At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon

Author:Jan Karon [Karon, Jan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2008-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Absalom, My Son

When he arrived at church the following Sunday, he found his missing Bible lying open on the pulpit. He was flooded with relief, as if a picture hanging crooked on the wall had been set nearly straight again.

Rodney Underwood called on Monday afternoon.

“I’ve just read an in’erestin’ article, says a ring of English antique dealers has been shippin’ jewels over here in holler table legs and secret desk drawers. Says, ah, let’s see, says three English dealers are currently under suspicion of shippin’ rare stolen gems and antique jewelry in furniture transported by ship in sealed containers. So far, authorities have not been able to seize a shipment, as those destined recently for America were diverted to other, unknown ports.

“You don’t reckon your jewels could have anything to do with this, do you?”

Please don’t call them my jewels! he thought. “I don’t think so. Fact is, I just searched the church, thinking that . . . well, in any case, I didn’t find anything. Nothing but a lone candy wrapper, to tell the truth.”

“Candy wrapper? What kind of candy wrapper?”

“Almond Joy.”

“Where’d you find it?”

“In the loft. It was absolutely the only thing up there, as we never use that space at all.”

“What would it be doin’ up there?”

“I haven’t the vaguest idea.” He felt a creeping alarm that Rodney might deploy fingerprinting crews over the entire church grounds, on account of a harmless candy wrapper.

“You better let me look at that wrapper,” Rodney said.

“If you want to run by the house and ask Puny to look in my brown pants pocket, I think that’s where I put it.”

“I’ll send over a cruise car,” said Rodney, seemingly pleased with this turn of events.

The police chief called back in an hour. “You sure you searched th’ church good? Did you look in behind things?”

“I went over it with a fine-tooth comb. Of course, I didn’t pry up any floorboards or look behind the bookcases.”

“We got th’ wrapper, and th’ candy on it’s still fresh. You say nobody ever goes in th’ attic?”

“Nobody.”

“Well, th’ wrapper’s covered with prints. But since you handled it, we’ll have to come and take a set of your prints to see what’s what and who’s who.”

Here we go, he thought.

“Nobody’s prints but yours,” said Rodney, when he called the rectory in the evening. “But I’ll tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked, sitting down on his study sofa with the cordless phone.

“No other fingerprints means that whoever ate that Almond Joy was wearin’ gloves. Y’see what I mean?” he asked the rector, who clearly didn’t. “Anybody wearin’ gloves to eat a candy bar is up t’ no good.”

“Aha.”

“What I’m sayin’ is, I believe I better come down there tomorrow with th’ boys and go over th’ place.”

Well, and why not? Perhaps the whole thing could be laid to rest.

“Come ahead,” he said.

When he arrived at the office the next morning, the phone was ringing.

“Father!” said the caller, “Pete Jamison.”

“Pete Jamison?”

“You know, Father, the man you saved.

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