Confession Is Murder
Read Confession Is Murder Online
Authors: Peg Cochran
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #Mystery, #New Jersey, #saints, #Jersey girl, #church, #Italian
Confession Is Murder
For middle-aged “Jersey girl” Lucille Mazzarella, only two things in life really count—her family and her friends. When her brother-in-law’s body falls out of a church confessional, everything she holds dear is threatened, especially when the police arrest her husband for the murder.
Plagued by hot flashes, a thickening waistline, a mother addicted to the home shopping channel, and a sexy old flame who’s come back to town, Lucille really has her hands full. And while she may not know much about solving crimes, this traditional churchgoer with very modern attitudes knows that with some prayers, some fast thinking, and some even faster talk, she might just be able to nail the killer and restore order to her life.
Beyond the Page Books
are published by
Beyond the Page Publishing
Copyright © 2012, 2013 by Peg Cochran
Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs
ISBN: 978-1-937349-81-3
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Contents
Chapter 1
“Holy shit!”
Lucille jumped back as the man slid out of the confessional and landed at her feet. Maybe he’d fainted—like people used to back when you had to fast before Communion?
She shifted the vase of dead flowers she was carrying to the crook of her left arm, bent down, and patted his shoulder gently. Nothing. She shook him again, a little harder this time. No response. He was wearing dark blue work pants and some kind of red cap. She couldn’t see his face, but there was something about him that seemed kind of familiar.
She poked him with her toe, and he plopped onto his back.
“Joseph!” Lucille dropped the vase, and shattered glass and fetid water spewed across the marble floor. She tiptoed around the mess, knelt beside him, and shook him gently. “Come on, Joseph, wake up. Are you sick or something?”
His head lolled to one side.
Something was wrong. She had to get an ambulance—call a doctor—dial 911.
Lucille hoisted herself to her feet. Sheesh, she couldn’t hardly kneel down no more without her knees getting all stiff. She turned and ran out of the church, arms pumping. She could see Father Brennan in the distance, coming down the path between the rectory and the church. The wind tugged at his cassock, swirling it around his ankles. Lucille waved, and he motioned back, moving at an infuriatingly slow pace.
She stopped for a moment to catch her breath.
“Yo, Father Brennan, come quick,” she yelled. “Yo. Father Brennan, you’ve got to come right now. It’s my brother-in-law, Joseph. He’s sick or something. We’ve got to get help.”
She ran back into the church to check on Joseph again. And make sure the whole thing hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. She’d been rather nervy lately what with everything that had happened with Frank and all. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her?
Lucille skirted the puddle of water and broken glass and knelt beside Joseph. She shook him again, but he still didn’t move.
What was taking Father Brennan so long? She ran back to the door and nearly screamed when he appeared in front of her. It gave her the creeps the way he ghosted about in those rubber-soled shoes of his—reminded her of the nuns back in grade school and how they would suddenly just
be
there. And of course it was always when you were doing something wrong.
“What is it, Lucille?”
Lucille’s mouth flapped open and closed but no words came out. Father Brennan kept staring at her with those watery blue eyes of his, his eyebrows raised so high they threatened to disappear into his receding hairline.
Lucille pointed mutely toward where Joseph lay sprawled outside the confessional. “It’s Joseph. I think he’s ill. You’ve got to do something, Father. Call an ambulance. Quick.”
Father Brennan knelt beside Joseph and felt his neck and wrist. He shook his head. “There’s no pulse.”
“There’s got to be, Father. Try again. Please.”
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do for him now except pray.” But he got a cell phone out of his pocket and punched in 911.
“What am I gonna tell Connie? They’re celebrating their nineteenth anniversary this month.” Lucille paced up and down along the back of the church. “Paper. That’s what I heard you’re supposed to get someone for their nineteenth, but I thought that was kind of stupid, so I popped into RSVP Gifts and picked out the cutest little—”
Lucille ground to a halt. Father Brennan was staring balefully at her. “Are you sure he’s dead?” She sniffled and pulled her black leather jacket more closely around her.
Father Brennan nodded.
“Shit.”
