Page 75 of Hidden Hero

“Goddammit,” Pete growled. “I know Buford Grissley has something to do with what’s happening.”

Jeremy tapped his pen on the desk, then jerked his head up to spear his partner with a hard stare. “What was it his wife said? Buford had an elder in the church who helped him count the money.”

Pete’s brows lifted as he nodded. “You’re right, she did. We need to find out who that elder is. Maybe he can key us into any suspicions.”

“And why was he someone elderly? Why not someone in the congregation who’s a bookkeeper, accountant, or just someone younger?”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth digging into. We need to talk to Mrs. Grissley again when he’s not around.”

“We’ll drive by the church and see if his vehicle is there,” Jeremy said, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.

The drive to the church was quiet, the kind of silence between partners that spoke of shared focus. Jeremy parked in the same spot they had used before, his eyes scanning the lot. Only one vehicle, a modest and slightly battered sedan, sat in the gravel parking lot. It was the same one there when they’d talked to her before.

Jeremy knocked, and a moment later, the door opened, and Donna Grissley appeared. Her eyes widened in surprise before her face settled into a smile.

“Detective Pickett. Detective Bolton,” she greeted, her tone friendly but cautious. “How nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Mrs. Grissley,” Jeremy said, flashing a warm, disarming smile as he turned on the charm. “We realized we forgot to ask you something when we talked last and hoped you might help us clarify a few things.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across her face as she clasped her hands together. “Oh, well, I’ll certainly do my best.”

Jeremy’s tone softened, adopting an easy conversational rhythm. “We understand how important it is for churches to ensure that all donations are accounted for properly. And, of course, you mentioned that Pastor Grissley is meticulous about such things.”

Donna’s curls bounced as she nodded emphatically, a touch of pride in her expression. “Oh yes, Buford is very conscientious about the church’s finances. He says it’s a gift from God and should be treated that way.”

Jeremy tilted his head, expressing casual interest, though his words were carefully chosen. “We’re interested in talking to any of the elderly in your congregation. Could you remind us of the name of the gentleman who helps your husband with the church finances? He might have some insight.”

Donna hesitated and pressed her lips into a thin line as her hands wrung together. Jeremy noticed the flicker of pain in her grimace. She loosened her hands from their clench to wrap her arms around her middle as her shoulders slumped. “Oh, my… oh, dear.”

Pete stepped in, his voice firm. “We’d really appreciate your help, Mrs. Grissley. Anything you could tell us might go a long way toward protecting the congregation.”

Donna’s eyes returned to Jeremy, her expression still pained. “You won’t be able to talk to the man who helped Buford. He died just a little while back.” She scrunched her face. “It was so sad. He just dropped dead. Terrible, really terrible. But Buford says that God takes us when it’s time for us to go.”

Jeremy’s head jerked slightly. “Dropped dead?”

“Yes,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “He… he was such a kind soul… he and his family have come to the church for years.”

Jeremy looked at Pete, seeing the same curiosity he knew was on his face. “Okay, well, thank you, Mrs. Grissley. I don’t suppose anyone else might have assisted or filled in?”

She shook her head. “No. No one has stepped up to take the position. I think everyone has been grieving Mr. Parker since he passed.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Did you know that they are just planning his funeral? There was something about his body not being released yet from…” She lowered her voice to a whisper as she leaned closer. “From themorgue!” She shuddered. “Can you imagine? How horrible for Roy’s family!”

Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his composure. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How did he die?”

Donna replied softly, “I understand that he wasn’t feeling well, so his wife took him to the emergency room. And he just dropped dead right there! Buford was heartbroken. They were very close.”

Jeremy’s mind raced, trying to pull together the random threads of the clues, unable to tie them all together. Not wanting Buford to show up yet, he chewed on his bottom lip, desperately searching for another question to ask Donna. He gazed at Donna, and then his vision zeroed in on the table behind her. “Your flowers are beautiful, Mrs. Grissley. I’m sure that’s another one of your duties, right? Arranging the flowers.”

She straightened and preened as a timid smile crossed her face. “Oh, they are lovely, aren’t they?”

“Where do you get such beautiful bouquets? A local florist?”

“Oh, no, detective. I do all the arranging myself. With money so tight, we can’t afford fancy store-bought bouquets. But some of the sweet ladies will bring in flowers from their gardens or greenery at the holidays, and I do what I can to make the arrangement pretty.”

“Those tall flowers in the back—the purple and pink ones. Are those foxglove?”

She gasped as her eyes widened. “You know your flowers! And yes… that’s foxglove. We have some in our little garden at home.” She looked behind her, then added, “Buford brought those to me for the vase. He said they came from the Parker house since we hope to have the funeral within the next couple of days.”

Jeremy and Pete exchanged glances, silent communication passing between them. But his mind filled with the connection now between Buford and Mr. Parker’s death… and how Cora was right in the middle.

---