Connor told her about his time with Lyle and Sarah Hamilton. Liz was impressed with the passion in his voice.

  “I never thought I’d go to lunch and listen to a man talk about how excited he is about praying,” she said. “Why didn’t you share this additional information about the couple?”

  “I didn’t mention Sarah’s name because she just received the diagnosis, and they’ve not told anyone about it.”

  “That makes sense.” Liz took a deep breath. “Did this make you think about your mother?”

  Connor stared at her for a second. “Yes. But I couldn’t talk about her either. It’s still too painful.”

  The food arrived. The lamb was perfectly cooked and seasoned. Liz especially liked the couscous.

  “Maybe you should focus some of your newfound prayer energy toward Elena,” Liz said. “She’s not doing well.”

  “I’m meeting with her on Tuesday.”

  “Be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At times, I believe she’s mentally unstable. Not incompetent. Just irrational and off track in her thoughts.”

  “One thing I’m strongly encouraging her to do is seek professional help from a psychiatrist or psychologist.”

  “I hope she takes your advice.”

  * * *

  Driving home from the restaurant, Connor thought about Liz. He really liked her honesty. And she was attractive.

  Before going inside the house, he checked his backyard garden. In the summer, he raised heirloom tomatoes, squash, okra, and bush beans in raised beds. When the weather turned cooler, he tried to nurse a few asparagus plants from the soil. They wouldn’t grow in Georgia clay, but Connor had brought in rich composted dirt, and his asparagus experiment looked promising. It would be fun to invite Liz over for a dinner that included venison and asparagus he’d harvested.

  His phone vibrated. It was a text from Reg Bullock:

  Available? Need to talk.

  Walking across the yard toward his house, Connor made the call.

  “Sorry to bother you on Sunday afternoon,” Reg said. “But I thought you should know about a conversation I had with Andy McNamara. The GBI agents were wrapping up yesterday at Burnt Pine Tree and held a meeting with Detective Norman and some other officers from the sheriff’s department. Andy took some bottles of water into the conference room and heard one of the GBI agents mention your name as a ‘person of interest’ in the investigation.”

  Connor stopped in his tracks. “Why? Because of the video I took?”

  “Maybe, but the GBI agent and Norman continued to discuss you as Andy left the room.”

  “What did they say?”

  “I hate to say this, but they suspect there might be an improper relationship between you and Elena Thompson.”

  “That’s ridiculous! I was trying to help save her marriage to her husband!”

  “I know.”

  “Did Andy hear anything specific?”

  “Only that they had to follow up with all sources.”

  “Sources? Who?”

  “I’m not sure. Bryson is small enough that any gossip ends up in the open.”

  “I can’t stamp out what didn’t happen,” Connor said with frustration.

  “I hated bringing this up but thought you’d want to know.”

  “I do,” Connor sighed. “Now if the police want to talk to me about Elena, I won’t be surprised.”

  The call from Reg wrecked Connor’s good mood. He considered calling Liz to ask her advice about the investigation but didn’t want to bother her. If his interaction with her went beyond her attendance at the church, he didn’t want it to include anything negative.

  * * *

  Tuesday morning before Elena’s appointment, Connor asked Michelle to come into his office and close the door.

  “Am I in trouble?” she asked.

  “No, and what I’m about to tell you is totally confidential. Agreed?”

  “I treat everything around here as confidential unless you tell me otherwise. Duke thinks all I do at work is play games on my phone.”

  “Keep it that way.”

  Connor told her what he’d learned from Reg Bullock. Michelle’s face reddened.

  “That’s wrong!” she exclaimed. “The Bible talks about going the extra mile. You’ve gone ten extra miles with Elena Thompson! I’d like to talk to Detective Norman and whoever else is spewing this nonsense at the GBI. I’ll straighten them out!”

  Connor had never seen this fiery side of his assistant. “That’s not what I’m asking you to do. But there’s a possibility the police may contact you. You can tell them Elena and Matt came to see me individually and together.”

  “And that your door is cracked open when you meet alone with any woman, and I’m always sitting here less than ten feet away.”

  “Yes.”

  Michelle continued to fume. “Because you’re single, there is always going to be speculation about you. Elena crossed the line, but I’ve never heard anyone in the congregation accuse you of being improper toward her or anyone else.”

  “Any gossip in the community?”

  “Not that I’ve heard,” Michelle said in a more relaxed voice. “But recently, there’s been speculation about you and Liz Acosta. That’s not a problem. She’s single and fair game.”

  Connor leaned back in his chair. “What do you think about Liz?”

  “I don’t have an opinion, but Bev Devon says she’s a great tenant.” Michelle paused. “What do you think about her? That’s the important question.”

  “I like her,” Connor said. “And that’s confidential.”

  * * *

  Elena was late for her appointment. When she arrived, Connor ushered her into his office and left the door cracked open wider than usual.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Elena said. “Tracy was finally leaving to go home, and I wanted to see her off. She stayed longer than planned.”

  “I’m sure she’s been a big support.”

