it was coming down inside the walls.”
“Apparently.”
He nodded. “I’ll have to go up on the roof and see if I can find out what’s keeping the snow from sliding off.
You’d think with that steep a pitch it wouldn’t be a problem. I’ll also want to get up under the eaves to try to see where the heat is escaping that’s causing the ice to form. Can you leave the church open for a while?”
“Sure. Just let me know when you’re done so I can lock it up again. I’ll only open the side door, if that’s okay.”
He gave her a smile. “I only need one door.”
Jazz had run off most of her energy and had squatted at four or five different points along the way, so Anna figured the puppy was ready to return to the cage for a nap. She unlocked the church’s side door for Hugh, then hurried back to her office.
She loved this time of year, she found herself thinking as she and the puppy trotted along. The breeze was crisp, carrying a hint of the winter to come, and the light had a buttery color to it, the last golden glow of autumn. Any day now the snow would march down off the white-capped peaks to the west and sprinkle itself all over Conard City like powdered sugar.
Inside the office, she put Jazz in her cage, then hunted up a bowl and put some water in with the dog. The puppy lapped thirstily, then curled up into a little ball of fur and fell right to sleep.
Well, that wasn’t too difficult, Anna thought as she settled back at her desk. She’d managed not to babble like a fool to Hugh Gallagher, she’d walked the dog successfully, remembered to give it a drink…hey, she was getting competent.
Chuckling at her own silliness, she reached for the next letter she needed to type, only to be interrupted by the phone.
“Anna, it’s Dan. I’m going to be at the hospital a while. Candy had a bad reaction to the anesthetic, and we don’t know what’s going to happen. Say a prayer for her, will you? I don’t know at this point if I’ll be back to the office at all.”
“I’ll cancel your appointments.”
“Thanks. Go ahead and take your lunch whenever you want. And close up early if you feel like it. You need some rest, my child.”
Anna hung up the phone, wondering why she always felt like crying when Dan Fromberg got that gentle note in his voice and called her “my child.” He called a lot of people “my child” when they were laid low by life and were calling on him in his ministerial capacity. Still, it affected her.
The phone rang again, just as she was getting ready to call and cancel the first appointment. This time it was Sheriff Nate Tate.
“Hi, sweet pea,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice. For some reason he always called her sweet pea. “Is the boss around?”
“He’s at the hospital and probably won’t be back in again today.”
“Somebody get hurt?”
“A bad reaction to anesthesia.”
“Not good.” But he knew better than to ask who was involved. “Well, I got a leetle bit of a problem here. Maybe you can help.”
“Me?”
He chuckled warmly. “Yes, you, sweet pea. Everyone knows how well you get on with the kids in the youth group, and you’re the closest thing we have around here to a youth counselor.”
Anna felt a pleasant blush fill her cheeks. “Don’t exaggerate, Sheriff.”
“I’m not. Do you think you can come over here to the office? I’ve got me a little gal you know in a cell who shouldn’t be in the cell. I really need somebody to talk to her and figure out what’s going on. I’ll tell you more when you get here.”
“I’ll be right over, but I have to make a couple of phone calls first.”
“It’s not that big a rush,” he assured her. “This little lady is going to be sitting here a while.”
It took Anna ten minutes to make the calls and reschedule the appointments for another day. Then she grabbed her jacket again, hesitating briefly about leaving Jazz alone. After a moment she decided that the puppy was as safe as could be in the cage. Outside, she found Hugh up on the ladder, looking at the church roof. “Mr. Gallagher?”
He looked down at her. “Hugh. Just call me Hugh. Or Cowboy.”
“Hugh.”
She repeated his name, feeling flattered that he’d asked her to use it. “I have to run up to the sheriff’s office. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“No problem. I’ll be a while here. Probably most of the afternoon. There’s a lot that needs to be checked out.”
“Well, if you need to leave, just make sure the church door is closed tightly. I’ll lock it when I get back.”
“You got it.”
The wind seemed to have gotten sharper, and some low clouds were moving in, concealing the sun. She hunkered deeper into her jacket and wished she’d worn slacks today.
The sheriff’s office was only a block away, in a corner storefront overlooking the courthouse square. She’d come here often in the past when the youth group took tours of the office and the courthouse, and she knew most of the people who worked here from church, but she still felt uncomfortable walking into a place that was populated mostly by men. She stepped inside and hovered by the door for a few moments until Velma Jansen, the dispatcher, noticed her.
“Anna! Come on in. Sheriff’s down the hall, first door on the left. He’s expecting you.”
Tate waved her in when she reached his office. He was a big man in his early fifties, with a rugged, permanently sunburned face.
“Come in, sweet pea,” he said. “Close the door and grab a seat.”
Closing the door proved difficult for her. Even after all this time, she couldn’t be comfortable in a closed room with a man. But beside Nate’s desk there was a window that overlooked the square, and the sight of people walking by eased her feeling of claustrophobia. She managed to take the chair facing him and folded her hands on her lap.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“That’s what I’m hoping you can find out. Lorna Lacey. You know her?”
Anna nodded. “She’s in the youth group. A dear, sweet girl.”
“Right. That’s what everyone says. In fact, when I checked her school record, I found out she’s never been in any kind of trouble.”
“I’d be surprised if it said anything different. She’s a natural peacemaker. Active, outgoing, popular—I’d say she’s what every girl her age would like to be.”
“Mmm.” Nate rubbed his chin and swiveled his chair so he could look out the window. “Well, something’s wrong. This dear, sweet girl set a fire
