Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(84)

Hannah went on red alert. Grandma Knudson, usually an extremely competent and self-confident person, sounded very unsure of herself. “Does your doubt have to do with your faith?” she asked, hoping that wasn’t the case. She really wasn’t sure how to deal with anyone who was having a crisis of faith.

“Oh no, dear. My faith is as strong as ever. It’s just…if you can, I’d like to see you, Hannah. I really need to talk to someone who’ll understand.”

“Understand what, Grandma Knudson?”

“I’m afraid I’m having some kind of breakdown. I’m beginning to doubt my own mind!”

The moment she stepped into the parsonage kitchen, Hannah knew something was drastically wrong. There was no coffee, and the pot was stone cold.

“Grandma Knudson?” she called out, carrying the box of cookie bars she’d hastily packed. They were Chocolate Euphoria Cookie Bars made with the substitute for sweetened condensed milk.

“I’m here. In my…my sitting room,” Grandma Knudson replied, and to Hannah’s ears, she sounded frail and confused.

“I’ll be right there,” Hannah said, heading down the hallway without stopping to put on a fresh pot of coffee or even unpacking the cookie bars she’d brought. If Grandma Knudson was ill, she’d call Doc Knight right away.

When Hannah entered the sitting room, she found Grandma Knudson in her favorite chair, an open Bible on her lap. “What’s wrong, Grandma Knudson?” she asked.

“It’s Matthew. But I don’t think he is Matthew. That’s the problem. And if I tell you, you’re going to think I’m a senile old woman!”

“Never!” Hannah replied immediately, opening the bakery box and gesturing toward the bar cookies. “Have one. They’re Chocolate Euphoria Cookie Bars made with the substitute for sweetened condensed milk that I sent you.”

Grandma Knudson perked up a bit. “The one with powdered milk and butter?”

“No, the one without any milk at all. Try one and tell me if it’s almost as good as the real ones.”

Grandma Knudson reached for a bar and took a bite. She chewed for a moment and then she nodded. “Different, but just as good. And much cheaper. I had Clara and Marguerite pick me up a couple of cans of sweetened, condensed milk, and they were almost three dollars and fifty cents apiece!”

“I didn’t realize it had gotten that expensive,” Hannah said, wondering if she should remind Grandma Knudson why she was here, or leave well enough alone. The little discussion about baking and ingredient prices seemed to have settled her down.

“Sit down, Hannah,” Grandma Knudson said, gesturing toward the awful pink davenport. “I want to tell you why I called you. And then you can decide whether I’ve gone ‘round the bend, or not.”

Hannah’s heart sank as she sat down on the uncomfortable davenport. It seemed she didn’t have to remind Grandma Knudson of anything. The matriarch of the Lake Eden Holy Redeemer Lutheran Church had an agenda, and she was sticking to it.

“Remember when I thought the fake Matthew wasn’t Matthew for all the wrong reasons?”

“Yes, I do,” Hannah said, nodding quickly. “And you turned out to be right.”

“I don’t think so now. Now I think this Reverend Matthew is a fake. As a matter of fact, I’m sure of it. And I’m afraid that makes me into a confused old lady who doesn’t know up from down.”

Hannah wasn’t about to touch that one. It did sound crazy. Instead of commenting, she decided to ask a question. “What makes you think this minister isn’t Reverend Matthew?”

“That’s just it, Hannah. I’m beginning to think the first Reverend Matthew was the real one. And I don’t think this one is a minister at all. He did something that no real minister would do, and that’s what convinced me.”

“What did he do?” Hannah asked, beginning to get a little confused with names and pronouns herself. “The current Reverend Matthew, I mean.”

“He stood on the Bible.”

Now Hannah really was confused. “Is that like standing up for Jesus?”

“No. I mean standing, with his feet, right on top of the holy scriptures! That’s something a real minister would never do, Hannah. It’s disrespectful!”

“I can understand that,” Hannah said quickly. “It would be like having a tea party with the communion glasses.”

“My little sister did that,” Grandma Knudson confided, “and everyone was horrified. But she was just a little child who didn’t know any better. She saw the small cups and thought they were doll size. This is different, Hannah. A real minister, an adult who’s gone through the seminary and been ordained, would never treat the Bible that way.”

“Where was…the current Matthew when he did this?”

“In the church office no more than fifteen minutes ago. I called you right after I saw him. He said he was too busy to come to the parsonage for tea, so I decided to bring him a tray. I found him standing on a little pile of books so that he could look at the top of the tallest bookcase. There’s nothing up there, Hannah. I don’t know why he was doing that.”

“And you think one of the books he stood on was the Bible?”

“I know it was. I knocked on the open door, and he stepped down right away. And then he came to meet me and took the tray. He said it was sweet of me to bring him tea and he appreciated it. And then he said he was doing research for next Sunday’s sermon. And that’s when I saw that the top book on the pile, the one he’d been standing on, was the Bible. I just wish I knew what he was looking for on that top shelf.”