  “Not really.” Elena shrugged. “She’s hoping I’ll share some of the inheritance money with her. Tracy’s husband has always had trouble finding and keeping a good job. Matt and I loaned them money several times over the past few years.”

  “Do you think you should help her out?”

  “Only with an interest-bearing loan. That’s the way we handled it before. I want to keep family and finances separate.”

  Connor shifted in his chair. “Would you be interested in what the Bible might say about that situation?” he asked.

  “Not really. I’m not here to talk about Tracy.”

  Connor waited. Elena looked past him at the windows offering a view of the mountains.

  “Are you still taking hikes?” Elena asked. “You talk about it a lot in your sermons.”

  “Yes, I like being alone in the woods. It’s one of my favorite places to think. And pray.”

  “I can’t stay cooped up in the house all the time with my grief. I think getting outside would be good for me. When are you planning another hike? I’d like to join you.”

  “Nothing on my calendar right now.”

  “Let me know.”

  “My next hike is going to be with Liz Acosta,” Connor blurted out.

  A cloud seemed to pass over Elena’s face. “Have you checked Liz’s social media accounts? Someone told me she has a longtime boyfriend who lives in Florida. He comes up to see her all the time.”

  “No, that hasn’t come up.”

  “Glad I warned you.”

  Wanting to end that part of the conversation, Connor passed a sheet of paper across the desk to Elena.

  “This is for you,” he said. “It’s a list of resources that may help you deal with grief. I know you like to read as well as listen to podcasts, so there’s a mix of information. I also researched professional counselors and suggest you find one with expertise in helping people in your situation. Unfortunately, there isn’t anyone in the immediate area, but more and more people are offering remote office visits. You’re great about following up on suggestions, and I believe that would work fine for you.”

  Elena frowned as she took the sheet from him. “What’s your role going to be in helping me?” she asked. “I feel like you’re trying to dump me.”

  Connor winced. “I’m your pastor. And part of my job is to help you find the best help available. That’s why I’m suggesting professional counseling. I’m still willing to meet with you here at the church on a regular basis to talk about the struggles you face. And pray with you.”

  “I’m a woman. Not a bundle of problems.”

  “I don’t see you as a bundle of problems. You’re going through incredible trauma. I want to be there for you in every way I can.”

  “That sounds better,” Elena sighed. “I miss Matt. He had his flaws, but I believe he really loved me.”

  “He told me he loved you.”

  “When did he say that? Was I out of the room?”

  “We met a few times one-on-one.”

  Elena raised her eyebrows. “More than once? I only know about the day Matt stayed after I left.”

  “It’s often part of the marital counseling process,” Connor quickly replied. “Remember, I met one-on-one with you as well. I used the opportunity to support your marriage to Matt. He and I ended up having some great conversations about life. That’s what I was referring to at the funeral.”

  “Okay,” Elena said. “Matt did bring that up. I wasn’t sure about the circumstances. He said he’d listened to a podcast that changed his outlook on what was important but didn’t give a lot of details. Matt was always a bottom-line guy.”

  Connor told her the story of the wrong podcast, and the impact the message had on Matt’s thinking.

  “That’s what I’d been telling Matt for years,” Elena jumped in. “His work was always number one, leaving me in a fight for number two with Anne and his kids.”

  “The message flipped Matt’s outlook about a lot of things, including you.” Connor could tell Elena was skeptical. “Oh, and Reg Bullock says Matt mentioned some of the same things to the group from his company after dinner on Friday night at Burnt Pine Tree. I think Matt was serious.”

  “He did?” Elena asked in surprise. “Do you know if they recorded the talk?”

  “You’d have to ask Reg.”

  “Did you record the conversations when you talked with Matt, just the two of you?”

  “No, I’ve never recorded any of our conversations.”

  “I have. It’s helped me remember what was said.”

  “Are you recording this conversation?” Connor asked in surprise.

  “Yes,” Elena said and tapped her purse, which she’d placed on Connor’s desk. “It helps me to listen multiple times to what you say.”

  Connor’s mouth dropped open. “Will you tell me before you do it again?”

  “Sure. Anyway, I’m glad you think Matt’s mind was in a good place when he died.”

  “I believe it was.”

  The session continued for another hour, mostly focused on Elena’s concerns about how she was going to be treated by Matt’s company and whether she was going to end up in a legal fight with Anne. It was a conversation more suited to Liz’s office than his. As they reached the end, Connor knew he ought to pray with Elena, but at that point he didn’t want to prolong the meeting. He ushered her out of his office, then stayed behind at Michelle’s desk but said nothing until he heard the bell chime, signaling the exit door had been opened.

  “How did it go?” Michelle asked.

  “Did you hear anything?”

  “No, I don’t eavesdrop.”

  Connor paused. “It’s hard to know if I’m doing any good or not. But for now, it’s unreasonable to expect Elena to do much except grieve.”

  “She doesn’t look very grief-stricken to me.”

  Connor returned to his office. He logged on to social media and checked Liz Acosta’s relationship status. There were photos of her with a boyfriend taken three months earlier. Connor stared at Raphael’s face. He didn’t look trustworthy. He returned to Michelle’s desk and told her what he’d found.

