Opera House Ops

Episode 4 – Eagle Scout

A Morelville Cozies Serial Mystery

Anne Hagan

To Mrs. Rotunno for words of praise that sparked a lifelong passion for writing

PUBLISHED BY:

Jug Run Press, USA

Copyright © 2016

https://annehaganauthor.com/

All rights reserved:  No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed or given away in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without prior written consent of the author or the publisher except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages for review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are actual places used in an entirely fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1 - Historic

Wednesday, September 9th

Morelville, Ohio

“Kara still wants to sell, Chloe. What are we going to do?”

“We?” Chloe tilted her head to one side and glanced at her friend quickly then concentrated back on the meat slicer as she thought about her friend’s plea. The turkey slices whizzed through the machine. Jesse liked them thin and he wasn’t opposed to sending Faye back with them if Chloe didn’t get them just right.

Marco called out from his usual spot on the bench, “What could we possibly do? Buy it from her?”

Chloe chuckled at the thought.

“I wish,” Faye said, nearly echoing her own feelings. “She wants far too much for it and it needs major roof work. That tarp she had put up there isn’t going to last through one of our winters.”

Chloe shut the machine down and transferred the pile of meat to a paper liner on the scale on top of the deli case. The readout displayed 1.06 lbs.

“You’re getting really good at judging that,” Faye said smiling, as she looked at the display from her side.

The other woman brushed the compliment off. A thought had come to mind. “Just how old is that building?”

“I think it went up in 1890 or ’91. It was one of the first buildings in the village. That and the old Baptist church that’s practically falling down now were the first ones to be raised according to the village history, aside from a few scattered houses the oil men built, that is.”

“That’s quite a combination,” Marco said, “a music hall and a church.”

“Well the men were probably of one mind and the women of another,” Chloe said. “I asked because if a building is at least 50 years old and it has some sort of historic or cultural significance to the area, we could apply to have it put on the National Register of Historic Places. We did that, a group of us, with an old home that the community wanted to preserve back in McKeesport.”

“Doesn’t the owner have to agree to that?” Marco asked.

“Well, yes; there’s that.”

“Well then,” Faye said, “she’ll never agree because then she can’t sell it at all.”

“On the contrary,” Chloe told her, “she can still sell it. She can do anything she wants with it but getting it on the register can make it far more valuable and it keeps it in the public eye. That could attract an entirely different sort of potential buyer for her.”

Faye thought for a few seconds and then said, “You might have something there. That might appeal to her and, if she could do that, she could probably get some kind of grant money to fix the roof besides.”

Chloe nodded and started to bag the turkey.

“What about the new owner though? What obligation do they have to preserve it?”

“Unfortunately, that’s the same kind of deal. They could do whatever they wanted with it too but they could potentially be paying a lot more for the privilege and take a lot more flak from everyone around here. I will say this though, if she agrees to it and she applies or we do it, it can take several months to go through. There’s got to be a public comment period and such. If she’s in a hurry to get it on the Register and potentially sell it for more money, it’s not going to work.”

“Not anymore,” Faye said as she shrugged. “She wants to sell and get it off her hands but she missed out on the show she wanted to fund. Someone swooped in and scooped up the last producers slot. She’s just waiting for the next opportunity to come along.”

“How often do those pop up?” Marco asked.

“Darned if I know. Hopefully, not that often!”

###

“I’m glad you’ve decided to stick with us Cole,” Robert Hanson said to the teen. “I know Brian is excited about the idea of the two of you working on your Eagle projects together. Have you decided what you want to do?”

“That’s just it; I don’t know. I mean, I’ve read all the…some of the criteria, but I can’t come up with much that would benefit the community…er, Morelville.”

“It doesn’t have to be just Morelville; it could be anything that could be a community service project in the surrounding area. Or, you might consider doing something right here though that the church needs. Brian’s going to put in the memorial garden they’ve been talking about doing for years. You could do something else that’s in conjunction with that or that compliments that. Between us, I think Pastor Scott is getting a little creeped out by the urns of ashes on the book shelves in his office. They need a final resting place.”

Cole seemed shocked by the thought of that and he leaned back hard in his chair, away from Hanson, causing the front legs to rock up off the floor. He was so conscious of his grandfather’s voice in his head admonishing him for sitting with only the back legs touching that he quickly righted himself and overcorrected, pitching forward. He grabbed the Scoutmaster’s desk for support to keep from toppling to the floor.

Hanson jumped up from his chair behind the old wood style teacher’s desk. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Cole said.

“You didn’t know about the ashes?”

“No.” The boy visibly shuddered. “I was just in his office a couple of weeks ago…when you asked me to go and talk to him. That’s a little creepy.”

The scoutmaster hid a smirk. He was familiar with Cole’s fear of darkness, the annual community haunted house and anything else that seemed remotely eerie, real or imagined. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be crass. They’re the remains of people that had no means or no desire to be buried in the area, all past parishioners of the church. They’re certainly not a bother where they are but it’s Pastor Scott’s not entirely unfounded fear that there will be more urns as time goes on. The garden will be sorely needed.”

“What could I do that would go along with that? I can’t just help him, can I?”

