“I will.” It gave me a feeling of confidence to know that Eric trusted me that way.

  “Oh, and he also said to tell you, ‘Don’t even think about playing Nancy Drew.’ ”

  I blinked. “Well, that was rude.”

  She grinned. “Yeah. He knows you.”

  I grimaced. “Guess so.”

  “There’s more,” she said. “He’d like you to make a list of every single person in the church this morning.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And he asked if we could look around for at least three separate areas they can use for interviewing the witnesses.”

  “Oh, good idea. Okay.” I thought of three right off the bat: the narthex, the central platform area, and maybe one of the pews at the back. I figured these first interviews would just be for gathering contact information, so they wouldn’t need a private room. If they did run across someone suspicious, they would take them over to the station and conduct a formal interview there.

  Chloe leaned in, trying to see over my shoulder. “So, what the hell happened, Shannon?”

  I tried to shield her, but she wasn’t having it, so I just sighed and moved out of the way. “I have no idea. But that’s Sarah Spindler, Madeline’s assistant. Obviously, she’s dead.”

  She stared at the body, then frowned at me. “Why does this keep happening to you?”

  I was shocked and angry, and I glared at her with so much intensity that I wondered why her head didn’t explode. “Seriously? How should I know?”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry. But you know what I mean.” She gave an apologetic shrug, then made it better by hugging me. “Really, I’m sorry.”

  It was easy to curb my temper, because it was mostly made up of fear and worry. “That’s okay. I’m kind of used to it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to be.”

  I shrugged off the comment and watched as she stared at the body for a few more seconds. And then her face turned ghostly pale. “Oh hell.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Sarah Spindler. I just realized I went to school with her. We were both on the volleyball team. She had a wicked spike.”

  “I vaguely remember her from high school, too, but I didn’t realize she was in your class.”

  “Yeah.” Chloe looked dazed.

  “Have you seen her since you moved back?”

  “No. I had no idea what happened to her.” She winced. “Well, now I know. Ugh.”

  I rubbed her shoulders in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Sis. Listen, I need to check on something before Lucy or Eric gets here. Could you go out there and see if my crew is okay? Let them know they can’t leave until the police get here and talk to each of them. I’ll join you all in, uh, just a minute.”

  “Okay, Nancy. Just don’t let Eric catch you.”

  “Ha ha,” I said dryly.

  Once Chloe was gone, I went back to examine what I’d noticed before she walked in here. There were marks on the floor around Sarah. It looked like someone had recently swept the floor with a wide broom or some kind of cloth, but they’d done a bad job, because the sweep marks looked as though most of the dust and dirt were still on the floor. Along with something else. On closer examination, I saw some minute smears of red.

  Red dust? Not likely. I squinted to focus my eyes and realized the tiny smears could be . . . blood? Sarah’s blood? How in the world had someone swept blood into the chapel, right where Sarah had ended up?

  Guiltily, I jumped up, knowing that Eric wouldn’t be happy to see me on my hands and knees studying Sarah’s body like this. Of course, he wouldn’t be here for a while, but Lucy might walk in at any moment. I wasn’t worried about one of my team walking in and finding me staring at blood particles on the floor. They were used to seeing me involved in murder investigations. Still, I didn’t want the whole world to know what I was doing.

  When Eric got here, I would show him all of the weird evidence I’d found. He wouldn’t be thrilled, but he would be glad I’d showed him. I hoped.

  And speaking of Eric again, I really needed to get out of here, but I hated to leave Sarah all alone. Sadly, there was nothing I could do for her now, except tell the police what I’d noticed. And maybe, eventually, it would help them find some justice for her.

  I walked out of the small chapel and closed the door, then stood in the hall and brushed the dust and dirt off my jeans. I shook my head and wondered again how Sarah had ended up in that tiny chapel. Staring down at the floor, I realized that thanks to all the dust that had accumulated there, I could see that something had been dragged down the middle of the hall, probably by a wide cloth of some kind. The marks were similar to those by Sarah’s body. Had someone dragged her down the hall and into the chapel? Why would anyone do that?

  But then, why would anyone kill her?

  I followed the drag marks down the very dusty hall. They led to the sacristy door. I didn’t go inside just then, but instead walked back to the Blue Iris Chapel. I had things to do before the police arrived.

  I wondered again if someone had actually dragged Sarah down the hall and into this room. Had they then crammed that piece of lace into the door to jam it shut? Had they believed they could hide Sarah’s body in this little chapel long enough to make it out of the church undetected?

  That was sick and twisted, for sure. And it made me wonder if they had actually been in the church when we all walked in. Had they panicked? I thought about it for a long moment, then asked myself, How did they get out of the church without us seeing them? I froze as the possibility arose that Sarah’s killer might still be hiding inside the church.

  I glanced around, then crept back inside the blue chapel and knelt down to check Sarah’s clothing. I had no intention of turning her body over, but I wanted to get a look at the back of her white tunic to see if it was dirty from being dragged down the hall.

  I carefully tugged on her shirt just enough to see that there was no dirt on it at all. So how could she have been dragged all this way? Did the killer wrap her in a tarp to get her here?

