Duck the Halls(9)

“So we put a cover on the cage and they won’t spray us?” Chief Burke said.

“Probably won’t spray us,” Grandfather corrected. “I’d still keep my distance. The adolescents might be a little trigger-happy.”

Chief Burke nodded.

“I think I’ll call Randall Shiffley about this,” he said. And then, turning to Chief Featherstone he added, “Mayor Shiffley’s family owns both a construction company and a moving company. Between the two of them, they should be able to figure out how to get this confounded cage out of the choir loft.”

He turned back to Grandfather.

“So who, apart from zoologists, would know about how to handle a caged skunk safely?” he asked.

“Hmmm.” Grandfather looked thoughtful. “Animal control officers. Veterinarians, as long as they’ve worked at a zoo or wildlife shelter. Maybe hunters. Domestic skunk breeders. Maybe someone who works at a pest control company, one that includes wild animal relocation in its services.”

“Great,” I said. “We’re in a county full of hunters, where wild animals regularly stray into people’s yards and houses, near a college with a graduate zoology program, and just down the street from a small but world-famous private zoo. Isn’t there anything we can think of to narrow the chief’s pool of suspects?”

Everyone fell silent for a few moments. We were all frowning and thinking—except for Grandfather, who had returned to studying the skunks through his binoculars. Then Chief Featherstone spoke up.

“We saw no signs of a breakin,” he offered. “So it would have to be someone who knows something about skunks and has access to the church.”

Chief Burke frowned, no doubt because that meant the prankster was more than likely a fellow member of the New Life congregation.

“Not necessarily,” I said. “There were a lot of people at the choir rehearsal last night.”

“Weren’t they mostly family of choir members?” Chief Burke asked.

“Not entirely.” I shook my head. “I was there. Aida Butler was on patrol last night, so I brought her daughter to the rehearsal.”

“One of my deputies,” Chief Burke said to Chief Featherstone.

“And I saw Abe and Rivka Sass.” I was ticking off the non-Baptists in attendance on my fingers. “They’re taking off on a cruise tomorrow and won’t get to see tonight’s concert so I assume they got permission to come to the dress rehearsal. And they weren’t the only ones. There’s pretty much an open door for rehearsals.”

Chief Burke winced and nodded.

“What’s all this about a concert?” Chief Featherstone asked.

“Everyone wants to hear the New Life choir’s Christmas performance,” I said. “But most people also want to attend Christmas services at their own church, and on top of that on Christmas the New Life Church is full to overflowing with just the congregation. So they always give a concert on the last Saturday before Christmas. This year, it’s tonight.”

“You may have to reschedule the concert, then,” Chief Featherstone said. “’Cause there’s no way this church is going to be fit for human habitation by tonight.”

I winced. I didn’t look forward to breaking the news to Jamie and Josh if the concert were canceled.

A deputy popped in from the stairwell just behind us.

“Chief,” the deputy said. “Reverend Wilson’s downstairs. Wants to know what’s happening with his church.”

From the chief’s pained expression, I deduced that he did not relish breaking the bad news to his pastor.

“Want me to go along and help?” Chief Featherstone said.

“I appreciate the offer, but maybe I should be the one,” Chief Burke said.

With that we all trooped down the stairs. Even Grandfather, who looked preoccupied.





Chapter 5


When we exited the church we spotted Reverend Wilson’s small, stooped frame at the bottom of the building’s front steps. He looked every one of his eighty-some years, and the expression on his round dark face was one of profound anxiety—almost pain. Michael was standing just behind him, breathing apparatus pushed back on top of his head. He appeared to be hovering, as if worried about the elderly minister.

“How bad is it, Henry?” Reverend Wilson called out when we appeared in the doorway.

“Pretty bad, Ambrose,” Chief Burke said.

Chief Burke pushed back his mask and went down the steps and stood talking to Reverend Wilson in a low tone. Someone had turned on all the outside illumination, including all the strings of holiday lights, which twinkled with incongruous gaiety behind them.