The Organist Wore Pumps (The Liturgical Mysteries) (26 page)

Nancy nodded and put a slice of pizza on her plate.

“
Well,” I said, “we know that this LaGrassa guy was a big-time thief as well as a killer. So, let’s just say that he stole this wine...”

“
Him or his partner,” added Dave. “Or maybe both of them.”

Nancy pointed her finger in agreement. “And she was storing it for him until he could get over to this side of the country to get it.”

“
He’d have to drive it back to Montana,” said Dave.

“
Probably,” I said. “So LaGrassa shows up at the auction with four thousand dollars after getting a message that his property is going to be auctioned off. He might have even had more than that. What we
do
know is that he didn’t have ten thousand because that’s when he stopped bidding. Whatever the figure was, he thought that he had plenty. More than enough, in fact.”

“
But then Bud spotted the wine,” said Nancy, smiling. “And he knew it for what it was.”

“
And I just happened to be there,” I said. “And, by golly, Sal was outbid.”

“
He must have been furious,” said Dave, finishing off his second slice and taking a third.

“
What about the second sentence in Mushrat’s reading?” asked Nancy. “The mark is set. Twenty thousand is the price.”

“
Sounds like a hit to me,” I said.

“
Yeah,” agreed Nancy. “Me, too.”

“
So Deacon Mushrat stumbled onto a hit and inadvertently announced it in his Bible reading?” asked Dave.

“
It appears so,” I said.

“
How would he have gotten that information?” said Nancy.

“
I’m betting it was an email,” I said. “Gaylen told me he was going through her files. He didn’t have much compunction about sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Right click, left click. What if he pasted part of an email he didn’t even know he’d copied into his sermon notes? Notes that included the scripture lesson?”

“
What about his computer at the church?” asked Nancy. “Why don’t we get a warrant and go through it?”

“
He didn’t have one yet. He did have a friend on the staff, though. She might have let him use her computer to type his notes.”

Nancy and Dave both looked at me.

“
And Kimberly Walnut drives a black Chevy Tahoe.”

Chapter 27

“
I’d really like to get on her computer without her knowing about it,” I said.

“
Well, Judge Adams gave us the warrant. You want me to call Panty Patterson?”

“
Yeah. Let’s give him a call. We need to do this after hours. See if he can come over tonight. Maybe around eleven o’clock.”

“
They’re up all hours anyway,” said Nancy.

Panty Patterson was one of the Patterson brothers. He and his brother Dale ran the crematorium outside of town. Meg’s mother, Ruby, had owned the enterprise for a brief period, after inheriting it from Thelma Wingler and before selling the whole shebang to Panty.

Panty was an albino. He had a high forehead and very small, piggy features. He always dressed in clean overalls, white, collared shirts buttoned all the way up, and Wolverine steel-toed work boots. He’d also just completed his doctorate in computer science at Georgia Tech. Dale, his brother, was not as fortunate, having barely completed the second grade. Panty took care of Dale. Dale took care of the bodies in the crematorium.

“
You know,” said Nancy, “we still have a few questions that need answering.”

“
Yeah, I know.”

“
Questions like, how did
your
gun kill Donald Mushrat and Sal LaGrassa when it was locked in your truck? And, what did Mushrat say on Wednesday night that caused whoever shot him to risk plugging him during the service right in front of you, God, and everybody?”

“
Two good questions,” I agreed. “Here’s another. ‘The mark is set. Twenty thousand is the price.’ It sounds like a contract to me. Who’s it on?”

“
Oh, crap!” exclaimed Nancy. “I forgot about that.”

“
I expect that, if LaGrassa’s partner is still in the game, that hit is still scheduled.”

“
Maybe it’s somebody in California. Or Australia. Nothing to do with us.”

“
Let’s hope so.”

•••

Panty Patterson drove up to the back door of St. Barnabas Church at eleven o’clock sharp. Most of the electric Christmas decorations downtown had been shut off and, except for a small crowd at the Bear and Brew, the square was all but deserted. Nancy and I were waiting for him under a security light, and I unlocked the church as he exited his old Cadillac and rumbled up the steps to meet us.

“
Hi, Chief,” he said. “Merry Christmas!”

“
Merry Christmas to you,” I said. “Thanks for helping us with this.”

“
We have the warrant right here,” said Nancy, fishing around in her coat pocket.

“
Don’t worry about it,” said Panty. “You’re the one that needs it. Not me.”

We entered the church and made our way down the hall to the suite of offices. I reached behind the copy machine, found the magnetic box, retrieved the master key, and unlocked Kimberly Walnut’s door. Her computer was a Dell PC, about a year old.

