Marcie's Murder by Michael J. McCann Read Free Book Online Page A

so he doesn’t do the manual labor around the place . H e’s the spiritual leader.”
    “Gay?”
    “If I had to guess I’d say not. They’re not celibates, as I understand it , but he didn’t come off like somebody with a raging libido, gay or hetero.”
    “It’s the quiet guys you gotta watch,” Karen joked.
    “I’m just saying I’m not really sold on him as a suspect in a strangulation homicide, that’s all.”
    “So you’re just driving all the way out here as a special favor to me.”
    “I’m driving out here because it’s a beautiful day, Burkes Garden is a pretty spot, and a good-looking woman wanted to go sight-seeing .”
    Karen snorted.
    The road wound its way up the mountain , trees lining each side, the sun green and yellow as it filtered through the leaves. Branham slowed at each hairpin turn and accelerated through very short straight - aways, slowing again as the road bent once more, right then left, then right. Two lanes only, with a faded solid center line and no shoulders . Karen prayed they wouldn’t find themselves behind a slow-moving vehicle or it ’ d take Branham forever to pass.
    Before long they swung south and drove through an opening in the ridge. The road clung to the foot of the mountain slope on the right. On the left through the trees Karen could see a creek and beyond that the slope on the far side.
    “This is called The Gap,” Branham said. “It takes us into Burkes Garden.”
    It was pretty scenery, she had to admit.
    The Gap began to open up and they reached an intersection where a road on the left crossed a bridge over the creek. “That’s Back Road. It loops around the east ern rim of the valley. We’ll stay on 623 here because it’ll take us directly to the monastery.”
    After several miles they turned off into a driveway through a large open gate with a sign that said, “Monastery of God : Everyone Welcome.” Just inside the gate was a large campus map and another sign that said: “Visitors please report to Reception. Patients may proceed directly to Clinic.”
    The driveway ran straight for about a hundred feet and then slope d upward. Karen looked at page wire fencing on either side and saw a couple of horses loitering in the field on the left. Ahead there were typical farm buildings : barns, two silos, several sheds , then the driveway branched off to the right . Karen saw a two-story structure with a sign that said Clinic , a long, three-story building behind the clinic that was accessed by cement sidewalks, and a typical Virginian farm house on the right with a sign that said Reception . Branham eased into an open spot in the visitor’s parking lot.
    “These people are exemplary citizens as far as we’re concerned,” Branham said , shutting off the engine . “No records, no reports of anything illegal, no traffic stops, no nothing.”
    “I ge t it,” Karen said. “Reclusive w ackjobs who fly under the radar.”
    “What I’m getting at—”
    “—is that you want me to keep my mouth shut.” Karen smiled at him. “Your play, Deputy Chief. I’ll be good.”
    “Thank you.”
    They got out of the car and Karen followed him through the front door. The exterior might look like a typical farm house, but the interior, Karen saw, had been completely redesigned. They stood in a large reception area that was furnished with armchairs and love seats in an Amish-looking style, coffee tables with magazines, a bookcase filled with books, reading lamps and a side table with a coffee machine, coffee cups, and the fixings. A man wearing a full length white cassock got up from a desk and approached them.
    “Deputy Chief Branham, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling. “We met last year . Brother Miles.”
    “Right,” Branham said, shaking hands. “This is Detective Karen Stainer. We’re here to see Brother Charles Baker.”
    “Nice to meet you, Detective,” Brother Miles said. He waited for Karen to offer to shake hands, and when she didn’t, he smiled