Mark Schweizer - Liturgical 12 - The Cantor Wore Crinolines by Mark Schweizer Page B

any bother. Why don’t I just look around as long as I’m here?”
    “Helen,” growled Nancy, “get on the porch and stay there or I’ll handcuff you to the railing.”
    “Well!” said Helen, in a highly offended tone. “Well, I never! ”
    “We won’t be long,” I said. “You can go on back home if you’d like. We’ll be happy to lock up after we’re finished.”
    “I certainly will not! I’m going to wait right here until you tell me what’s going on.”
    “Suit yourself,” said Nancy, glaring at her. “But you step inside this door again before we give you the okay and I’ll take you to jail.” Nancy liked to play “bad cop.”
    “You don’t have a jail,” sniffed Helen, “but I’ll stay on the porch.”
    Nancy and I went straight for the bedrooms. In the second one we checked, we found the body, this one with a purse clutched in her hands. She was stretched out in the closet like the others and wearing a stylish pant suit. Our flashlights revealed a middle-aged woman, medium length salt and pepper hair, eyes closed.
    “Do you know her?” I asked.
    “Nope,” said Nancy.
    I had my phone out and was getting ready to call Dave. Before I’d punched in the number, the lights in the bedroom came on.
    “Huh,” I said. “Dave’s on the ball. I didn’t even tell him to get this house turned on as well as the other two.”
    “Yeah,” said Nancy, “he’s a smart guy.” This was high praise from Nancy. In the old days, Dave had quite the crush on Lieutenant Nancy Parsky. She tolerated it, then rather enjoyed it, then they’d become a couple briefly, then the infatuation had worn off and Dave had found other romantic interests. He was currently seeing his old fiancée, Collette Bowers, who lived in Wilkesboro, about an hour away. Nancy had nothing but contempt for Collette, but, as far as I could tell, she and Dave had found middle ground and were good friends.”
    There was a closet light, but it hadn’t been left on. I flipped the switch and an old fluorescent bulb sputtered to life. I squatted down beside Nancy.
    Nancy had her latex gloves on and the purse out of the woman’s hands. She rifled through it, then pulled out an overstuffed wallet and opened it.
    “Crystal Latimore,” Nancy said, reading the driver’s license. “5427 Highway 105 in Linville. The picture matches.” She thumbed through the wallet. “Credit cards, a St. Germaine Library card, insurance card, some receipts. Usual stuff. All with her name on it.”
    “What’s going on?” said a voice behind us. Helen’s voice. She was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “All the lights came on! Did you find something?”
    Nancy stood up angrily and when she did, Helen spotted the woman’s legs stretched out straight across the closet floor.
    “Oh my GOD! ” she screeched. “Is that a dead person?”
    “Helen Pigeon,” Nancy said, fury in her voice, “you’re under arrest for being a pain in the … ”
    “Hang on,” I said. “She was bound to find out in a few minutes anyway.”
    “I don’t care,” said Nancy. “I’m going to cuff her.”
    “Who is it?” asked Helen, ignoring Nancy and sidling into the room for a better look. “Anyone we know? A woman? Has she been murdered?” She tried peeking around my shoulder to get a better look.
    I got to my feet. “We don’t know, Helen,” I said. “All we know right now is that she’s dead.”
    “That’s Crystal!” shrieked Helen, seeing the woman’s face. “Crystal Latimore! Wait a minute … ” Helen’s eyes narrowed in consternation, then realization dawned and they grew wide. “Wait … just … one … minute … There were dead bodies in the other two houses, weren’t there?”
    “Can I arrest her now ?” asked Nancy, in disgust.
    Helen suddenly looked very uncomfortable, not green exactly, but maybe half way there. “I’m feeling sort of … umm … you know. May I go into the hall for a minute?”
    “Sure,” I said. “You