“No, you have to do your own project. Give it some thought for a couple of days and you can look through this stuff.” Hanson handed him a folder with some paperwork in it. “The end of the fiscal year is coming. That’s the notes from the congregational meeting last week that includes the plans going forward, the church budget for the coming year and so forth. There are several places where funding won’t meet what they want to accomplish. Bet you could find something in there you could do with a tiny little bit of fund raising and a whole lot of ingenuity and elbow grease.”

Chapter 2 – Funding

Sunday, September 13th

Crane Family Farm

“Okay boy, let’s see what you got.” Jesse tapped the table in front of the chair adjacent to his.

Cole took a seat and offered the folder to his grandfather.

“Open it up and get the stuff out here,” the old man commanded. “Have you even looked at it?”

The boy nodded. “I read those notes from the meeting. I couldn’t figure nothin’ out from them.”

“Anything,” Faye corrected him from her position at the sink where she was wiping the dinner dishes.

Cole wrinkled his nose and looked at Jesse but his grandfather was already rifling through the pages as he flipped them onto the table for him. He watched as he laid the budget numbers off to one side and perused only the meeting notes.

“Ya’ll talked about all of this at the congregational meeting, Faye?” he asked after a few minutes.

She glanced away from her task toward the papers he held up. “Yes and that’s likely the very condensed version, knowing Doris. She’s not one to want to take extensive notes for very long.”

“Boy, am I glad I skipped the meeting,” Jesse whispered to Cole, under his breath.

“I heard that,” Faye informed him.

He waved her off. “There’s lots of stuff here,” he said to his grandson instead. “Reseal the parking lot?”

Cole shook his head no.

“Break up and re-lay the front sidewalk?”

Again, he shook his head.

“Those are both reasonable projects that will be of service to the church and save them money on labor and materials, son.”

“That sidewalk,” Faye added, “is a safety hazard. Most of the older folks come in the side door rather than through the front doors to avoid it. That’s just not right.”

“Those aren’t going to work, Papa.”

“They’re service projects and very much needed. You’d have to round up labor to assist you and lead them. That meets the requirements, as I recall them.”

“The Scoutmaster says it has to be ‘special’, not routine labor. The only thing on there that would be ‘special’ is that Memorial Garden. Brian’s doing that and I really didn’t want to do that anyway.”

“What do you want to do then, boy?”

“I dunno…don’t know; sorry Grandma. Maybe something with my hands, like build something. Remember when we rebuilt the crèche for the Christmas display? Maybe I could do something like that.”

Jesse rubbed the days’ growth of stubble on his chin. “Can’t be that. That one will last a long time.” He picked up the budget and glanced at it. “Why’d he give you this?”

Cole shrugged. “He said Ms. Procter gave him that too. It’s the money they need for the year.”

“The cost for resealing the parking lot should be on that Jesse. We voted on finally doing that at the last board meeting.”

“You actually have the money for it?”

“We will. The board has been earmarking a small piece of each weeks’ collection for it. They need to get on it and do it before November though. When I do count up this coming week after the service, I’m going to remind old Kent at the board meeting the week after that we need to make up any difference and get it scheduled.”

“I’m sure glad I’m not involved in all these committees and the board and such. Too many hands in the pot for me. I say, just do what needs doing. We buy six or eight cans of tar, a few spreaders and Cole and a couple of boys go to work. Done!”

“That wouldn’t have worked for my project anyway,” Cole said. “It’s not special and it has to be approved by the Scoutmaster, Council and the Region. That’ll take months.”

Jesse sighed. “Guess we best keep looking then.” He scanned the budget to see if anymore actual projects were listed. “Says here,” he said, “expected expenses are $141,000, give or take for the year and expected revenue is $129,000. How do they plan to make up that shortfall, Faye?”

“Hmm?” she said. “Give me those numbers again.”

Jesse read them off.

“Let me see that.” She wiped her hands on a towel, walked over to the table and took the papers from his outstretched hand.

After scanning through it herself, she said, “There must be some mistake.”

“Higher or lower?” Jesse questioned.

“On the income. It’s always based on the previous year, exactly. We always hope to take in more in weekly offering and other donations and never less. This is off by over $6,000.00.”

“It’s off by nearly double that,” Jesse reminded her.

“No,” she shook her head, “Our finance committee report for the year shows total intake of $135,000 plus so far, not $129,000.”

“You’re still off six grand.”

“From the expected expenditures, yes. We have to either collect that in offerings by the end of the fiscal year or try and make that up in other ways. We still have Seth’s salary and Doris’s pay, building upkeep, utilities…all of those things, to take care of. This is off $12,000 though and that’s wrong.”

“Maybe Doris didn’t record the last month of offerings or something,” Jesse said.

“I report the exact amount to Kent every week and make out a deposit slip which we both countersign. He writes it in his ledger and reports right from that at the board meetings. It galls me sometimes that he’s the treasurer because I have more background in bookkeeping than he does but he does seem to be pretty meticulous about keeping the church’s books.”

Cole looked back and forth between them. “I’m confused. What does all of this mean?”

