay away from Billy. I know he’ll pull me back down if I see him or talk to him. Please help me. I’m desperate.”

  Listening to Maggie talk about all those people enraged the person who had been following her. When they heard their name recited by Maggie, everything came bubbling to the surface. Pure rage filled their chest as they removed one of the golden ropes that was holding back a portion of the curtain. Creeping up behind Maggie, in a flash they had the rope wrapped tightly around her neck.

  It took Maggie a moment to realize what was happening. As the rope tightened, she raised her arm and tried to push it away, gasping for breath. When she realized she couldn’t get it loose, her hands clawed at the person who was behind her. Her fingernails dug into their arm, scratching the bare skin. No matter what she did, the rope was held tightly against her neck, burning her skin.

  As she struggled to get her breath, things began to get fuzzy and dark around the edges. She looked up at the figure of Jesus looking down on her from the cross. Her last conscious thought was how sympathetic his eyes were. Her killer continued to pull the rope tightly around her neck until her body no longer moved.

  They removed the rope from her throat and wrapped it around their hand, knowing how dangerous it would be to leave it, since they weren’t wearing gloves. It wasn’t as if the strangulation was planned, it just happened. T
hey looked around, but no one had come into the church, and they quietly crept out of the church. It was late, and if they hurried home, no one would know that they were responsible for the murder of Maggie Lewis.

  CHAPTER 1

  Brigid had just walked through the front door and was headed for the kitchen for a glass of water when her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was her friend Missy.

  “Hi, Missy,” she said.

  “Good morning, Brigid. Are you busy or can you talk for a minute?” she asked.

  “I was just getting a glass of water, so obviously I’m not all that busy. What can I do for you?” Brigid continued walking towards the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet. Jett, her large black Newfoundland dog, was eagerly drinking from his water dish. They’d just returned from their morning jog and both of them were thirsty.

  “I have a favor to ask. We host the local Alcoholics Anonymous meetings at the church, and I usually have plenty of help, but none of them can do it this evening. I was wondering if you’d be willing to give me a hand?”

  “When is it?” Brigid asked. She was usually free, but she didn’t want to commit to something and then have to cancel. She leaned her hip against the counter, taking a drink from her glass.

  “The meeting’s tonight at 7:00.”

  “Sure, that’s not a problem. I’d be glad to assist, although I’ve never been to one of their meetings, so I don’t know what to expect,” Brigid said, glad she could help Missy.

  “Oh, thanks, Brigid. It really means a lot to me, and the fact you’ve never attended a meeting is fine. I’d never attended one either before we started doing them here at the church, but I suppose that’s a good thing,” Missy said. “I have one more favor to ask. Could you bring some type of a snack? I like to have something available for the people attending the meetings. Normally I take care of it, but I’m swamped today.”