Free Dead Ringer by Sarah Fox

but we never had much of a chance to truly discuss things before he . . . well, before he passed.”
    That explanation didn’t sit right with me, but I didn’t let on. “Spiritual guidance? Oh dear. Was he troubled?” I pretended to find the idea distressing.
    â€œAh . . .” McAllister hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t divulge the nature of our discussion in any more detail.”
    â€œOf course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into confidential matters.”
    Reverend McAllister waved off my apology, his eyes going to the door behind me. “Estelle.”
    I twisted in my seat—­a mistake, I realized, as the broken spring dug deeper into my derriere—­to get a look at the new arrival. The woman who stood in the doorway was probably close to fifty, her light brown hair cut in a sleek, chin-­length bob.
    â€œMy sister, Estelle,” Reverend McAllister said to me. “Estelle, this is . . .”
    â€œMidori Bishop,” I supplied. I stood up, grateful to escape the bite of the rogue spring. “I’d better be on my way. Thank you, Reverend.”
    McAllister got to his feet too. “Any time.”
    I smiled at Estelle on my way out the door and checked the time on my cell phone again as I made my way down the hall. Mikayla would probably have arrived by now, so I could ask her about Hans. My eavesdropping and my conversation with the reverend had been interesting but only left me with more questions.
    There was something fishy about McAllister, but that didn’t necessarily make him a murderer. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of “spiritual guidance” would have led to the heated exchange that Hans had witnessed.
    â€œMs. Bishop!”
    I glanced over my shoulder. Estelle hurried down the hall toward me, so I waited for her at the top of the stairway. When she reached me, she smoothed down her white blouse and navy skirt.
    â€œI’m sorry to waylay you,” she said.
    â€œThat’s all right.” I was curious why she wanted to talk to me.
    â€œPeter told me that you’re the one who found the body the other night.”
    I figured Peter must be the reverend. “That’s right.”
    Estelle gave me a sympathetic smile. “I wanted to say how sorry I am that you had to go through that.”
    â€œOh. Thank you.” I was puzzled, sensing there was more she wanted to say.
    She gestured at the stairway. “Shall I walk with you?”
    â€œSure.”
    Estelle shook her head as we started down the stairs. “Such a tragedy. That poor young man. First the troubles with his relationship, and then he ends up getting murdered. What a shame.”
    â€œRelationship?” I was still puzzled about the woman’s interest in talking to me, but I picked up on that one word right away.
    â€œWith his girlfriend,” she explained as we reached the landing. “He was concerned that she was cheating on him, and he didn’t know what to do about it.”
    â€œYou knew Jeremy?” I was surprised. I couldn’t imagine Jeremy giving the time of day to the reverend’s sister.
    â€œOh. Oh dear.” Estelle seemed flustered. “I’ve said far too much, I’m afraid. You see, I overheard the young man speaking to Peter the other day. Accidentally, of course.”
    â€œOf course,” I said, although I suspected it had been as accidental as my eavesdropping on the reverend’s phone call.
    â€œBut no, I didn’t know him. I didn’t even meet him, officially. But I did think it was such a terrible tragedy.”
    â€œYes,” I said, descending the last few stairs. “It was certainly terrible.” I shivered, the memory of what I had discovered only a short distance away resurfacing with disturbing clarity.
    â€œI’m so sorry,” Estelle said. “I didn’t mean to upset