Jesse turned back to him, “It probably just means that ole’ Doris typed something up wrong or was looking at the wrong weeks’ or months’ numbers when she did this. Who knows. No big deal.”

“This is hopeless. Maybe I should ask at school about a project I could do.”

“I just had an idea,” said Faye. Her husband and grandson both looked at her expectantly. “It’s perfect. You could do a little fundraising, get materials donations too, hire a qualified carpenter as a foreman and you and your scouting buddies could put a new roof on a historical building that needs one. That’s a service.”

“And just what building might that be?” Jesse asked.

“Why the old opera house, of course. Chloe and I talked to the owner today. She’s going to let us try and get it listed on the National Register of Historic Places.”

“It’s privately owned,” Jesse said. “How’s doing anything to that a community service project?”

“It is now but we’re also going to form a 501c3 to buy it for the community. Aiden Quinn told me about that when we got to talking over at the bakery the other day.”

“I don’t like the idea of you going and getting involved in all of that mess. You’re busy enough here, and with the bakery and the church…”

“It will be community operated Jesse and besides, think of Cole. That will be good experience for him and it’s got to be a shoe-in for Eagle Scout project qualification.”

They both looked at the boy. “Yeah, except that I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted.

###

Tuesday, September 15th

“That sounds like a fine project Cole; provided you’re sure there is community involvement?”

“My grandma said to show you this.” Cole handed a sheaf of paperwork over to his Scoutmaster.

Robert Hanson picked up his glasses and slid them on. Before he could even peruse the copies the boy had given him, Cole started talking excitedly.

“The lady that owns the building right now agreed to have the power turned back on there if the village pays the bill. Mr. Quinn said he would do that while my grandma and Mrs. Rossi and some others work on that stuff.” He flipped a hand toward the paperwork. “That’s a copy of some applications to make it all official, like.”

“Yes,” Hanson nodded, “It’s an application to have the building declared to be a historical landmark.”

“Um, keep looking through there. Grandma said there was’ two applications. The other ones something about Morelville or…well, about the people in the village buying the building or something. I don’t explain it too good. Anyway, once the power is on, we can get in there and start cleaning up the place. It needs a lot of work inside too. The old doors are there…we can, we can put them back on and…there’s just so much.” He looked at Hanson hopefully.

The leader skimmed through everything Cole had given him and then looked back up at his charge. “Okay, I think I’ve got the thrust of the whole thing now. The community is trying to form what’s called a 501c3 which is a non-profit organization sort of like the Scouts are. I’m assuming they intend to buy this building once that status is granted and they’re raising the funds to do so?”

Cole nodded. “They’re going to hold a community meeting about it real soon and see if they can get people to pledge to it.”

“I have to tell you; you’re personally playing with a thin timeline here. Your project has to be completed before you turn 18 so you’ve got, what, about 10 months?”

Cole nodded.

“It can take a few months or more, according to the application for the historical designation, for that to happen – if it does at all – and it can take twice that for them to be able to get their non-profit status and to raise the necessary funds to buy the building. That might not leave you any time to complete your project.”

The teens’ face fell. “I guess I really hadn’t thought of that.”

Hanson stared off at the wall over Cole’s shoulder for a minute as he sat, his head hung, looking dejected. Finally, he asked, “Is this what you really want to do?”

Cole looked up. “Yes. The more Papa and I talked about it, the more I like it. I mean, I know that guy died in there and all and that scares me a little but, still, it’s a cool old building that would make a good museum or, like Grandma said, a little playhouse or something for shows and concerts.”

“Let me do this,” the older man said as he drew in and then blew out a breath, “let me talk to the church board or at least to the board President, Aiden Quinn. The church has been looking for bigger space for revivals and district meetings and such. Now, I can’t promise a thing, but if the church is interested, maybe they could go ahead and buy it and then share it with the community, once their organization is up and running…sort of, have a joint board.”

“Um, okay…I guess. I’m not sure I understand all of that.”

“I’m just trying to find a way to speed up the timeline so you don’t get stuck without a project before your time runs out.”

“So what should I do now?”

“The board meets next Wednesday. I should be able to get some sort of answer for you by next Friday. Why don’t you, in the meantime, try and talk to the woman that owns the building; see if she’ll let you in there? You’re going to need to find some help that can help you figure out what needs to be down and how much it’s going to cost.”

Hanson put a hand on Cole’s shoulder. “I’m going to level with you son, you’re biting off a lot here. You not only have to figure out what needs done and get it completed, you’ve got some fund raising ahead of you too. That might be the hardest part. Unless you have money and materials committed from the get go, Council isn’t going to approve this.”

Chapter 3 – Growing Pains

Wednesday Evening, September 23rd

Morelville Christian Church

Aiden Quinn looked pointedly around the large square of tables at the other board members as they finished consuming their pre-meeting meal. He stood and cleared his throat. “Faye, “I want to thank you for feeding us such a wonderful dinner tonight. Everyone’s efforts are always wonderful, of course,” he said as he caught the eyes of a couple of the others assembled for their twice monthly meeting, “but you always spoil us.”