  That was just creepy, and I shivered at the thought, then forced myself to shake off my fears. I left the chapel and studied the drag marks out in the hall more closely. The thought of someone being so desperate that they would drag this lovely young woman around the church was hideous.

  But it was a darn good clue. I followed the drag marks back around to the door of the sacristy.

  On an earlier visit, Madeline had explained that the sacristy was where Reverend Patterson changed into his vestments and where he kept all the religious objects he used during mass. Others used the room as well, including the choir leader, altar boys, and several deacons. They all kept their ceremonial wardrobes in there, tucked inside the cabinets against the wall.

  In the past, I had only been able to take a quick look inside the room, because until very recently, Reverend Patterson and his wife had still been cleaning and packing things up. Boxes and wardrobe crates had been stacked wall to wall, and it was hard to see what the room actually looked like. The small section I’d been able to view, though, was amazing. One wall was completely covered, floor to ceiling, by a massive antique cabinet made of mahogany and inlaid with satinwood. The entire piece had been built into the wall and couldn’t be moved, much to Reverend Patterson’s dismay, I knew. Down the middle of the cabinet were sixteen long narrow drawers similar to map drawers. On either side of those were another thirty or so drawers, cubbies, cabinets, and cupboards of different sizes and shapes. It sounded overwhelming, and it truly was, in a good way. It was magnificent.

  The wall opposite the cabinet was half-lined in beautifully carved mahogany panels with stained glass windows above that afforded a view of the coastline and the blue ocean beyond.

  The panels were just one of the reasons why I had specifically asked Amanda to work on this project. Since she was an expert in all things made of wood, I knew she would be enamored by this room in particular. But then, the rich wood timbers and beams that filled the main sections of the church were probably just as enticing to her.

  Now I reached for the door of the sacristy and found it unlocked, so I took a chance and peeked inside. A few boxes still remained in the corner, but for the most part, the room was empty. And then I saw the drag marks. They continued halfway across the room, then stopped abruptly in front of the wall opposite the big cabinet, right under one of the stained glass windows.

  Was this where Sarah was killed?

  I took a close look around, stared down at the floor, and spotted blood.

  It wasn’t much blood, just one drop that had formed a tiny puddle right next to the wood-paneled wall. I could tell it had already coagulated, and I knew from past experience that blood tended to clot within two to three minutes. I shivered again. That was another grisly but useful bit of knowledge I’d picked up over the years. So, yes, this was most likely where Sarah met her demise.

  It wasn’t much to go on, but I already had a theory. It was a good one, and I couldn’t wait to run it by Eric.

  For now, though, I needed to check on my team to make sure they were doing okay. I wanted to let them know exactly what was going on, as if they didn’t already know that a murder had occurred. Still, they needed to be kept informed.

  Most of them had been working with me for years, so they knew how often I had stumbled upon a dead body or a skeleton on one of my construction sites. It was almost as if it came with the job—which was a terrible thought. It wasn’t like I asked for this kind of trouble. In fact, I really hated it.

  My heart was still beating a little too fast as I closed the door to the sacristy. I stood in the hall, and without another thought, I pulled out my cell phone and called Mac.

  When he answered, I whispered, “Mac.”

  “Shannon,” he said. “Are you at the church? How’s it going?”

  I took a deep breath, let it out, and realized I was shaking again. “How’s it going? It’s, um. Well, it’s going . . . oh, jeez, Mac. We found a body.”

  “What? Who? How? Hell, Shannon, what happened? Wait.”

  He stopped for a moment to take it all in and to give me a chance to breathe some more.

  “Shannon, do you want me to come over there?”

  I leaned against the stone wall. I hated to sound so wimpy, but I quickly said, “Yes, please.”

  And all he said was, “Give me twenty minutes.”

  He hung up. I closed my eyes and just breathed some more.

  Mac was another hero. I had a lot of them in my life.

  I thought about Sarah Spindler and knew that she hadn’t deserved to be killed. She was a sweet young woman with an art history degree who loved her job and enjoyed working with Madeline. She had friends, a great attitude, a cute boyfriend, and a nice family.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, and slapped my hand against the cold stone wall. There was no reason for this perfectly nice woman to be dead. So, what in the world had happened? Why had she been so brutally attacked? Had she arrived early to impress her boss and instead had surprised some maniac so badly that he had killed her?

  Some maniac? I shook my head and stared up at the ceiling. It hadn’t even occurred to me to ask myself, Who did this?

  I wasn’t going to get any answers just yet, so I quietly headed out to join my team in the main aisle of the church. But before I made it as far as the transept, another scream rang out. And it came from the direction of the Blue Iris Chapel.

  “Oh no!” I ran back down the hall to the chapel. An older woman stood at the open door, one hand on the doorknob and the other covering her mouth. She began to murmur, “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  She was beautiful, probably around sixty years old. She didn’t appear frail, just truly frightened. She wore comfortable blue jeans, a UCLA sweatshirt, and sturdy tennis shoes. And she wore a round piece of white lace held to her head with a bobby pin. The lace was very similar, if not identical, to the piece I’d found stuffed in the door earlier.

