Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(31)

A wave of stale air rolled out to meet her as Hannah pushed the door open and stepped in. It was scented with dying flowers and the faint odor of fuel oil from the old furnace. Even though the inside door to the small windowless entry room was open, only feeble light filtered in from the stained glass windows that graced the walls in the body of the church.

Hannah felt for the light switch, but she couldn’t seem to find it. She debated the wisdom of leaving the outside door open for light and air, but then she remembered the huge heating bills that the church incurred every winter. This was the coldest February on record, and her eyes would adjust to the dim light.

It took a few moments after she’d closed the outside door, but at last she could see well enough to move forward in the crowded room. A tall dresser with wide, shallow drawers sat against the wall. It contained the sparkling white linen for communion. The top of the dresser held a large, round silver tray that had been polished to a high gleam by Hannah’s neighbors, Marguerite and Clara Hollenbeck. The tray was peppered with small indentations for tiny round glasses that would hold the communion wine. Another smaller silver tray with a cover sat next to the large tray, ready to receive the communion wafers.

Avoiding several boxes that jutted out into her path, Hannah moved toward the doorway and stepped into the main body of the church. That was much better! The sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows was gorgeous.

“Reverend Matthew?” she called out expectantly, but there was no answer to her call. Her eyes scanned the rows of oaken pews, but the only things moving in the body of the church were tiny dust motes dancing in the beams of colored light.

Hannah gave it a minute or two, just in case Reverend Matthew had heard her and was coming from another part of the church, but there was no sound of hurrying footsteps. When she’d waited long enough, in her estimation, she moved on down the carpeted center aisle, past the tall, arched stained-glass windows on both sides of the church, and headed to the church office.

The office was opposite the stairway that led up to the choir loft, and Hannah knew that Reverend Bob had recently refurbished it. The door was shut, and she hesitated. What if Reverend Matthew was deep in prayer, or meditation, or something like that? Would it be right to interrupt him for something as mundane as lunch? But Grandma Knudson’s homemade chicken soup was certainly not mundane!

“Reverend Matthew?” Hannah called out again, and followed her query by knocking softly on the door. “Are you in there?”

There was no answer. Hannah felt her heartbeat quicken, and there was a lump in her throat. This wasn’t good, not good at all. She wanted to turn tail and run, but that would be cowardly. What if Reverend Matthew was inside and he was injured in some way? Or he had been taken suddenly ill? Or…but she didn’t want to think about that!

She called his name again. Twice. And then she reached out with shaking fingers and turned the doorknob. It took all of her gumption to push the door open slightly, just far enough so that she could see the edge of the desk. And then a bit wider. And then …

The first thing she saw was the cake, a huge slice of Grandma Knudson’s Red Devil’s Food Cake on the rug in front of the desk. There was a plate there too, obviously thrown to the floor. Hannah stared at the cake for a moment. Grandma Knudson’s mouthwatering fudge frosting was smeared into the fibers of the off-white rug, and she hoped it wouldn’t stain. But she ceased thinking about that minor problem when she spotted what was behind the desk.

Hannah stood stock still and stared at the awful sight. Reverend Matthew was seated at the desk, and it was obvious that he’d been working on next Sunday’s sermon because it was spread out on the desk in front of him. His head was resting on the pages, but he wasn’t asleep. There was something on the sheets of paper and on the desktop in front of him. That something was blood. A lot of blood. More blood than Hannah ever would have guessed a human being could contain.

“Reverend Matthew?” she asked again, in a very quiet voice. She didn’t expect an answer, and she didn’t get one. Reverend Matthew was dead.





Chapter Ten

Hannah stood there staring at the gruesome sight for what seemed like endless minutes. She might have stayed there, stationary and in shock, for much longer, but a voice rang out from the top of the bookcase.

“The wages of sin is death,” the voice said, causing Hannah to whirl around and stare at the top of the bookcase. What she saw came very close to making her break out in hysterical laughter.

It was Jacob, the mynah bird, in his cage on the bookcase. He peered down at her with beady eyes and gave a squawk that made her jump. “The wages of sin is death,” he said again in Reverend Matthew’s voice.

At that moment, the phone on the desk began to ring. Hannah reached out to answer it, but she stopped short. Only when she’d taken a tissue from the box on the reverend’s desk to preserve any existing fingerprints did she carefully lift the receiver.

“Hello?” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too shaky.

“Hannah!” It was Grandma Knudson’s voice. “Did you find Matthew?”

“Oh, yes,” Hannah said, deliberately avoiding the natural urge to turn and glance at the reverend.

“Is he coming over for lunch?”

“Uh…no, he’s not …” Hannah stopped, wondering how she could tell Grandma Knudson that her favorite house guest and her grandson’s substitute minister was dead. Certainly not on the phone. That just wouldn’t be right.