  “Oh, that relationship ended,” the assistant immediately responded.

  “How do you know?”

  “Becky Carrington told me. She works at the same law firm as Liz.”

  “Why were you talking to Becky about Liz?”

  Michelle hesitated. “Maybe what I said earlier—that there wasn’t any gossip about your social life—isn’t quite true.”

  Chapter 19

  Liz met with Harold about Elena’s upcoming appointment with Detective Norman.

  “Should I have her invoke her Fifth Amendment right not to incriminate herself?” she asked.

  Harold raised his eyebrows. “Is there any suspicion in your mind that Elena Thompson is responsible for her husband’s death?”

  “I don’t have any reason to believe she had anything to do it.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “No, and if I did, I can only imagine how she would react. She’d get really upset and fire me.”

  Harold leaned back in his chair. “You’ve got to let her know that Norman may ask her insinuating questions. Getting mad at him isn’t an answer. A simple ‘No’ should be her starting and ending point.”

  “Right.”

  “Make sure she doesn’t answer any compound questions containing facts that may not be true or questions that assume facts adverse to her as part of their foundation.”

  Liz recalled her own error in asking the detective a compound question.

  Harold checked his watch. “Gotta go,” he said. “I’m out of town tomorrow, but I’ll be here early in the morning on the following day if you think of anything else.”

  Liz stayed late to research the types of questions Elena shouldn’t answer. It was a frustrating exercise. When she read examples of objectionable questions, Liz could see the problem but struggled to come up with similar questions herself. Developing her ability to create them was linked to her ability to spot them. She left the office hoping the local detective was a lot less capable than some of the experts who wrote the articles.

  Instead of going home, she drove to the taqueria on Kenilworth Avenue. Manuel was at his usual place on a stool beside the cash register.

  “Hola!” he said. “It’s late for supper in America.”

  “And I didn’t get to take a siesta this afternoon. I’m hungry.”

  “What would you like?”

  “Antojitos,” Liz replied, using the common term for Mexican street food, which meant “little cravings.” “You know what’s best in the kitchen this evening. Surprise me.”

  Manuel jumped off his stool and stuck his head into the kitchen. Liz couldn’t hear what he said.

  “Are you working too hard?” Manuel asked when he returned.

  “Are you working too hard?”

  “Only if you call sitting here and talking to people work,” Manuel replied with a smile. “I have a new partner who’s bought a piece of the restaurant. He’s already taken over the kitchen, leaving me to greet customers and count the money.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Raul Vasquez. He used to work at the fancy hunting property a few miles out of town. He was in charge of smoking all their meats.”

  “Burnt Pine Tree Lodge?”

  “Yes, that’s it. What an odd name for a place. Who would want to go there? Pine trees aren’t good for much. And a burnt one even less. Anyway, he’s been saving his money, and I agreed to sell him an interest in the restaurant. I’m getting too old to be here all the time.”

  “Congratulations. I hope he’s not going to change the tamale recipes.”

  “Oh, the menu is going to get better. Raul is a real chef.”

  Liz paused for a moment. “Was he working at Burnt Pine Tree when one of the guests recently died in a hunting accident?”

  “I don’t know. You can ask him when he brings out your food.”

  While she waited, Liz talked to Manuel about his family. He had a new granddaughter and showed her a photo on his phone of a tiny infant with a pink bow stuck to the top of her head. A few minutes later, a short, stocky man in his forties with black hair and wearing a white apron came out of the kitchen carrying a plate. Manuel introduced him to Liz.

  “I made you elote cut from the cob and carnitas pambazos,” Raul said.

  Elote was a corn dish and pambazos were small tortas. On a separate plate the chef had laid out some coconut bars colored with three bands of green, white, and red.

  “And some cocada for dessert,” he said.

  “Looks great,” Liz said. “Manuel says you used to work at the Burnt Pine Tree Lodge.”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you there the day the guest died in a hunting accident?”

  “I was,” Raul said with a sad shake of his head. “He and some other men came into the kitchen that morning, and I fixed them sausage biscuits. The man who died gave me a big tip. I don’t think he was very interested in hunting.”

  “He didn’t want to hunt?”

  “No, he told the other men he wasn’t feeling good. Later that morning, I found out that he’d been shot. An ambulance took him to the hospital. Then I heard he died. It made me really sad. I mean, if he hadn’t gone hunting, he would still be alive.”

  * * *

  Tuesday afternoon, Connor was working on his sermon when Michelle knocked on the door of his office.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I know you told me to hold your calls, but the phones have been blowing up for the past half an hour.”

  “Why?”

  “The article in the newspaper this afternoon about Matt Thompson’s death.”

  The Etowah Gazette was an afternoon paper that came out three times a week. The church was the last stop on the delivery person’s route. The newspaper was so old-fashioned that it didn’t offer an online subscription.

  “What does it say?”

  “A reporter claims there’s a full-blown investigation by the sheriff’s department and GBI into the cause of Matt’s death. Your name was mentioned in the article. According to an anonymous source, you were questioned by a detective at Burnt Pine Tree Lodge about what happened. Is that true?”