Up from the Grave by Marilyn Leach Read Free Book Online

Dudley Horn a five pound note, said he was a fine publican, and told him to put a rush on. In terms of the rest of the lot in there, you can probably imagine.”
    “Let’s see,” Berdie made her voice hoarse and deep. “’Hey vicar, disposing of wayward parishioners in the church garden now, are ya’?”
    “Along those lines, yes.” Hugh displayed the shadow of a smirk. “At least they’re up front on the whole matter, and humor is a very acceptable way of putting dreadful things in order.”
    Berdie admired Hugh’s ability to accept people just where they were. There were leaders in the church who would have found such comments deeply offensive. But her husband was not one of them. She popped a quick loving peck on his cheek.
    “What’s that for?” he asked.
    “You still spend a few bob to impress your wife with roast chicken, of course,” she teased.
    When they pulled into the vicarage drive, police tapes were visible across the church back garden. An auto track on the grass lead to a white transit van displaying the word Coroner on the side. A small tent draped protection over the dig, and white-capped workers went about their business, but Berdie didn’t see Dr. Meredith or Constable Goodnight.
    Once inside the vicarage, sitting at the tiny wooden table in the gracious kitchen of Oak Leaf Cottage, it felt a tender sanctuary.
    “For what we are about to receive we are truly grateful,” rolled off Hugh’s lips with a keen sense of appreciation. He gripped his fork and looked at Berdie with a sigh. “And I’m not half grateful that days like this one are rare in our parish.”
    Berdie nodded her head in agreement.
    “A simple plan gone pear shaped.”
    “And a broken promise.” Berdie felt the prick of guilt stab at her.
    “How’s that?” Hugh tucked his fork into the potatoes.
    “Cherry Lawler approached me this morning and expressed concern for her grandfather. I told her I’d ask you to see him before the ceremony. I lost track of you, and then I simply forgot.”
    “Ah.” Hugh didn’t seem upset. “Easy to do on such a busy day, and we have no assurance that anything I could have said would have helped.” Hugh cut a piece of meat from the chicken bone. “One redeeming note: I’m so pleased Wilkie appears to be recovering.”
    “Mary seems slightly improved, too.” Berdie drew her napkin across her lips. “Did Dr. Honeywell say anything to you about Wilkie’s condition?”
    “That information is strictly between the doctor and his patient, and you are fully aware of that. Wilkie did mention to me that he was out of his high blood pressure tablets. He was sure that was today’s problem.”
    “Did he? That’s odd.”
    “Doesn’t seem odd to me.”
    “And the picture of their grandchild, that was off as well.”
    “Off?”
    “Don’t grandparents rabbit on when you view a picture of their grandchild?” She went on. “Well, neither did that. And they keep the photo in a drawer. Now that’s off.”
    Hugh took a deep inhale. “Berdie, are you prying?”
    Berdie sensed a bit of impatience in Hugh’s voice. “Simply observing.” She took another bite of mash. “And another thing, there was a full bottle of blood pressure tablets sitting on the dresser in the bedroom. His name was on it.”
    Hugh swallowed. “Wilkie’s elderly. He probably forgot he had an extra bottle.”
    “Pensioners, don’t have extra bottles of medication lying about.”
    Hugh lifted his left eyebrow, which was always the sign to Berdie that something didn’t meet his pleasure. “Have you taken to rummaging through people’s bedrooms?”
    “Hugh Elliott”—Berdie’s volume raised a decibel—“I should say not.”
    “Good, let’s keep it that way.”
    Just as Berdie’s lips formed a definitive defense, the vicarage phone in the hallway let out its holy bleating.
    “I’ll get it.” Hugh stood and made hasty steps toward the hallway.
    “Saved by the bell, that.”
    Berdie knew exactly