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My eyes met Beau’s. “No one?”
“Sad. Dying all alone like that. Anyway, I hear a strudel calling my name.”
“Interesting, although I suppose not surprising,” Beau said after she walked away.
“And, like she said, sad.”
“Hello there,” we heard a man’s voice say from behind us. “I’m Pastor Woodruff. Welcome to St. John’s.” He’d removed the robe he had on during the service but wore a black shirt with a white collar.
“I’m Beau Barrett, and this is Samantha Marquez.” Beau extended his hand, and the two men shook. “We were just talking to Mrs. Hill about Cena Covert,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the window.
The man’s eyes, so warm and welcoming only a moment ago, turned sad. And something else. Dark maybe? “Did you know Mrs. Covert?” he asked.
“No, but we were hoping you might have, or perhaps other members of the church,” said Beau.
The pastor shook his head. “She was a recluse for many years after her son passed away. Sadly, I only met her one time, and by then, she was quite ill.”
“When did her son pass away?” I asked.
He rubbed his chin. “I don’t recall exactly, but it has been three or four years now. I’d suggest you take a walk in the cemetery, but with the amount of snow that’s fallen, you won’t be able to see much. If you call the church office on Tuesday, my secretary will be able to give you that information. Oh, and that of her daughter.”
“Daughter?” Beau and I said at the same time.
The man nodded. “She was a teenager when she passed.”
My heart clenched. What a sad life Cena had lived.
“Do you know what happened?” Beau asked.
“I believe someone mentioned leukemia. However, again, my secretary would have that information.” Like Mrs. Hill, he invited us to come downstairs for coffee. We thanked him as he walked in the same direction she had.
“That she was a recluse adds another clue.”
I nodded at Beau. “You’re right. Like so much we’re learning about Cena, that she lost her daughter at such a young age is heartbreaking.”
“Very much so.” Beau turned to look at the windows. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was thinking the same thing I was. Cena and Manley’s son was honored with one. Why not their daughter?
“Coffee?”
I shook my head. “Do you think we could meet with the lawyer soon?”
“I messaged that we’d be attending the service this morning, and he suggested I ring him when we were leaving.”
We walked out the two sets of doors, and while we put on our coats, Beau called him.
“He’d like us to meet him at the Lilacs,” he said, pressing the button to end the call.
On our walk to the SUV, I glanced at the windows. While the names were reversed from the outside, I could still see which bore the Covert’s names.
“Who are you?” I whispered while I waited for Beau to open my door.
“I have a feeling we’ll soon find out,” he said after helping me inside.
14
BEAU
Ifelt as though I’d lived nine of Wanda’s lives in the last few days. Two or three today alone, and it wasn’t yet noon.
