Page 74 of Chosen Path
Basement of Saint Olaf’s Lutheran Church,
12:30 pm
Nikolas Lundgren would have liked his funeral service. For one thing, it was short. For another, the pastor who’d come over from Jarvisville to officiate had used words like ‘solid and dependable’ to describe the man he knew only in passing.
Greg found it fitting. Nikhadbeen solid and dependable, just like the wood furniture he’d crafted by hand. And also like his furniture, he’d held a secret—a hidden depth of resolve and conviction tucked away in a compartment that nobody, at least nobody on the council, had ever seen. Not until Nik revealed it in the fiery speech that had sealed his death.
“Hon, did you want to try one of Kimberly’s muffins?” Wendy tugged at his shirtsleeve.
He shook himself back to the present. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed.”
She cast a sidelong glance at his plate. The untouched lasagna, the chicken thigh, the tiny pile of olives, cornichons, and cheese cubes from the relish tray. Her eyebrows crawled toward her hairline.
“Really? It doesn’t look like you’ve eaten a bite.” She sighed. “What’s going on, Greg?”
“You said you didn’t want to be involved,” he reminded her gently.
She wrinkled her nose and pressed her lips together. Whatever she’d planned to say, she managed to repress it. Then her gaze shifted over his shoulder.
“Here comes your best friend,” she told him.
He noted the slight sharpness of her tone and knew she could only mean one person. He closed his eyes briefly.
“There you are,” Kimberly trilled from behind him.
He opened his eyes and turned his head.
“I was just telling Greg he should taste your muffins. They’re delicious,” Wendy said. “Sugary though, huh?”
Kimberly smiled, showing Wendy her teeth like a wolf. “I’m glad you’re enjoying them. Do you mind if I borrow your husband for a few minutes?”
“Of course not. Just return him in the same condition.”
They both laughed. Neither of them seemed particularly amused.
Might as well get this over with.Greg folded his napkin, placed it over his plate of uneaten food, and dropped a kiss on Wendy’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked with Kimberly across the drafty basement. Officer Perth intercepted them near the door.
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” His tone was casual, but Greg sensed that it wasn’t an idle question.
Kimberly cut her eyes toward Greg.You handle it.
Greg used his friendliest shopkeeper voice. “We just need to run next door for a bit and take care of some council business. We won’t be long. Make sure someone saves me a piece of that peach cobbler, would you, officer? Call it a public service.”
Perth laughed heartily, and Greg thought perhaps he’d overreacted. Maybe the police officer really was simply making conversation. Maybe all this cloak-and-dagger skulking around with Kimberly was making him paranoid.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I walk you over and open up the building for you? Call it a public service.” Perth smiled and started to walk alongside them.
Or maybe the two police officers really had been following Greg and Kimberly around. Maybe the police were suspicious of the council. Maybe Doctor Hart had been sharing her wild theories with law enforcement.
Greg expected Kimberly to protest, to inform the police officer that she had her own set of keys. But she said nothing.
“You folks picking the replacements for Nik and Corrine’s seats?” Perth asked as they climbed the stairs to the church’s main floor.
“Uh, soon,” Greg hedged.
“Not today?”