Faye beamed but waved a hand dismissively in his direction. “Oh you! You know it’s my pleasure. Besides, you all don’t get anything I wasn’t already making for Jesse and, well, whoever else is eating at our house on any given night; I just make a little more, is all.”

“Well thank you,” he told her. “Now then, I’d like to ask that we dispense with the regular order of business for ten or fifteen minutes.” He held a hand out to his left. “Robert is here with us tonight. He wants to address us about a project one of his Scouts wants to do and ask for our support.” Catching Faye’s slight nod, he gave her a little smile.

He resumed his seat and everyone looked to Hanson expectantly but, before he could even begin to speak, Pastor Scott spoke up, “Brian’s already shown me his design and I think you’re all going to like it as much as I do. I really believe his plan is going to work and give us a nice memorial garden we can all be proud of.”

Hanson shot Aiden Quinn a look and asked, “Didn’t you tell them?”

Aiden, catching the confused looks from around the table including one from Faye, told the group, “I do apologize for blindsiding everyone but, as this is the first time we’ve all been together as the council since our last meeting, there wasn’t an opportunity to get the word out to you. Mr. Hanson has a proposal of sorts from one of his Scouts that might be very beneficial to us. I propose that we go ahead and give him the floor for a few minutes.” He gave Faye a broader smile now and nodded to Robert. There were answering nods all around.

Hanson launched into the spiel he’d rehearsed. He mentioned the opera house and its historical significance to the community, the project Faye and Chloe were spearheading to get it on the National Register and then he described the project Cole wanted to do to qualify for Eagle Scout. As he talked, Faye beamed even more than she had at Aiden’s praise while most of the rest of the board members listened with rapt attention. Only Ken Gross seemed to be impatient with the whole idea.

Gross drummed his fingers on the table top and waited for his chance to interrupt. When Robert stopped for a sip of his water, the developer pounced.

“If you’re asking the church to support the, how can I put this; the ill-advised effort to purchase this building by another, pseudo organization, we can’t do that.”

Half standing from his chair, Hanson leaned across the tables toward Gross, “I hadn’t finished.”

Faye couldn’t help herself. She jumped into the fray. “Ill-advised? It’s hardly that! That building has a long history with this community, predating most of it…certainly predating you and your grand plans for it. That’s what your issue is,” she snapped.

Aiden Quinn jumped up and raised his hands for calm. “Whoa. Let’s all remember that we’re in a house of God, first and foremost.” He looked pointedly at both his friend, Faye and at Kent whom he didn’t always agree with on matters outside the church but whom, he had to admit to himself, had been a steady hand at treasurer for the past couple of years. When both looked sufficiently cowed, he said, “Robert, if you don’t mind, I’ll take it from here.”

Hanson nodded his assent.

“It boils down to this folks, one way or another, that building is going to be sold by the current owner. A group of citizens has come together with intent to get it registered as historical and to purchase it for the community and rehab it to its former glory. Cole Roberts, Faye’s grandson,” he continued as he looked briefly at Faye, “wants to earn his way to Eagle Scout. He needs a project and he’s chosen the rehab as that project. There’s only one problem and here’s the crux of it.”

“The building has to be publicly or charitably held in order for Cole’s project to be approved. The community is working toward that end but that may not happen soon enough for Cole.”

Kent Gross shifted forward in his seat and shot the board President a look. Quinn held up a hand to him, “Let me finish.”

“We, as a church, as a congregation could use that space. We’ve talked about it before. The assembly area is easily twice the size of our current sanctuary. There’s room there for 200 people or thereabout and there are a few rooms that could be classrooms and meeting rooms plus there’s office space and, in the back stage areas some storage space.  Heavens, the stage is so large, we’d only need the front half or 2/3rds of that. We could wall off the back portion and make more rooms or more contained storage. This could be a solution to the space issues we talk about all of the time.”

“Yes,” Seth Scott said, “we’ve considered leasing it in the past but there were issues finding the actual owner. Is that what you’re proposing now?”

“No,” Quinn shook his head and Robert Hanson did the same. “We’d have to own the space for Cole’s project to work.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Kent Gross snarled. “We don’t have the funds to buy that building!”

“No, but we own this one,” Aiden said. “We could mortgage that one until we sold this and then pay the bulk of that off.”

“Or,” Kent shot back, “we could get a loan to make this much newer, more modern building big enough to suit our needs.”

“We’ve covered this ground before,” Seth put in. “We don’t own enough property here to do the kind of expansion we need without losing half of our parking and that’s already limited.”

Gross wasn’t to be dissuaded. “You don’t think that’s going to be an issue over there? There’s no parking at all there.”

Pastor Scott slumped back in his seat. Already appearing tired, he now looked like a man beaten down. Faye looked over at him with concern.

“If I might say something?” Evan Brietland asked the group. As several looked toward their aging Vice President in deference, the old man struggled to his feet. “What this young man wants to do is admirable. What the community wants to do is admirable but I question the community need. Mr. Hanson, or better perhaps, Mrs. Crane, do you care to explain?” Gross looked smug as he stared at Faye.

“I’m not sure I follow you Mr. Brietland,” she said.