“
Vista,” Panty sneered as he sat down in the chair and pushed the on button. “This won’t take long.”

The computer hummed to life and a couple of welcome screens came and went.

“
I think the computer’s password protected,” I said. “At least mine is.”

Panty’s fat fingers flew over the keys for about seven seconds.

“
Okay. We’re in,” he said. “What are we looking for?”

“
Wow,” I said. “That’s it?”

“
Vista,” said Panty, as if the one word explained everything.

“
We need all her email,” said Nancy. “Everything on the St. Barnabas server, plus her Gmail and any Yahoo accounts. Let’s copy her hard drive, too. Also, we need a list of every web-site this computer has accessed in the past month and all the passwords, if any. And don’t leave any tracks. Can you do that?”

“
Yep.” Panty’s fingers danced across the keys. “This’ll take me about a half-hour,” he said. “How do y’all want the information?”

Nancy produced a small black and red box and a couple of wires from her pocket and laid them on the desk. Panty nodded absently and turned his concentration back to his task.

“
That little box will hold all that?” I said.

“
It’s a plug and play, USB 37 terabyte encrypted hard drive,” said Nancy.

“
I see,” I said, not seeing at all. “So the answer would be ‘yes?’”

Panty snorted but didn’t look up.

“
This box will hold all the information stored on every personal computer in Watauga county,” she said.

“
Really?”

“
Pretty close,” agreed Panty.

“
Too bad you can’t play the organ,” said Nancy, looking wistfully at my broken arm. “I wouldn’t mind listening to some Christmas music while we wait.”

•••

“
It’s going to take me a few hours to go through all this,” said Nancy, dropping the hard drive back into her pocket. “Even using a data search. But if Donald Mushrat was playing on her computer, I’ll find out.”

Chapter 28

“
Kimberly Walnut owns a black 2003 Chevy Tahoe. Four-wheel drive,” said Dave.

“
That’d be about right,” I said. “She parks it in back of the church.”

“
Flori Cabbage drives a Jeep Grand Wagoneer, but it’s an ‘89. Dark blue with wood trim on the doors. Kylie Moffit has a dark gray Nissan Murano. It’s all-wheel drive, rather than a 4x4, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“
Neither would I.”

“
Muffy drives a Beemer.”

“
It’s not Muffy,” I said.

“
Can I still keep an eye on her?” asked Dave.

“
Sure,” I said with a smile. “Knock yourself out.”

“
Hey! What if Sal LaGrassa was gay. Maybe his partner is a man.”

I thought for a moment, trying to come up with a reason this theory wouldn’t work. I couldn’t.

“
Can’t discount it,” I said, “but the FBI is pretty sure it’s a woman. I think we have to go with their assessment for the time being.”

Nancy came into the station, took a donut out of the box on the counter and plopped down in her chair.

“
Nothing,” she said. “Mushrat was not using that computer.”

“
You’re sure?” I asked.

“
I’m sure. I
will
tell you that Kimberly Walnut has been spending quite a lot of time on eHarmony.com.”

“
The dating site?” I asked.

“
Yep. She’s hot and heavy with an insurance salesman from Knoxville. You should see some of their emails!”

“
No, thanks,” I said. “Any evidence that she and Mushrat were dancing the horizontal tango?”

“
Nope,” said Nancy. “They never exchanged any emails, as far as I could tell. Of course, that doesn’t mean that they weren’t involved. Just that Mushrat didn’t send her any emails.”

“
Okay, then,” I said, “if Mushrat wasn’t using Kimberly Walnut’s computer, whose was he using?”

Nancy and I looked at each other, as the realization hit us both at the same time.

“
The library,” we said, in unison.

•••

Rebecca Watts and Diana Terry were behind the circulation desk filing books when Nancy and I entered through the double glass doors.

“
We need to see the library computer,” I said.

“
Sure,” said Rebecca. “Which one?”

“
The public one that’s hooked up to the printer and the internet,” I answered.

“
It’s right there,” said Diana, pointing to an old Hewlett Packard sitting on a small table against the wall. “But I’m afraid it won’t do you any good. I haven’t gotten it up and running yet.”

“
What do you mean?” asked Nancy.

“
Someone tried to use it yesterday afternoon, and the system wouldn’t come up. There’s something wrong with it.”

“
Maybe it’s just old,” I suggested.

“
Could be,” said Diana. “It was working yesterday morning. Then, nothing. I was going to reload all the software, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”