Chapter Fifteen
Watching the squad car pull out of the parking lot, he exhales.
With luck, that annoying woman—Detective Sergeant Kennedy—has concluded that Sarah Greene isn’t in trouble and will return home when she’s good and ready. That maybe she has indeed lost her phone and/or gone off with friends who shall remain nameless for the time being.
He returns to the cabinet, opens the drawer, and finds the list that had been right on top when he opened the Bible study folder. With the cop distracted by her phone, it had been so easy for him to slip out the sheet of paper and tuck it behind the last hanging file.
He considers putting it back now but decides against it.
He doesn’t like the detective’s demeanor. She asked too many questions. Looked at him in a way that made him talk too much, as he does when he gets nervous.
What if she was suspicious? What if she comes back? What if she figures out—
“Sir?” a voice calls from the hall, and he quickly shoves the paper into his pocket. “I mean, Father? Or . . . sorry, I’m not sure what—”
“It’s fine.” He steps out of the office to find one the HVAC repairmen. He’s young, with wavy dark hair, a scruffy beard, and a gold stud in one ear. His rolled-up uniform sleeves reveal tattooed, muscular forearms. His name patch reads Johnny.
Hot Cool Guys indeed.
“We figured out your problem. Should’ve checked the thermostat.”
“There’s a problem with the thermostat?”
“Two problems. First, you got a couple of loose wires. Second, you got no backup batteries in there. Maybe they died and someone pulled them out and was planning to replace them and forgot. You gotta have backup batteries. That way, if something happens to the wires, the damned thing still works. Sorry.” He winces, covering his mouth.
“Didn’t mean to curse in front of a man of the cloth. ”
“No worries. I’m glad you figured out the problem.”
“Yeah.” Johnny whips out a red bandanna and wipes sweat from his handsome face. “Whoever found the dead batteries must have yanked on the wires, because they’re way out of whack. People should be more careful, you know?”
“They absolutely should.”
“Chad’s fixing it, and you’ll be back up and running, but it might take a while for things to cool down in here. If I were you, I’d find somewhere else to go until it does.”
“Will do. Thank you.”
He waits until Johnny has retreated to rejoin his partner, then pats his pocket.
He definitely has somewhere else to go.
He steps back into the office, closes the door, picks up the desk phone, and hits redial.
The line rings several times before a male voice answers. “Hello?”
“Yeah, Al? It’s Joseph Nielson. I’m here at the church.” He can hear kids in the background. A whistle blows. Soccer practice.
“Right. Any news on the AC?”
“It’s all fixed.”
“Already? That’s great. So you don’t need me to come back there?”
“No, I’ll lock up. You have a good night.”
He hangs up and places another call.
This time, it’s answered on the first ring. “Joseph Nielson.”
“Hi, Pastor. It’s Al again—the custodian at Congregational Memorial in Mulberry Bay?”
“Al, of course. Did the repair service get over there?”
“They sure did, and it’s all taken care of.”
“They fixed the air-conditioning already?”
“Yep. There was a problem with the wiring. Nothing complicated. No need for you to come. I’ve got it all under control.”
“Thanks a million, Al. You’re a lifesaver.”
He hangs up with an ironic smile.
A lifesaver?
Some might say the opposite about him.