“When the elementary school closed, the township took it over and it’s operated as a community center. There’s a fine auditorium there and a cafeteria, both of which we use as a congregation from time to time. I fail to see what purpose this building would serve for the community at large.”

“Here, here!” Kent Gross crowed.

Brietland, still standing, turned to face Gross. “Don’t you go getting too excited. I’m not finished.”

“You’re right, Mr. Brietland,” Faye said deferring to the man formally as she always had with members of the founding family of the village. “Our interest on the community side is purely based on the historical significance and the preservation of that.”

The silver haired man nodded. “The community, however, would most likely support it being rehabbed to operate as a church over it being leveled for other nefarious purposes.” It was his turn to glare at Kent Gross.

Kent didn’t give up. “Rehab? There’s so much work that needs to be done to that building to make it inhabitable by any sort of group, church or not, it’s totally cost prohibitive. We’d be insane to consider it.”

Aiden Quinn stood, joining Brietland. “This isn’t something we’re going to figure out in ten minutes tonight and we do have a full order of business to discuss.” He turned to Robert Hanson, “Thank you for being with us tonight. We need to open our official meeting and cover some agenda items. You have my word we’ll continue this discussion under new business; now, if you’ll excuse us?”

Chapter 4 – Cooked Books?

“Do I have a motion to accept the minutes of the previous meeting as read?” Aiden Quinn asked the Council.

“I move to accept them,” Evan said.

“Is there a second?”

No one spoke. Aiden looked around at the members as Doris Proctor sat holding her copy of the two typed pages, a look of confusion beginning to cloud her face. He asked again.

Faye cleared her throat and spoke up, “I think, before we approve the minutes, we should have the treasurers report, Aiden.”

Kent opened his ledger but Quinn held out a hand to stay him. “May I ask why?”

“There was a discrepancy pointed out to me that’s come to light since our last meeting,” Kent offered. “The minutes reflect my last report but an accounting done for the congregational meeting since then, shows a $6,000 plus dollar discrepancy.”

Before he could continue, Doris put in, “Oh that? That was just a typo. A little mistake is all.”

Faye watched the Secretary and Recorder for Council closely and thought she detected a bit of a tremble in her voice but she turned her attention quickly back to Kent Gross when he began speaking again.

“When it was brought to my attention by the finance committee, I thought that might be the case too and so I was willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I was wrong in that assumption.”

A gasp went up and around the tables and the members all leaned in, listening intently.

Gross glanced first at Faye and said, “You Mrs. Crane and your committee who work so quickly and diligently after services to total up the collection monies and divide it as earmarked by our members; you’ve all been above reproach. I find no fault with you or your team.”

Faye nodded at him, surprised at his unexpected praise and momentarily silenced.

He looked toward the pastor, “You Reverend Scott for all that you do to take care of the day to day needs of the church, the membership and all that your duties entail and you too have been above reproach.”

Seth Scott glanced around at the assembled board members and then down into his lap, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

“And that brings me to you, Ms. Proctor.”

“Me? But all I do is record the numbers that you give me. If I’m recording something incorrectly, it’s because you’ve given it to me incorrectly.”

Seth looked back up. “If this is just about the numbers for the Congregational Meeting, I did all of that myself. I probably used old data, is all. I’m the one that created that spreadsheet.”

He glanced over at Doris and continued, “I mean no offense, but Ms. Proctor struggles some with the finer points of accounting software and even with simple spreadsheets. I created one for her to use to make it a little easier on her and I took the numbers right out of that.” Several board members nodded, seemingly satisfied and relieved with this explanation.

Aiden spoke up, “It would seem then that we gave the congregation some bad information at the meeting. The record will have to be corrected, but it’s an innocent mistake.”

“Not so fast,” Kent cautioned. “I thought of that; truly, I did. Look,” he glanced around at the assemblage, “I know you all think I don’t deserve to be the Treasurer here; that I’m only here because no one else wanted to do it.”

Faye dropped her eyes to her own lap.

“It’s not bragging to say that I didn’t get as far as I have in real estate by not understanding the numbers. I may not have formal accounting training,” he said, catching Faye’s eye as she looked back up, “but I have learned it…quite a bit of it. Frankly, something smelled rotten and I checked it out after some things were brought to my attention recently.”

Kent picked up a folder off the table and took out a stack of papers. He passed two stapled packets to Aiden and two to Seth. “What you’re looking at gentlemen, are two slightly different spreadsheets, both showing the accounts of the church but each varying slightly in their totals month to month to the tune of between $500 and $900 a month for the last ten months or so. Our expenditures, it would seem, haven’t been as high as suggested on the ‘official’ spreadsheet,” he made air quotes, “that Ms. Proctor coordinates with me on and that she gives to you, Reverend Scott.”

“That’s not true,” Doris proclaimed. “Every penny on that spreadsheet has been spent!”

“I’m sure it has, Ms. Proctor. I’m sure it has. The question is, where?”

“Well! I never!” Doris shot a look around the table, looking for support.

