Grave Apparel (31 page)

Vic
chuckled.
“You
mean
he’s
not gonna get the job
now?”
“That’s
what the
expression
‘cold day in hell’
was
made
for.”
“On the other hand, if Mac hired him,
he’d
be
Mac’s
prob lem, not yours. Damn shame
he’s
Brooke’s
boyfriend,”
he said.

“You
can’t
actually kill him.
She’d
be
upset.”

“Yeah,
a
shame
his
crazyass
theories
aren’t
true.
Then

maybe one of his space alien midgets
would
kidnap him and
take
him to another planet. It
wouldn’t
be just the scoop of the
century,
it
would
be the scoop of the
universe.”
Lacey
turned
and
gazed
at
Vic.
“I
could
deal
with
that.
How
many
light
years
does it
take
to get to Pluto?”

“You
can’t
send him to Pluto,
it’s
not
even
a planet
anymore.
It’s
a
dwarf
planet, probably where his killer
dwarf
came from. No more direct flights to Pluto, you
have
to
make
that darn lay
over
on
Neptune.”
Vic
rubbed
Lacey’s
indignant shoulders as she steamed before her computer screen.
“Try
to stop thinking about it,
Lacey,
it’ll
ruin the rest of your
day.
And we
have
bet ter things to
do.”
Vic
rubbed her shoulders just the way
she
liked.
He lifted her hair with one hand and kissed the back of her neck, sending chills straight to her heart. “I could
take
your mind
off
your
troubles,”
he
offered.
He kissed her some more.
“Remember
that
layover
on
Neptune?
It’s
nicer
on
Venus.
Warmer
climate.”

“Keep
talking,
space
cowboy.
No,
talking
isn’t
enough.
Keep
kissing
me,”
she said and turned the computer
off.
Lay
over
on
Venus,
here
we
come.

It
was
late afternoon and the
sky
was
turning
toward
twilight.
Lacey
and
Vic
had whiled
away
the afternoon in the only
way
that made them both
forget
the entire rest of the
world.
They
never
did get to go out Christmas shopping.
Lacey
turned
over
and whispered in
Vic’s
ear.

“Would
you
like
to go look at a crèche at a little church in
Washington?”

He hugged her a little
tighter.
“But I’m so comfortable here.

Your
feet are so
warm.”

She
didn’t
really
like
to think about going to church while lying in such a compromising position. She sat up. That
was
better.
“We’re
going
to
have
to
move
sometime.
We’ll
get
hungry.”

“We’ll
phone for pizza and eat it in
bed.”
She nudged him and he sat up. “Oh, let me guess. This
wouldn’t
happen to be the Church of the Little Shepherd?”

“That’s
why
you’re
such
a
good
investigator.
You
pick
up
on
all the
subtleties.”
He raised one dark
eyebrow
and she giggled. “The pastor
didn’t
call me back, so
now
I
have
to go pound on his
door.
I’m sorry we
have
to go there.
It’s
this car thing. Or
the
nothavingacar
thing.
I’d
have
to
call
a cab.
Or
your
mother.”
She grimaced. “Scratch
that.”

“Good call. She
drives
that Cadillac
like
a
maniac.”

Lacey
still missed her Nissan 280ZX, which had been stolen earlier in the
fall
and used in the commission of a vicious crime before being abandoned and stripped.
She’d
made a
few
half hearted tries at replacing the Z,
but
she
never
had time to go car shopping. Most of the car dealers were so
far
away
she needed a car to go car shopping.
She’d
had
offers
of cars from friends,

like
Brooke
and Miguel,
but
nothing seemed to click. No
new
car could really replace the Z in her heart. It
was
fast,
it
was
fun, it
was
a semiclassic, and it held the road, at least when it
was
running and some mechanic
wasn’t
swimming to Japan for an
expensive
part.

“And
if I
didn’t
drive
you to the church,
you’d
find
a
way
to
wander
around
up
there
in
Shaw,
wouldn’t
you?”
Vic
inter
rupted her
reverie.
“That’s
still a dangerous neighborhood, you
know.”

“It’s
getting
safer.”

“Ha. I’m
up.”
He leaped out of bed. “This
way
I get to
keep
an
eye
on
your
exploits.”
She
would
have
answered
him,
but
he
kissed her instead.

“I’ve
got to get a
car,”
she said.

“No need,
Your
Ladyship. I
live
to
drive
Your
Ladyship. The Jeep
awaits
Your
Ladyship’s
pleasure. As does your humble ser
vant,
Your
Ladyship.”

“Smart aleck. When you put it that
way,
how
can
Your
La dyship refuse?”

Half an hour later the Jeep pulled up in front of the little church
overseen
by
Pastor
Wilbur
Dean, the Shiloh Mount Zion United Church and House of Prayer for All People.

“The name is bigger than the
church,”
Vic
commented. The church
was
off
Rhode Island
Avenue
near the U Street
corridor,
an
area
that
had
experienced
a
major
turnaround
in
the
last
decade.
The
Shaw
neighborhood
was
now
part
shabby,
part
gentrified,
sometimes
a
block
of
one
next
to
a
block
of
the
other.
The contrast
was
striking.

But
the
block
that
harbored
the
tiny
Shiloh
Mount
Zion
Church
was
still
several
years
away
from
gentility.
Vic
drove
by
slowly,
looking for a place to park, a challenge in
every
neigh borhood in the District,
giving
Lacey
a chance to look at the front of the church, a small
but
pretty stone and brick
building
that had started out Episcopalian
but
was
now
a
tiny
nondenom
inational
church.
Next
to
the
church
in
a vacant
lot
stood
a
weatherbeaten
wooden
stable. A small knot of people stood
viewing
it in the cold.

Vic
drove
past in search of an
elusive
parking space.
He
spotted one a block
away
and
Lacey
spotted something out of place in the neighborhood, as out of place as a diamond ring in

a box of rocks. A classic 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz in a shocking shade of flamingo pink
was
parked
right across the
street,
taking
up
nearly
two
spaces.
It
was
a
bold
thing
of
beauty.
Lacey
had
seen
a few
other
ancient
Caddies
in
the
neighborhood, some
lovingly
preserved,
others held together with duct tape, rust, and Bondo. But this Caddy
would
be a
showstopper
anywhere.
It
was
drawing
its
own
crowd
of admir ers, six or
seven
men, hands in their pockets, grins on
their
faces.

“What on earth is your mother doing in this neighborhood? Detour from the McLean Country Club? That is her
car,
isn’t
it? There
can’t
be
two
of
those.”

“I
have
no
idea
what
she’s
doing
here.”
Vic
rolled
his
eyes.
“This
is
all
we
need.”
Vic
and
Lacey
joined
the
little
crowd
of
Caddy
fanciers
and
peered
discreetly
into
the
pinkandwhite
twotone
leather
interior.
It
was
Clubbed
and
the
security
sys
tem
was
blinking
ON
.

Lacey
touched
his
arm,
indicating
the
church
down
the
street. “Shall we?”

“The Church of the Little Shepherd? I can hardly
wait,”
he said.

The church
was
locked.
No one answered when
they
rang
the
bell
and
pounded
on
the
door.
They
walked
around
the
building.
It
was
too small to
have
a rectory or a residence in side.
Lacey
thought it
looked
almost too small to
have
pews.
She and
Vic
proceeded to the empty lot
next
to the little church, where the
wooden
stable stood.