Father Brennan crossed himself and gave her the same look he did the time she knocked over the table with all the Virgin Mary statues on it.
“Lucille, may I remind you, we’re in the Lord’s house.”
“It’s just that I don’t know how we’re going to break this to Connie.” She began to cry. She rummaged in her pockets, but all she found was the dirty paper napkin she’d used to clean the windshield.
“Let us pray, my child.” Father Brennan clasped his hands and bowed his head.
“St. Aldegundis,” Lucille said and crossed herself.
“I beg your pardon?”
“St. Aldegundis,” she repeated. “Patron saint against sudden death. I mean, it looks like it was sudden, don’t it?”
Father Brennan sighed and began moving his lips silently. Lucille bowed her head, although all she could think about was poor Joseph lying there and Connie—what was this going to do to her?
After a few moments Father Brennan looked up. “I’ll be right back. You stay here and make sure no one comes in.”
“Who, me?” Lucille was already edging toward the door. “I’m starting to feel a little faint here—”
Father Brennan steered her toward a pew. “Sit down, and you’ll be fine. Pray the Rosary; it will calm you.”
Lucille sat in the pew and made the Sign of the Cross. She didn’t have a rosary, but maybe she could count on her fingers. She began the Apostles’ Creed. Halfway through she got all confused and had to start over. She couldn’t help but think about the awfulness of it all, and saying the Rosary wasn’t helping none. Dinner—that was the ticket. Think about dinner and what she would make. A nice eggplant parmagiana perhaps? She was mentally going through her refrigerator, wondering if she’d need to make a stop at the A&P, when she heard sirens in the distance.
Joseph lay between her and the door, and she started to cry again as she edged past him, eyes averted. She got to the entrance in time to see three police cars pull into the church parking lot. Must be the whole lot of them, Lucille thought as she watched them swing into position. New Providence was a quiet town, given that it was in New Jersey—today was obviously even quieter than usual.
A tide of blue rushed through the door, and Lucille pressed back against the wall as five policemen swept past and gathered around Joseph. She edged closer and craned her neck, but all she could see were broad blue backs. She wondered what they were doing—maybe they were trying some of that CPR stuff? Maybe there was still some hope?
A sixth policeman came up the church aisle and stopped in front of Lucille.
“Okay, ma’am, you want to tell us what happened? How you came to find the body, that is.” He shifted from one haunch to the other, his hand caressing the butt of his gun.
Sheesh, Lucille thought. Like everyone didn’t know he was her nephew. “Oh, come off it, Gabe. I used to diaper your cute little butt when you were a baby.”
The other officers laughed, and Gabe reddened furiously.
“Besides, it’s not a body, it’s your Uncle Joseph. He must have had a heart attack or something.” Lucille tried to peer around Gabe. “What are they doing over there, anyway?”
Gabe motioned with his head. “That’s our new defibrillator. We can shock the victim ourselves instead of having to wait for the ambulance.”
“Shock them? Why would you want to do that?” Lucille hoped no one would ever find her passed out on the floor and try to do that to her.
“Sometimes it gets the victim’s heart going again.”
Lucille made the Sign of the Cross. They’d better get Joseph’s heart going again, or else she didn’t know what she was going to tell Connie.
The squeal of a siren echoed around the church parking lot, and everyone turned toward the door. Two men with a stretcher muscled their way in and trotted down the aisle to where the police were gathered around Joseph. A third rescue worker followed, carrying a square black box and panting a little. Lucille recognized him as the fellow who worked behind the meat counter at the A&P.
They pushed their way through the cordon of police and knelt beside Joseph. They were doing something, but Lucille couldn’t see what it was. Not that she wanted to—she always made Frank change the channel whenever one of those hospital programs came on.
Lucille looked around. Wait till she told Flo about this. It was just like TV—cops swarming all over the place. There was a cute one who was stringing out lines of yellow police tape. He had a nice swagger. Lucille watched him go about his business. She liked a man with a bit of a swagger when he walked.
“What the hell is going on here?” The voice was deep and authoritative.
They spun around. A man entered the church. He was silhouetted against the light from the door, and Lucille had to squint to see him.