“Kent,” Seth held a hand out to him, “let’s slow down here. You’ve made a very serious accusation with little to back it up.” He smiled at Doris. “Ms. Proctor is a great asset to this church when it comes to the day to day operations. I do admit though, and this is my point, she struggles mightily with the computer. A simple save to a shared drive is difficult for her. It would not surprise me if there were multiple versions of our spreadsheets floating around.”

Gross interrupted him. “Things are not as difficult for her as she’s led you to believe, Reverend. Let me lay this out for everyone and then you can all decide for yourselves, okay?” He looked around at each face in the group resting finally on the ashen countenance of Doris.

Aiden Quinn sighed. “You have the floor Mr. Gross but, please, let’s keep it civil.”

“I’ve made some calls on a couple of our vendor accounts and I’ve pulled some invoices to compare against the spreadsheets and against our bank statements...our real bank statements and not the altered ones in the church files.  With a couple of dollars here, a few dollars there and ten to twenty dollars elsewhere, money has been slowly siphoned away from the church. The numbers just don’t add up. My errors in all of this are in not checking the actual bank balance on a regular basis and in not reviewing the vendor bills as they came in to see what was actually owed and what we paid out.”

He paused and drew in a deep breath. “I guess; I really could have used some accounting courses after all. I trusted others to do the work I should have been doing.” He sat down in his chair heavily, held a finger up in a wait a minute sort of gesture and took a sip of his water. After clearing his throat, he went on. “Ms. Proctor, I’d love for you to tell me this is all a big mix up but I’d like you to explain this,” he said as he arched up a little, reached into a trouser pocket and drew out a small black item.

Doris looked at the object he was holding and then her head spun and her eyes lit on her purse sitting on the top of a table across the aisle.

“It’s not yours,” Kent told her as he watched her. “Yours is still in your purse, if that’s the last place you left it. Unfortunately for you, you left it in the USB port on your computer when I was here a couple of nights ago going through things and that’s how I found all of this out. This matching one,” he held it aloft again for everyone to see, “I bought in Zanesville for a few bucks.”

“Doris,” Seth implored her, “tell me this isn’t true.”

“I…I can explain.”

Aiden Quinn rose from his seat, drawing all attention his way. “At this time, I propose, for the sake of Ms. Proctor and her reputation with this church, that this meeting enter executive session with the pastor and the primary board members only. Committee heads, I appreciate your diligence in attending faithfully every two weeks but this is a matter best pursued privately.”

“If that’s a motion, I second it,” Evan Brietland said.

Doris interrupted, “It’s okay Evan, Aiden, really. Everyone can stay.” She took a deep breath. “You all remember my twin sister Denise?”

Most heads at the table nodded. To Kent Gross, who continued to eye her narrowly, she said, “Denise was the outgoing, vivacious one when we were in school. She went off to college to get away from here and meet a husband. She never looked back, in fact, she’s only been back here to visit a few times in the last thirty some odd years.”

“What does she have to do with this?” Kent asked.

“Everything. I did it for her. Denise never worked a day in her life outside the home. She married well, or so she thought and lived a life of leisure. She and her ex-husband only had one child. She flits about the world doing this and that and never comes home. A year ago, with their son out of college and out on his own, Gilbert divorced her; up and left her for a young assistant. Instead of retiring and doing all the things he’d always promised they’d do, he retired, filed for divorce and moved with a woman less than half his age to some island.”

Doris took a deep breath. “My sister couldn’t afford a lawyer. She couldn’t afford to fight him. She took what he gave her: the house, a car and a few thousand dollars. Oh, the home and car were paid for but within two months, the bills were overwhelming her.” Doris’ voice started to tremble. “She started selling everything she had, trying to stay afloat.”

Faye’s heart went out to the secretary. She could see the sincerity in her face. “You were trying to help her?” she asked.

Dori nodded then swallowed hard. “Yes. What I have is paid for but I don’t have much. I love the work I do for the church…wouldn’t trade it for the world.” She gave a slight smile to Seth. “This isn’t just a job to me. It’s…it’s my life.”

“But, it barely pays the bills, does it?” Seth probed gently.

The secretary nodded again. “Denise has to sell her house. The money I’ve been taking has been paying the utilities and putting a little food on the table for her. I was going to put everything back to rights once the house sells. She’s promised to pay every dime of it back to me. She doesn’t know I was taking what I’ve been giving her from the church. I was too ashamed to tell her I couldn’t help her but I so wanted to help. I miss my sister.”

About the Author

Anne Hagan is an East Central Ohio based government employee by day and author by night. She and her wife live in a tiny town that's even smaller than the Morelville of her Mystery fiction novels and they wouldn't have it any other way. Anne's wife grew up there and has always considered it home. Though it's an ultra-conservative rural community, they're surrounded there by family, longtime friends and many other wonderful people with open hearts and minds. They enjoy spending time with Anne's son and his wife, with their nieces and nephews and doing many of the things you've read about in her books or that will be 'fictitiously' incorporated into future Morelville Mysteries and Cozies series books. If you've read about a hobby or a sport in either series, they probably enjoy doing it themselves or someone very close to them does.

Anne and her wife are the co-owners of a haunted house: Hagan's House of Horrors. Much as her dream has always been to write fiction, her spouse's dream has been to create it through the medium of horror. They took their haunt operation fully commercial in 2015. Watch them as they grow!

