Chapter Nineteen
“JUST HOLD ON A SECOND.” IN THE PARKING LOT, ARCHER WRAPPED HIS arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his broad chest. “Where did you plan on going?”
In hindsight, Cordelia could see it had been a mistake to run.
She had no car, she didn’t know the area, and she couldn’t see any lights other than those surrounding the restaurant.
Her flight-or-fight response had kicked in though, and she’d always considered herself a pacifist. That didn’t leave her a lot of choices as far as nature was concerned.
Now, her pride offered her no option other than to see this through. She elbowed Archer in the stomach. He released a short grunt, but that didn’t loosen his hold. Were the man’s arms made of iron? How was it possible he could hold her so tight without hurting her?
Trying another tactic, she went limp. “You win.”
He laughed against her ear and the vibration of it sent a shiver all the way down to her toes. Pressed this close together, there was no hiding her reaction to him. He released her and turned her around before he embarrassed them both.
“Why in the hell are you running?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and Cordelia lost a few shreds of dignity staring at the impression that made with his sleeves rolled up.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Archer blew out a frustrated breath. “What did you submit to the lab? And how did you get my passcodes to delete the results? Just so you know, if you plan on pulling a stunt like that in the future, the FBI does surprise audits of our systems every month to ensure we’re not compromised.”
Cordelia would walk over hot coals before she’d betray Arline. “I’m not sure what you mean. I didn’t submit anything to the lab.”
His amused expression turned hard. The look in his bourbon eyes chilled her down to the bones, despite the air hovering at a balmy eighty degrees. “Don’t toy with me, Delia. Tampering with the FBI is a federal offense.”
“Are you going to arrest me?”
“I should,” he muttered. Pacing back and forth in front of her, he ran his hands through his dark hair, causing the curled ends to stand up at unruly angles. Cordelia wished the effect had been a little less appealing. “Just tell me what you submitted.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
He stopped in front of her. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t submit anything.”
“I swear to God.” He raised his eyes heavenward, as if praying for patience that had no intention of being delivered. “You could drive a man to drink.”
“If you need help with that, I know people in the AA.”
He held up a finger, walked away, paced a few feet, then returned. “I think I’m going to drive you home now.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Without another word, they headed back to his truck.
Ever the Texas gentleman, Archer still opened the door for her and offered her his hand so she could boost herself into the seat.
Cordelia tried to ignore the way her skin tingled when they touched.
It was just chemistry. No big deal. That didn’t mean they were compatible in any other way.
They drove back in silence, Archer tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to a beat only he could hear.
Cordelia stared out the window, watching the open plains scroll by.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to confide in Archer.
He’d probably listen in that open, honest way of his, and she didn’t think he’d actually turn her in to the sheriff.
But it was too late to start over. She’d chosen to deceive him and she wouldn’t sell out Arline to make it right.
He pulled up outside the Chickadee and opened the passenger door for her, helping her down. Frustration and annoyance vibrated off him like a fiddle string pulled taut, but he didn’t push her further, understanding his efforts would’ve been futile.
She turned to walk across the parking lot when he stopped her. “Delia.”
She turned around. “Yes?”
With his tense stance and his hat pulled low enough to shield his eyes, he looked every part the detached FBI agent. “I’m going to find out what you submitted to the lab, and if I find out Daisy played a hand in my father’s death, there will be hell to pay for the Chickadee.”
With that, he got into his truck and drove away.
Cordelia blew out a long breath. Archer would make good on his threat, of that she had no doubt.
But she also had a solid lead to chase for the first time and a limited amount of time left on her hands before everything came crashing down.
Not wasting another second on regrets as far as Archer was concerned, she went back to her apartment and fired up the internet.
It was time to get to the bottom of just how closely the pastor was linked to Martina Ruiz.
Cordelia passed the pool to find the chicks already gathered for an impromptu happy hour.
Despite it being close to ten at night, Belinda Sue passed around mimosas made up of Minute Maid orange juice and Five O’Clock vodka.
Thinking of Archer’s words just an hour earlier, about how she could drive a man to drink, Cordelia once again abstained.
