Free Murder at the Courthouse by A. H. Gabhart

He didn’t know whether it was the way Joe had avoided his eyes or something Joe had said, but Michael had the feeling Joe knew more than he was telling.
    Of course, Joe never looked at you much. He mostly kept his eyes on your hair while he worked, peeking at your face in the mirror now and again as he let out any news he mighthave heard in tiny morsels to be considered carefully before the next morsel was offered. Michael would go get a haircut tomorrow even if he didn’t need one.
    He came around the curve and there, on the other side of the cedars, Aunt Lindy’s car was parked in front of his house. Michael sighed. He’d have to put off the long shower and the solitude he’d looked forward to out on his back deck while he tried to make sense of everything. But it wasn’t all bad. Aunt Lindy rarely came empty-handed.
    He parked the cruiser next to the sporty red car she’d bought last fall and kept trying to lend him in case he wanted to use it for a date. When he reminded her that Karen didn’t mind riding in his old truck, she told him somewhat pointedly that Karen Allison wasn’t the only woman in the world.
    Not that Aunt Lindy didn’t like Karen. She did. Michael thought she even admired Karen for being the first female preacher Hidden Springs had ever had. The Presbyterian Church had called Karen straight out of seminary three years ago. Since the congregation was small, some of the less forward-thinking people in Hidden Springs said the church couldn’t find a man willing to take on the pastorate. But Karen was sure the Lord had led her to Hidden Springs and had a purpose for her being there.
    That might be what Aunt Lindy really couldn’t stomach. That Karen Allison had paid attention to the Lord’s calling when it was Michael she wanted to pay attention to the Lord’s purpose in his life. She didn’t think that purpose was to be a preacher’s husband, even though she often said a woman had to be called to make a good preacher’s wife.
    Whatever the reason, she was dead set against Michael drifting into a serious relationship with Karen.
    â€œKaren’s very nice,” she told Michael last week when he took her a plate of food after Karen’s church had a potluck meal. The words were more condemnation than compliment. “I suppose that’s not altogether bad when you have a congregation to keep happy.”
    â€œThey all love her.” Michael set the foil-wrapped Styrofoam plate overloaded with food on the counter. It was more than Aunt Lindy would eat in a week.
    â€œAs they should. She’s the best pastor they’ve had for years. She’s not much of a preacher, but she’s always there if they call her. As I said, she’s nice.” Aunt Lindy made a face that didn’t exactly fit with the word “nice.” “Church people need nice, but you need somebody to strike sparks off you. Somebody to wake you up. Somebody who can mother town founders.”
    â€œI don’t think there are any towns left to be founded.” Michael hadn’t bothered to hide his smile.
    â€œYour children will be pioneers in other ways. It’s the Keane family tradition.”
    â€œNot the Keane family I know,” Michael teased her. “We just sort of hide out in Hidden Springs and live a lot like the guy next door.”
    â€œThere are all sorts of ways to be pioneers.” Aunt Lindy lifted her chin defiantly.
    â€œYou call Dad following in his father’s footsteps preaching at the Hidden Springs First Baptist Church being a pioneer?”
    â€œIt was his calling. The Lord used him to make the town better. And now it’s your turn. You have responsibilities to Hidden Springs and to the family name. The important thing is keeping the Keane line strong and vigorous.”
    â€œKaren’s more of a pioneer than I’ll ever be. A female preacher. Here in Hidden Springs.”
    â€œAnd