Also Written by the Author

The Morelville Cozies

The Passed Prop: The Morelville Cozies – Book 1 – The first book in the Morelville Cozies series featuring meddling mother sleuths Faye Crane and Chloe Rossi.

Chloe Rossi wants to retire with her husband and move away from suburban sprawl to bucolic Morelville; the only trouble is, Morelville is experiencing its worst crime wave ever and Marco Rossi wants no part of a move there. What to do?

Faye Crane would like nothing more than to have her good friend Chloe move closer to her and to Chloe’s own daughter. She’s got Chloe convinced it’s a smart move but Marco is a tougher nut to crack. A string of brutal crimes around Halloween with no witnesses and little evidence to work with has her own Sheriff daughter and her entire department stymied. Marco is second guessing even taking his retirement since Sheriff Mel can’t get a handle on it all and bring peace and well-being back to the tiny village.

Someone has to root out a killer. Can Faye and Chloe nose around and figure out what the police can’t to solve the crime? If they do, will Marco still waver or will he consent to move?

This is the first book in a spin off series from the Morelville Mysteries series by Anne Hagan. The book stands alone but, if you’re interested in getting all of the Crane and Rossi families back story, you should check out the fifth book in the first series, Viva Mama Rossi!.

The Books of the Morelville Mysteries Series

Relic: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 1 – The first Dana and Sheriff Mel mystery and the first book in the Morelville saga. It is widely available as a free download wherever eBooks are sold. Please click the link above which will take you to Anne’s website where you can obtain a link to get the book at your retailer of choice.

Cases collide for two star crossed ladies of law enforcement…

Customs Special Agent Dana Rossi was forced to start her life anew after a bad breakup with her former girlfriend and the loss of job that she loved. These days, she spends life on the road, moving from one case to another until one day when runs run right into the path of Sheriff Mel Crane. The feisty, sexy butch cop is as determined to uncover a counterfeiting ring in her county as Agent Rossi becomes to stop a stalker obsessed with Mel and hot for her company. Dana is under the added pressure of conducting an undercover investigation of her own with a tight deadline: finding and then stopping a ring of smugglers bringing high end designer knock-offs into the states.

Could their cases be related? When repeated vicious attacks on Mel and on her home accelerate the danger for her and also their attraction to each other, they become desperate to find the truth and solve the two mysteries. Can they find a way to work together to resolve both cases while coming to terms with their growing feelings for one another? Can Dana move beyond her jilted lover past and find true happiness with a small town Sheriff?

Busy Bees: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 2

Romance and Murder Mix in the Latest Story Featuring Sheriff Mel Crane and Special Agent Dana Rossi!

Customs Special Agent Dana Rossi is down but not out after being shot and seriously injured during her previous assignment. Will romance blossom or will sparks fly when she agrees to shack up in Morelville with the beautiful butch Sheriff Melissa ‘Mel’ Crane and her extended family while she recovers?

Will murder get in the way of love? If murder doesn’t, will life in a house with children or a political campaign keep them apart? Can Mel solve two major crimes and keep her former job on the road loving girlfriend happy in a tiny town?

Dana’s Dilemma: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 3 – The relationship matures between Mel and Dana in an installment that features a breaking Amish character, an ex-girlfriend, a conniving politician and murder.

Elections and Old Loves Combine with Deadly Results in the Newest Romantic Mystery Featuring Sheriff Mel Crane and Special Agent Dana Rossi!

What happens when Mel runs for Sheriff, an Amish girl runs away from home and Dana runs – er, limps - for cover? Can anything else possibly go wrong for these two ladies of law enforcement? Sure it can and it will!

Can the two sometimes lovers work it all out once and for all and finally have a happy life together or will more crime, murder and mayhem get in the way?

Hitched and Tied: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 4

Mel and Dana attempt to bring their growing romantic relationship full circle but family, duty and family duties all conspire to get in the way.

A victim with close ties to the Cranes escapes a deadly assault with his life only to die from his injuries minutes later. Mel has few clues to find the fighter turned murderer and the further she goes with her investigation, the more the situation deteriorates. Meanwhile, Dana’s trying to plan their wedding but the family is resisting both her efforts and the wishes of the couple while focusing more on her sister and her traditional relationship.

Family angst, violent crime and more than a few Holstein steers abound as Dana and Mel fight against the odds to solve Mel’s case and find their own happily ever after.

Viva Mama Rossi!: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 5 – The 5th tale in the Morelville Mysteries and the book that gives fans a full introduction to future Morelville Cozies series sleuths Faye Crane (Mel’s mom) and Chloe Rossi (Dana’s Mama). The two series stand-alone but they’re certainly better together. For just the back story on Faye and Chloe and how they came to team up to solve mysteries, Viva Mama Rossi! is a quick and entertaining read. The synopsis:

A delayed honeymoon getaway takes a deadly turn for newlyweds Mel and Dana; meanwhile, two meddling mothers won't let sleeping fisherman lie in the latest Morelville Mystery.

Does an unsolved shooting death far away from Morelville have local ties? Did a fisherman really drown or was there something more sinister afloat?