“How did your date go?” Daisy asked.
“Not well.” Cordelia filled them in on the details. “If he finds out about the palytoxin, I’m scared he’s going to point the sheriff in this direction again.”
“He’s not going to find out.” Belinda Sue smacked her palm hard enough to make Cordelia jump. “We’ll wrap this up before he gets the chance.”
“What do we know about Martina other than she works at a library, her family owns the best Mexican restaurant in three counties, and she don’t like book banners?
” Daisy had a pink notebook and fuzzy pen balanced on her crossed knee, ready to take notes.
The full moon and light from the pool gave her plenty of illumination.
“There’s got to be something we missed.”
“What about that rumor that went around a few years back about her hooking up with Stewart Combs in the World Religion section and nearly losing her job when a board member happened to stop in that day and catch Stewart with his hand up her shirt?” Belinda Sue asked.
“Stewart ended up breaking things off because the pastor didn’t approve of one of his deacons carrying on with Martina on account of her being agnostic. ”
“Being agnostic was worse than hooking up in a public library?” Cordelia asked.
Belinda Sue shrugged. “I don’t much get the rules of religion myself, but it’s my understanding that it’s right up there with murder and blasphemy.”
“Of all the ridiculous . . .” Cordelia cut herself off. She didn’t much understand religion herself, and so made a point not to make too many judgments about it. “I suppose that’s a lead we could follow. Should we talk to Stewart first?”
Daisy waggled her eyebrows. “Arline could talk to Stewart.”
“We don’t do a whole lot of talking,” Arline said. “Don’t see why we’d start now.”
Belinda Sue held out her hands. “Here’s what we’re going to do.
We’re going to go to church.” When she was met with a collective groan, she gave the three of them a sharp stink eye.
“I’m being serious here. We should’ve been going the whole time.
Church is a hotbed of gossip and manners.
That’s where we’ll really be able to suss out who’s doing what. ”
“Or who,” Daisy added.
Cordelia couldn’t deny that Belinda Sue had a point.
One of the reasons she’d always felt on the outside of things growing up in Sarsaparilla Falls was because her momma hadn’t been allowed to attend church.
It ended up cutting her off from the whole community.
Of course Sherilynn’s outrageous antics didn’t help matters, but being barred from the church cut Cordelia off as well.
There had to be more to a community than religion though.
Looking at Daisy, Belinda Sue, and Arline, Cordelia could say that for certain.
Community didn’t have to be made up of shared beliefs or common grounds.
Sometimes it existed in the respect of differences and the desire to have old ways of thinking challenged. No good ever came from standing still.
“I’m with Belinda Sue on this,” Cordelia said. “We’re not going to learn anything new by sitting around here and making assumptions.”
“I’ll wait outside and see how it goes.” Arline crossed her arms. “If y’all make it past the threshold without turning to ash, I’ll consider following you in.”
On Sunday morning Cordelia stood outside her car, waiting for the chicks to finish getting ready.
Belinda Sue was the only one who had done any churching growing up, so walking through the finer details of appropriate attire had been an exercise in patience.
While Daisy made a solid point when she said God wouldn’t care too much about what they looked like as long as they showed up, it still wasn’t a good-enough reason to walk into the Holy Cross Episcopal Church wearing hot shorts and a halter top.
The three of them ended up raiding Arline’s closet, since the floral caftans she preferred were about as close as they were going to get to church dresses.
Cordelia wore one of her trim A-line skirts and cream tops with a matching jacket.
She looked ready for a business interview, which wasn’t much different from any other day.
As they pulled into the parking lot, Cordelia tried to ignore the double takes. The people of Sarsaparilla Falls might’ve respected the Chickadee, but that didn’t mean they wanted to be reminded of their sins when they were trying to pretend to be holy.
“Why’s everyone staring at us?” Daisy asked. “Did we wear the wrong thing?”
“Folks in this town prefer to keep their vices and their morals separate, if you know what I mean. Plus, they’re probably mad they don’t look as good as us.” Belinda Sue looped her arm through Daisy’s, leading the way into the church. “Come on. Let’s give ’em hell.”