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“That’s a question we’ll need to find out the answer to. I think we need to pay another visit to Reverend Thomas and Lorna Dewberry. They know something.”
Chapter Eight
The church was deserted when we pulled back in the lot, but Johnny Duggan was hunched over the flowerbeds, trimming the hedges in a pair of overalls that had grass stains from ankles to armpits. Johnny had been the unfortunate soul who’d found Fiona Murphy’s body last winter by the side of the road. He’d aged what looked like a hundred years since then.
He turned toward us when we pulled into the church lot and tossed his hedge trimmers onto one of the bags of mulch he had laid out in a straight line. He held up a hand in greeting and waited for us to come over.
“Morning, Sheriff,” Johnny said. “Doc Graves. Good to have you home.”
My eyes stung a little because he sounded like he meant it, and I all could do was nod back. Johnny had been a contemporary of my grandparents, but he’d watched my dad grow up from infancy, and he’d been devastated when my parents had died. He’d been one of the only people to seek me out and tell me to my face he didn’t think my parents had been guilty of the charges the FBI were laying at their feet. Too bad he’d been wrong about that. I’d found all the proof I needed hidden away in an underground cellar at their cabin. But Johnny had never judged me for my father’s sins, and I knew when the latest info about my parents’ activities broke in the news that he still wouldn’t blame me.
“Morning, Johnny,” Jack said. “Nice looking flowers you’ve got there.”
“Got ‘em from the nursery over in Fredricksburg. They have their own greenhouses, and they don’t use chemicals. Ms. Dewberry thinks it’s important for the church to be anti-chemical.”
I coughed and turned my head so I wouldn’t burst into laughter at the look on Johnny’s face at the mention of Lorna Dewberry. It was obvious he didn’t hold her opinions in high regard.
“We’re here to see the Reverend and Ms. Dewberry,” Jack said. “Are they in the rectory or inside the church?”
“I heard you was already here this morning,” he said, scratching the silver whiskers on his chin. “Ms. Dewberry was fit to be tied that her morning schedule was off, but the Reverend calmed her down right enough. Sad about what happened to Reverend Oglesby. He was a good man.”
“Did you know him?” I asked.
“Bout as well as anyone, I reckon. And by that I mean not well. He was a quiet fellow. Did his duty here at the church, and I’ve seen him a couple times coming and going from the hospital. He always had a polite hello to say and always asked about my family.”
“Thank you, Johnny,” Jack said. “I guess we’ll go disrupt Ms. Dewberry’s schedule a little more.”
“Gonna have a hard time doing that,” Johnny said. “She drove the Reverend down to North Carolina to speak with Reverend Oglesby’s father and bring him back here for the services. You only missed them by half an hour. They said they’d be back late tonight or early in the mornin’. Someone from Richmond is supposed to come in and fill Reverend Oglesby’s position temporarily until someone new can be found. He’ll be here in the morning.”
Jack sighed and I could feel the frustration coming off him in waves, but he hid it well from Johnny.
“Thanks again, Johnny. We’ll be seeing you around.”
Johnny reached out and put his hand on Jack’s arm to stop him. “I heard some of what was done to that boy,” he said. “Whispers get out, no matter how quiet you try to keep it.”
“Don’t I know it,” Jack said.
Johnny’s eyes were dead serious and steady on Jack’s. “We like to think we’ve progressed, and that we’re all accepting of change with the times. But people lie to themselves every day. No one really likes change. And things aren’t all that different from when I was a boy. You be careful, son. Very careful. I’m tired of standing over gravesites of people I’ve known since they were in diapers.”
“I don’t suppose you’d know where I should get started?” Jack asked.
“I wouldn’t know a thing like that,” Johnny said, dropping his hand and bending down to pick up his shears. “I keep my head down and do my work. Take care of my family. Just like my father and grandfather did before me. But you might talk to the sheriff over in Westmoreland County. Seems I remember hearing a similar story a few months back when I was there getting a trailer full of mulch. ”
Jack and I said our goodbyes to Johnny and got back in the cruiser. I couldn’t control the shivers that racked my body, and I huddled tighter in my coat.
“Do you think he’s part of it?” I asked as we headed back into town.
“No, but he’s given us as much of a warning that we’re on the right track as he can without bringing danger to his own family. I’m going to drop you off at the funeral home. I need to do some checking and put out some feelers. Will you be okay?”
“I’m fine, Jack. I’ve got Reverend Oglesby to keep me company and organs to weigh.” I didn’t bother telling him I’d be fine as long as I didn’t go to sleep. But I had a feeling he already knew more than I wanted him to.
“I’ll be back by dinner,” he said. “I’ve never had a campout on the third floor of the funeral home before. I’ll bring the stuff for S’mores and a couple of sleeping bags. Campouts are always more fun with company.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief I didn’t know I’d been holding.Never forget to breathe, J.J.
***
Other than being beaten to hell, Daniel Oglesby had been a very healthy thirty-six year old man. I lost track of the hours that went by as I studied every inch of the victim. There hadn’t been any food left in the stomach or small intestines, so I’d been able to firm up the time of death around the 48-52 hour mark, which would put TOD anywhere from 11pm Tuesday night to 3am Wednesday morning. Which also told me his body had been kept somewhere fairly cool and protected because he hadn’t decomposed as much as he should have for being dead that long.