  Her skin was smooth and pale, a classic peaches-and-cream complexion. Her eyes were bright and blue and she wore her blond hair in a short, wavy bob.

  “Ma’am?” I said, slowing down my approach so as not to startle her.

  “Oh!” She blinked. “Oh dear. Hello. Did you know there’s a woman lying on the floor?”

  “Yes, the police have been called.”

  “So she’s dead.” She nodded. “I thought so.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?” I carefully pulled her hand away from the doorknob and slowly closed the door.

  That’s when I noticed the shards of green glass scattered on the stone floor by her feet. I could still see the sweeping marks, but now I was worried that they might be obscured by this woman’s shoes and the scattered pieces of glass.

  “Did you drop something?” I asked.

  “Oh gosh,” she said. “Yes, I dropped a vase. It broke.”

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  “I should get a broom and clean up this mess.”

  “No. The police wouldn’t want you to do that.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Right. Evidence might be erased.”

  Yikes, she sounded just like me. Another Law & Order crime scene junkie?

  “Shall we go sit down so you can catch your breath?”

  “I’d better do that.” She patted her chest. “I’ve really had quite a shock.”

  As I led her around the wall toward the row of pews facing the central platform, she asked, “Do you know who that woman was?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Her name is Sarah. She was the assistant to the new artistic director of the museum.”

  “Oh, mercy. That is tragic. How did it happen?”

  “We’re waiting for the police. They’ll investigate.”

  “Of course.” She pointed to the steps leading up to the central platform. “I can sit right here.” And she hunkered down on the first step.

  I sat down beside her, unsure whether she was recovered from the shock or not.

  “I’m Flora,” she said. “They call me the flower lady. That’s because I take care of the flowers here at the church. I make sure there are flowers on the altar for every occasion and make sure they’re fresh. You’d be surprised how many flowers we need every week. I do all the ordering and arranging and the cleaning up.”

  “That must keep you busy.”

  “Oh, it’s a full-time job, for sure,” she said. “Well, just today, I realized I’d left a few things over here when we moved. So that’s why I was looking for that green vase. I found it, then realized I’d better go through the small chapels in case I was missing anything else.” She shook her head. “That green vase was one of Mrs. Patterson’s favorites. I don’t relish telling her it’s broken.”

  “Will she be angry?”

  “Oh, no, she’s a lovely woman. But I feel bad. Although you can’t really blame me. I had the shock of my life seeing that woman on the floor.” She patted her chest again.

  “Aunt Flora? Are you all right?”

  I looked up and saw Buck standing in front of us, staring down at the woman.

  “Oh, Mickey, sweetie,” Flora said. “I didn’t realize you’d be here today.”

  “Yeah, Aunt Flora,” he explained softly. “Today’s the day we’re doing a walk-through with the crew, remember?”

  “Mickey?” I said, staring at him.

  He looked back and forth between his aunt and me, and grinned. “Everybody calls me Buck except my aunt. Aunt Flora, this is my boss, Shannon Hammer.”

  “Oh, now I thought you looked familiar,” she said, patting my knee. “I’ve known your father, Jack, for years.”

  “Really?” I looked at Buck. “I remember you saying you had relatives in the area, but I didn’t realize they’d be this close.”

  He shook his head in amazement. “It’s a small world.”

  “You can say that again.” I turned to look at his aunt. “So, you know my dad?”

  “Sure do,” she said. “Jack and I went to school together. I know your uncle Pete, too.”

  I could hear sirens in the distance and stood up. “I’ve got to go talk to the police. It was very nice to meet you, Flora.”

  “You too, Shannon. You’ll probably see me around, here and there. I’ve still got a few things to go through in the old sacristy, so I might be around for a few more weeks.”

  “It’ll be nice to see you,” I said, then leaned closer to Buck. “She found the body in the chapel, so she might need some comforting.”

  “Oh hell! Thanks for telling me, Shannon.”

  “And please don’t let her leave,” I added. “The police will want to talk to her. They’ll want to talk to all of us.”

  “Got it.” He sat down in my place and gave his aunt a one-armed hug.

  The police would be here soon, and that realization brought back the image of Sarah Spindler flashing through my mind. Twenty minutes had passed by too quickly. Or maybe I had been too wrapped up in protecting the evidence and had lost track of time.

  “Protecting the evidence?” I muttered. I was definitely pulling a Nancy Drew. Good grief. I really needed to stop finding dead bodies.

  * * *

  * * *

  Before I joined my team, I hurriedly jotted down the names of everyone here so Eric would have them when he arrived. At the last minute, I decided to include Flora the flower lady since she had walked into the Blue Iris Chapel and had probably left her fingerprints on the doorknob. Not only that, but her tennis shoes had invariably left their pattern in the dusty floor.

  I found Chloe sitting next to Madeline in the pew, and I slid in and sat next to my sister. We were both trying to console the artistic director when I heard the staccato sound of stiletto heels tip-tip-tapping on the marble floor. And they were coming our way.