Sunday, April 17, 2022

Is the Reverend Dead? Ch 17 (a mystery inspired by remote island life) by Leanne Dyck

chapter sixteen: Against her better judgment, Mrs. Hazeltson helps Conner escape.

photo by ldyck

Is the Reverend Dead?

Chapter Seventeen

Easter Sunday dawns sunny and bright. Fingers of golden yellow sunlight gently touch even the darkest corners. Good will always win over evil. There will always be a happy ending. Songbirds fill the world with music. Thanks to the rain, everything glows and smells fresh. I breathe in deep before climbing into the car. I flick on the radio.

“A malfunctioning pacemaker caused the death of the yet unnamed man.” Officer Boyd is on the news.

“And there’s been a further development on this case.” The female voice bubbles over with joy. “We’ve received what we believe to be the murder weapon. It arrived with a note that began with ‘I’m sorry’ and concluded by explaining how the device worked. We’ve tested it, in a controlled experiment, taking all necessary precautions, and it does turn off pacemakers.”

I turn the radio off. Bowing my head and folding my hands in prayer, I speak to Him who will never fail me. “You know Conner is a good boy, Lord. Please, God, protect him.”

I pull my car into one of the last remaining parking spots and follow a long line of people into the church. The purple-haired woman holds a wicker basket. Seeing me, she cheers, “Good morning, Mrs…. Mrs….”

“Mrs. Hazelton,” I supply.

“Ah, that’s right, Mrs. Hazelton.” She pretends that it was simply a temporary problem with her memory. Instead of the truth, that we don’t know each other, at all. “Good morning, Mrs. Hazelton,” she sings, too loudly.

It looks like she’s swooping in for a hug. I step back just in time.

She reaches into the basket and pulls out a white elastic bracelet that is adorned with tiny bells.

“Thank you but...hmm, ah...no thank—.”

She slips the bracelet onto my wrist. “Make a joyful noise onto the Lord,” She tells me. She grabs my hand and our bells chime as one.

A few minutes later, Ms. Matthews slams the vestry’s door. She says some things. I start listening when she says, “Ring your bells each time we say or sing Hallelujah.” She tests us.

Hallelujah.” We all ring our bells. This continues several times throughout the service. The whole thing is rather silly, but it’s Easter so I play along.

Her sermons are showing some improvement, I guess. Well, to be truthful they are the same coddling nonsense but I'm getting used to them. She concludes by saying, “We’ll all miss Reverend Paulson.” At least she’s no longer pretending that the Reverend will eventually return to us. “But, I’m sure, he would be very proud of how well we’ve all come together. Even us, ah, Mrs. Hazelton?” She smiles at me.

Everyone is staring at me. Waiting. I know what they expect. So I force a smile.

I join the long line of those waiting to shake Ms. Matthews hand. She hasn’t won me over. I simply need to know why she tried to hide the murder. “Ms. Matthews, concerning Rev—?”

“Everything I do I do for the church,” she tells me and moves me along by shaking the hand of the person behind me. And I know that will be the only answer that I ever get.

My Sweet Lord by George Harrison


Thank you for reading Is the Reverend Dead?



Next Sunday, April 24

Book Review: The Maid (cozy mystery) by Nita Prose


One more story...


When I moved to Mayne Island, I looked around for a church. All I

found was Mary Magdalene Anglican Church. I pushed myself through the door and to a back pew occupied by an older couple. 
"Good morning," they said.
I exchanged the greeting, but confessed, "But I'm not an Anglican; I'm a member of the United Church."
"So are we," Jack and Jeanne Lewis told me. "Welcome!"
And that's how I found a home in Mary Magdalene Church. 
(And I'm still a member of the United Church, if you were wondering)