Read Online Murder Had a Little Lamb by Cynthia Baxter - Free Book Online Page A

to know who
you
are,” I told him apologetically.
    “I’m the school chaplain. Here at Worth, we believe that even teenage girls are capable of developing a moral compass—at least, with enough prompting.”
    I laughed.
    “So I guess I should call you Reverend Evans,” I observed.
    He shrugged. “Richard works, too. Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”
    “In that case, I think I’ll stick with Reverend Evans,” I told him. “But please feel free to call me Jessie.”
    “Jessie it is,” he replied. “By the way, I couldn’t help noticing your van out in the parking lot. It is yours, isn’t it?”
    “It’s mine, all right. It’s actually a clinic on wheels.”
    “Really? You mean you treat animals right in your vehicle?” A look of delight crossed Reverend Evans’s face. “What a clever concept!”
    “A lot of people find it useful,” I agreed. “Myclients are generally people who are really busy—or for various reasons have a hard time getting out of the house. It’s also a great option if an animal is seriously ill and would be traumatized by getting in a car and traveling to a regular vet’s office.”
    He nodded. “I can think of a long list of scenarios in which your services would be just the ticket. I take it you have everything you need right in the van?”
    “That’s right. An examining table, medications, you name it. I even have an assistant who travels around with me some of the time.”
    “In that case, could I impose upon you to take a look at my dog, Chach?” Reverend Evans asked. “He’s a shih tzu and he’s been limping a bit. At first, I assumed he’d stepped on something sharp, and that it would heal on its own. But it’s been almost a week now, and I’ve been thinking that I should really have it looked at.”
    “Have you examined his paw?” I asked, frowning with concern.
    “I tried, but he kept yelping and pulling it away. I was afraid of hurting him, so I just left it alone.”
    “So you haven’t had a chance to see if he’s got a cut.”
    “I’m afraid not.”
    “You should probably have him looked at as soon as possible,” I said. “I’d be happy to do it—the sooner, the better.”
    “How about tomorrow after your class?”
    “Tomorrow’s great. Why don’t we shoot for around ten forty-five?”
    “Perfect.”
    His forehead tensed as he said, “Now I feel bad that I waited so long. It’s just that this has been such a crazy week.”
    “I’m sure you’ve had your hands full,” I said, “counseling the girls and all. After that terrible thing happened to their art teacher, I mean.”
    Reverend Evans shook his head. “Such a tragedy. I do hope the police catch Mr. Stibbins’s killer before long.”
    The police … or anyone else who’s been given the challenge, I thought grimly.
    Aloud, I said, “I take it Mr. Stibbins was extremely well liked here at the school.”
    Reverend Evans looked startled by my comment. “Well, he’d certainly been here for a long time. He was kind of a fixture.”
    “You must have known him pretty well,” I ventured.
    “Not really.” Thoughtfully, he added, “Certainly not as well as someone like Claude Molter. He’s our music teacher.”
    “Were the two of them close?”
    He hesitated before saying, “They certainly had a lot in common.”
    “Like what?”
    Thoughtfully, Reverend Evans replied, “Even though Nathaniel and Claude were in entirely different fields—art and music—they were both extremely accomplished. Claude is a world-renowned violinist. He began his career as a child prodigy in Belgium, where he was born. But he went on to perform with some of the greatest orchestras in the world.”
    “Wow,” I said, sincerely impressed.
    “I understand he’s also a count.”
    “A count?” I’d never run into a count before. That is, aside from Count Dracula, Count Chocula, and the Count on
Sesame Street
. And none of them was real.
    I was about to ask Reverend Evans as