A Dirty Shame by Liliana Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

mouth pinched, but she nodded and stepped back inside the room. “Very well. Though I won’t participate in vicious gossip. I know how these investigations go. You think you can horn in on people’s private lives and then all you cops sit around your box of donuts and judge the law-abiding citizens of this town. The Bible says, Judge not, lest you not be judged. Remember that, Sheriff, so you don’t end up on the path to hell with this one.”
    “Ms. Dewberry,” Jack said with more patience than any one man should possess, “This will go much faster if you’d just let me ask a few routine questions.”
    Her lips pinched together even tighter, if that was possible, and she nodded her head.
    “Is it possible for you to get me a photograph of Reverend Oglesby? It would be helpful to the investigation.” What Jack wasn’t saying was that it would be nice to see what the man was supposed to look like without his face bashed in.
    “All of the pastoral staff has a photograph taken to hang on the wall in the church lobby. You’re free to look at it at any time, just like the rest of the congregation.” She folded a neat pleat in her dress and crossed her feet at the ankles.
    “Was Reverend Oglesby fitting in okay here at the church? Any trouble with one of the congregation members or maybe other staff?”
    “Of course not. Reverend Oglesby was sent over to help Reverend Thomas late last December. The Reverend’s getting older, and it’s been harder on him to keep up with his hospital visits and the extra duties that come along with a growing congregation, so Reverend Oglesby was here to take some of the load. Not that Reverend Thomas was shirking his duty, mind you. I don’t want it being spread around that he’s lost interest in doing the Lord’s work.”
    “No, ma’am,” Jack said.
    “And he fit in as well as anybody. He did his job and did it quietly, and I resent you implicating that there might have been bad blood between Reverend Oglesby and those of us who work here at the church. We all have one mission, and our personal feelings will never get in the way of that.”
    “Did anyone from the congregation pay closer attention to him than they should have? Did he seem overly interested or worried about anyone in particular?”
    I could follow Jack’s line of thought easy enough. He wanted to know if Reverend Oglesby had been killed by jealous lovers or angry fathers.
    “His personal life is none of my business. It isn’t Christian to pry. He was a man who did his job.”
    “You never saw him around town? Never saw him talking to other members of the church outside of Sunday morning? Come on now, Lorna. This is Bloody Mary. You can’t sneeze without bumping into someone on the street that you have to stop and talk to for five minutes.”
    “I’ve answered what I’m going to answer. You won’t get information so you can spread tales from me.”
    “Ms. Dewberry,” Jack growled, the first signs of irritation starting to show. But he was interrupted by the rattle of the old iron doorknob as Reverend Thomas pushed his way into the room.
    “Now, Lorna,” he said, his deep baritone just a little louder than an indoor voice required. “That’s not what the Sheriff means, is it Jack? It’s our duty to remember a man’s soul has departed, and if we can help we will.”
    Reverend Thomas was a stooped man of close to eighty years of age with kind brown eyes and a sharp wit that didn’t put up with any nonsense. It seemed he’d grown shorter over the years, and his black, natty suit seemed to swallow him whole as he’d shrunken. His papery thin skin hung on his bones, and his earlobes and nose had almost doubled in size since I was a child. His hair was thin and solid silver, but he kept it combed ruthlessly back with Brylcreem. I’d always been distracted by the wild tangle of wiry hair that sprouted from his ears.
    “Thanks for seeing us, Reverend,” Jack said.
    He waved his hand in dismissal