All Mel and Dana wanted was to enjoy a nice, relaxing honeymoon in the Smokey Mountains, away from the strains of life in the public eye. Instead, they end up involved in a case local law enforcement has completely written off. Things are no better back home where their own mothers are stirring up an all new hornets’ nest that they think Mel and her own department have written off.

If there is going to be any rest for anyone, something is going to have to break in one case or the other...

A Crane Christmas: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 6

Is it the Christmas season or the ‘silly season’?

All Sheriff Mel wants to do is close out the year and spend a joyful first Christmas with Dana and with their extended families. She’s even hired a new detective, Janet Mason, to ease some of the workload for her and her only other detective, Shane Harding. Things were shaping up great for her and Dana for a relaxing holiday season. Too bad it just wasn’t meant to be…

The local criminals want it all too and a string of burglaries in high class county enclaves have Mel and both of her detectives stymied. Throw in a bunch of disappearing dogs, some designer sheep, a lonely woman and an unsolved murder case, and the good guys are at their wits end. Meanwhile, back in tiny little Morelville, things aren’t much better; the village is buzzing over Dana’s family taking over the store but Dana herself isn’t so sure that’s a good thing.

Can Mel and her team resolve everything before Christmas dinner comes out of the oven? Will Janet Mason fit in at all? Will Dana find a balance between work and family that works for her in time to enjoy her first Christmas with Mel?

Mad for Mel: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 7

Rival gangs will stop at nothing to gain sole control of the drug trade in Muskingum County and they’ve picked Valentine’s week to create a firestorm of murder and mayhem as they battle each other for supremacy.

Sheriff Mel Crane is blindsided by looting, murdering and marauding bikers at a time of year when most Harley’s are tucked safely away from the effects of Ohio winters that come rife with snow and ice. They’re rolling out, they’re out of control and she can’t stop them. On the home front, she’s feeling guilty about spending so much time working and hardly any time with Dana, especially when she knows Valentine’s Day is right around the corner…or so her mother-in-law keeps reminding her.

Dana just wants Mel to be safe; she has her own problems to worry about. Her attempt at novel writing isn’t going as well as she hoped and she’s bored. She got a little taste of what it was like to be an investigator again and she misses it. What to do?

Hannah’s Hope: The Morelville Mysteries – Book 8

A young mother with a troubled past seeks help from Mel and Dana but is their effort to assist her too little, too late?

Hannah Yoder appears on Dana and Mel’s doorstep late one night with her teenage friend Katie and Katie’s newborn baby in tow telling the couple the girl and child are in trouble and have no place else to go. Dana and Mel offer refuge for the night and a firm promise to talk about the future. Plans are barely made when first one mysterious tragedy strikes and then another leaving Mel, Dana, Hannah and the Crane and Rossi families with few clues and little hope.

Mel knows there’s a killer out there; she just doesn’t know where to start looking. She’s stonewalled at every turn and running out of time. Somebody knows something that will unlock the mysteries swirling all around, but who?

~~~

Broken Women – Anne’s first romance novel

Can two women, unlucky in love, find solace in each other?

Where do you go when you lose everything? Who do you turn to next when nobody seems to want you for more than a causal fling?

When death unexpectedly takes the love of your life, the best you can do is to try to cope and to hold on to the good memories. When your beloved’s family takes everything else you have, hope is all that’s left…if you can hang on to that.

You’ve been smitten more than once. You’ve even been in love a time or two. The trouble is, your feelings are always only yours. Cupid’s arrow always fails to land.

Can two love weary people, from different worlds, find strength together? Can they find more and even a happily ever after?

Fans of the Morelville Mysteries mystery/romance series may recognize these two characters, who played supporting roles in those books but this novel stands alone.

~~~

Three multi-eBook boxed sets of the Morelville Mysteries series works of Anne Hagan are also available for purchase.

The Morelville Collection is an eight eBook set that includes all of the full length Morelville Mysteries novels featuring Sheriff Melissa ‘Mel’ Crane and Special Agent Dana Rossi. It is currently available exclusively at Amazon for the Kindle and via Kindle Unlimited.

The Morelville Mysteries Full Circle Collection is a five eBook set that contains the first four Morelville Mysteries novels and an exclusive Companion Guide that is only available with this set. The set is available for $3.99 at multiple outlets. Most carry it with the 3D cover on the left. Apple iTunes/iBooks does not allow 3D cover views so it’s available there with the more generic cover on the right. Please click the hyperlink just above for a page at Anne’s website where you can get links to all the retailers who carry this set.

The Morelville Mysteries: Books 5-8 Collection is a four eBook set that contains the most recent additions to the ongoing Morelville Mysteries series. The set is available for $3.99 at multiple outlets. Please click the hyperlink just above for a page at Anne’s website where you can get links to all the retailers who carry this set.

Check Anne Out on her blog, on Facebook or on Twitter:

For the latest information about upcoming releases, other projects, sample chapters and everything personal, check out Anne’s blog at https://AnneHaganAuthor.com/ or like Anne on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAnneHagan. You can also connect with Anne on Twitter @AuthorAnneHagan.