Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(85)

“Maybe he was doing research and he needed a book that was there for reference?”

Grandma Knudson shook her head. “Impossible. The only books on the top shelf are the old hymnals that Bob takes down for Vacation Bible School. The kids love to use real hymnals, but they’re hard on them so he uses the old ones. There’s nothing in there that’s not in the new hymnals, and there are at least a dozen of those on the shelf below. He was looking for something, Hannah. But I can’t figure out what it could be.”

“Is he still in the church office?” Hannah asked.

“No, he’s visiting the sick at the hospital. I didn’t call you until he left. I was afraid he’d hear me.”

“That’s good,” Hannah praised her for her caution. “As long as he’s gone, I’m going to go over to the church office to have a look.”

“Then you think he was searching for something?”

“I don’t know what else to think, unless he had a dust rag in his hand. He didn’t, did he?”

Grandma Knudson smiled for the first time. “No. He’s not as neat as the first Matthew, the one I think was real. This one leaves his clothes on the floor, just like Paul used to …” Grandma Knudson stopped and began to frown. “It can’t be!”

“It could be,” Hannah said. “Norman printed out some pictures of Matthew and Paul when they were in high school, and they looked a lot alike.”

“That’s true. Then you think this fake minister is Paul?”

“I don’t know what to think, but it’s a distinct possibility. I’m going over to search the church office. Do I need a key?”

“I don’t know if he locked it, but take mine.” Grandma Knudson reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a key on a key chain with a little bell charm attached.

“That’s cute,” Hannah commented.

“My husband gave it to me. I used to ring the church bell for him before Sunday services. What should I do if Paul or whoever he is comes back?”

“I’ll probably hear his car drive in, but if you see him turn into the lot, call me at the church office.”

“I will. Don’t let him catch you, Hannah. I have the terrible feeling that he killed Matthew.”

“I have that feeling, too. Don’t worry, Grandma. I’ll search as fast as I can and be right back.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was difficult to search when you didn’t know what you were searching for. All Hannah knew was that Grandma Knudson had seen Paul, or Matthew, or whoever he was, searching for something in the church office. Hannah’s hope was that he hadn’t found it and she would find it first.

There was nothing in the tall bookcase. Hannah had checked behind every book on every shelf. She’d even opened them all to make sure none were hollow inside to provide a hiding place.

I know why you’re here and you’re not going to find it! Jacob had said in the fake Reverend Matthew’s voice. But Grandma Knudson didn’t think he’d been the fake Reverend Matthew, not anymore. Now she thought that he was the real Reverend Matthew, and the second man who came to Lake Eden claiming to be Reverend Matthew was really Matthew’s cousin Paul.

Hannah buried her head in her hands for a moment. Just wait until she told Lisa about this newest development! It was almost too much to fathom. If she could prove that Paul had murdered Reverend Matthew and then come to Lake Eden, pretending to be Matthew so that he could identify Matthew’s body as his, everyone in town would rush to The Cookie Jar to listen to Lisa’s stories.

Hannah sighed as she searched the desk. If there’d been anything of interest, the crime scene techs would have found it, but this case had so many twists and turns, she dared not leave any stone unturned.

I know why you’re here and you’re not going to find it! Those were the words the first Reverend Matthew had spoken to his killer. And if their suspicions were correct, his killer was his cousin Paul. That meant Paul knew that Reverend Matthew had hidden whatever it was that Paul had come to Lake Eden to get. But how had Reverend Matthew gotten what Paul wanted in the first place? And where had he hidden it?

The whole thing was just too confusing for words. Hannah’s mind was spinning in circles, and she knew she had to stop thinking about who was who, and what was where. Instead, she should be concentrating on where the whatever-it-was could be hidden. It wasn’t in the church office. She’d checked everywhere. Where else would a minister hide something in his church?

“The baptismal font,” Hannah said aloud. It had a cover, and no one would think to look in there. She got up from the desk chair and raced down the aisle to the front of the church. There it was, the white marble basin with the ornate gilt-painted cover that had witnessed thousands of baptisms.

Thirty minutes later, Hannah was ready to give up her search altogether. She’d checked every hiding place at the front of the church, including the pulpit and the statues. She’d gone through every pew, looking for anything that might be taped under the seats or inside the hymnal and Bible racks. She’d searched the little storage room where the communion supplies and the vestments were kept, and she’d even explored the choir loft. The only place she hadn’t gone was the belfry and that was because she wasn’t sure how to get there. Grandma Knudson would know. She’d mentioned that she used to ring the church bell when her husband was the minister.