Mark Schweizer - Liturgical 12 - The Cantor Wore Crinolines by Mark Schweizer Read Free Book Online Page B

“Which, by the way, is what I’m having for lunch.”
    “ What? ” said Ruby. “That’s not the special!”
    “You don’t know me,” said Meg, her eyebrows raised. “I am unpredictable. I might do anything.”
    Our waiter appeared at the table and filled our water glasses.
    “Hi, Wallace,” said Meg, smiling at the college-aged kid. “How’s school going?”
    “Fine, Mrs. Konig. I have a full schedule, plus choir and orchestra, so I’m staying busy, I can tell you. What can I get you to drink?”
    “I’ll have sweet tea,” Meg said.
    “Same for me,” Ruby added.
    “Make that three,” I said, “and we’re probably ready to order.”
    “Great,” Wallace said, pulling a pad from his apron pocket. “Would you like to hear about our spec … ?”
    “I’ll have the warm green bean and cashew salad,” interrupted Meg. “With those other acorny things. That’s what I want. It’s right there on the menu.”
    “Umm, yes, ma’am,” said Wallace, “but our special today is a lightly grilled tuna with shaved fennel dressed in herb oils and a spicy marinade. It’s served with a fresh garden salad.”
    “I’ll have that,” said Ruby. “The special.”
    Meg’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, I”ll have that, too.”
    “Ditto,” I said with a laugh.
    Wallace said, “I can substitute the warm green bean salad for the garden salad if you’d like,” and Meg brightened immediately.
    “Thank you. Just a small salad, though,” she said.
    “Of course,” said Wallace, writing everything down.
    We’d almost finished our salads when I saw Nancy and Dave come in the front door or the restaurant and look around. They spotted us and quickly made their way back to the table.
    “Sorry to interrupt your lunch, Chief,” Nancy said, “but you gotta come right now.”
    Dave nodded his agreement.
    “What’s up?” I said. “You find something in the house?” I knew that both of them had been over at Bud’s new house first thing this morning.
    “We didn’t find anything at the house on Maple Street,” said Dave, then lowered his voice, “but we just got a call from a woman named Rachel Walt. She’s a real estate agent in Banner Elk.”
    “Yeah?” I said. Nancy looked as though she was standing guard, hands on her hips, checking out the patrons at the other tables to make sure no one was overtly eavesdropping.
    “She bought one of those houses yesterday,” continued Dave. “The first one that sold, the one on Oak Street.”
    “I remember.”
    He lowered his voice and bent low over the table. “She just called. There’s a dead body in one of the closets.”
    “ What?! ” blurted Meg.
    “Shh,” said Dave. “Keep your voice down, will you.”
    “Are you serious?” whispered Ruby. “Another body?”
    “Oh, yeah,” answered Dave. “We haven’t been over there yet. We were at the other house when I got the call on my cell. Nancy said you’d be over here eating lunch.”
    “Well, it is Sunday,” said Meg, then turned to me, “You go on. I’ll settle the bill. Give me a call when you get a chance and let me know what’s going on.”

Chapter 6
     
    We walked the two blocks from downtown to the corner of Oak and Greenaway. 317 Oak Street was an address that had some history to it. The house number hadn’t resonated with me during the auction, but as we walked up, all of us recognized it as the old Cemetery Cottage, so called because of the five tombstones set deep in the back of the property. These overgrown markers were from the 1860s and, although there had been some talk about moving the remains to a more suitable grave yard, either Mountainview Cemetery or Wormy Acres, nothing had been settled and the owners had been content to let the dead lie undisturbed.
    The house was a nondescript 1920s vacation house, probably originally with no insulation, no electricity, and no plumbing, that had been converted sometime in its life to four-season living. It looked much like every other