Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(88)

“Jewels?”

“From the heist. I had to get them back. I’ve got a partner.”

“The jewels from the house in Minneapolis,” Hannah said, her mind whirling with this new information. “But how did Matthew get them?”

“We had to stash them in a safe place so I used part of the cash we got to fly to St. Louis. I was going to visit Matthew at the seminary and stash them somewhere at his place. I mean, who’d think to look for stolen jewels in a seminary?”

“That’s a good point,” Hannah said.

“But before I could even ask where he lived, I saw him carrying suitcases and stuff out to his car.”

“But he didn’t see you,” Hannah guessed. If Matthew had seen his cousin, he would have told Grandma Knudson that first afternoon.

“No, he didn’t see me. He was saying goodbye to some guy and they talked about how long he was going to be away and how he was going to visit somebody in Wisconsin and then come here. The guy was going to teach Matthew’s classes and live at his place while he was gone. I knew I didn’t dare stash the jewels there, the other guy might have found them, so I waited until Matthew went back inside, and then I hid them in a box of books in his trunk, way down in the bottom.”

“And you planned to pick them up when he got here,” Hannah concluded.

“Right. I never thought he’d find them and hide them from me! That was like…blackmail!”

Hannah nodded, even though Paul’s definitions of self-defense and blackmail left a lot to be desired. “And Matthew refused to tell you where the jewels were and said he was going to turn you over to the police?”

“Yeah. That’s it. He told me I needed to pay for the crime I committed. Isn’t that a laugh? He promised me that God would forgive me if I was truly sorry for my sins, and he would always love me like a brother. And then he did a really stupid thing. He picked up the phone and started to punch in the number. So I shot him. What else could I do? It wasn’t like I wanted to shoot him. He just didn’t give me any choice.”

“I understand,” Hannah said.

“You do?” Paul was obviously surprised at her comment. “Why do you believe me?”

“Partly because of that hole you dug in high school when the whole football team went camping.” Hannah could hear the far-off ringing of a phone, probably in the church office. If it was Grandma Knudson and Hannah didn’t answer, would she call the police? Hannah wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to keep Paul talking and buy herself more time. “You filled that hole in with leaves so that Hugh Kohler would break his leg, and your cousin Matthew could take Hugh’s place as the quarterback. That proves you liked Matthew.”

Paul laughed, and it was not a nice laugh. “You got it all wrong, sister! I didn’t dig the hole. I found the hole. And I didn’t try to trap Hugh Kohler for Matthew. I did for me. Hugh was a bully, and he picked on everybody in junior varsity. According to Hugh, nobody could do anything right, and the coach let him get away with taunting us and talking the rest of the senior squad into being vicious whenever we played practice games. That’s why I was after Hugh. He deserved that and more! I just lucked out when he broke his leg in that hole and everybody thought Matthew did it. But we’re wasting time here.”

Paul leveled the gun, and Hannah knew her time had run out.

“Stop!” she said. “I know where the jewels are.”

The gun wavered slightly as Paul considered that. “Tell me!” he demanded.

“Will you let me go if I tell you?” Hannah asked, knowing full well that he wouldn’t.

“Sure.”

“Then you’d trust me not to call the police?”

Paul gave a nasty laugh. “Not on a bet! I’ll fix it so you can’t call the police.”

“How?” Hannah asked, even though she knew she was treading on dangerous ground.

“Well, let’s see.” Paul looked amused. “I can lock you up here until someone walks by the church and hears you screaming for help. Or maybe that’s not such a good idea. I think I’d be better off stuffing a gag in your mouth so you can’t scream at all. It’ll be an educational experience for you. You can see how smart your friends are about finding you before you freeze to death. Of course, it all depends.”

“On what?” Hannah asked, listening with one half of her mind while the other half was engaged in trying to think of some clever way she could throw him off balance and recover his gun. She was almost within striking range of tackling him. He’d shoot her, of course, but if she were lucky, it would be in a nonlethal spot. If she moved fast, Paul would only have time to fire one or two shots, and it was her only chance to gain the advantage.

“It depends on whether you really know where the jewels are,” he said.

“Oh, I know.” Hannah did her best to sound confident. “I found something you missed.”

“What?”

Hannah shifted her weight, made up a story on the spot, and moved forward another inch closer to the gun. “I found the note Matthew left in the baptismal font. He knew someone would be back for the jewels, and he wrote down exactly where he put …”

She was interrupted by a massive burst of sound that resonated and reverberated through the belfry, shaking the walls and causing several of the bats that Hannah had hoped weren’t there to take flight and swoop through the small space. For a moment, she was so taken aback, she just stood there. And then she realized what it was.