He glanced away, seemingly shaken by the thought that Rudolf had been killed. “I remember that he stepped closer to me to hand me the note and he lowered his voice as if he was afraid someone might overhear him when he asked me to keep it until after the funeral. In fact, he made me swear I wouldn’t let anyone see it except his son.”
“You didn’t think that was odd?”
“I’ve had a lot of odd requests over the years. One elderly lady insisted that I be in the room when the undertaker prepared her body, and another asked me to speak at her cat’s funeral. Last year a man insisted his funeral service be nothing but Beatles lyrics,” the pastor nervously babbled. “As I said, I don’t judge.”
Kir bit back a curse of impatience. “So what did you do with the note?”
“I placed it in a folder and locked it in my filing cabinet.”
“You didn’t look at it?”
“Certainly not.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone that my father gave it to you?”
Bradshaw stiffened, his face hard with unmistakable indignation. “My meetings with my parishioners, regardless if they attend my church or not, are sacred,” he rasped. “I would never compromise their privacy.”
Kir nodded, ignoring the man’s outrage. He was forming a theory of why Rudolf had chosen to leave the note with Pastor Ron Bradshaw. “My father would probably have known that,” he spoke his thoughts out loud.
“What?”
“If my father was trying to find a place to hide the list, it would make sense to choose a person who had no connection to him, and someone who could also keep it secret until they could give it to me,” he explained. “Who better than a man of the cloth?”
Bradshaw looked skeptical. “Why not send it to you directly?”
Kir’s lips parted to say he didn’t know why, but then he snapped them shut with a grimace. He did know why his father hadn’t sent the letters to him. He just didn’t want to admit the truth.
With an effort, he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. “Because he didn’t trust me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
Kir smiled wryly at the pastor’s shocked expression. “It is, unfortunately. I was just as bad as the sheriff. For years I ignored his claims that he was receiving letters from a killer. If he’d sent me the list, I probably would have thrown it in the trash. But after he died . . .” He shook his head, familiar regret weighing heavy on his heart. “Everything that belonged to him was suddenly important.”
Bradshaw seemed to consider Kir’s words before giving a shake of his head. “That doesn’t explain why he would have chosen me. There are six other churches in this town. Most of them much larger than mine.”
Kir didn’t have a ready answer. There were certainly churches closer to his dad’s house. And there wasn’t a bar within blocks, so it seemed unlikely he would have spent a lot of time in the area. Of course, the road that ran past the church was the access road heading to the nearby highway.
“Maybe he was driving by and happened to see you,” he absently suggested.
Bradshaw made an odd sound. As if he was choking. “Yes, that’s right!”
Kir sent the younger man a startled glance. “What is right?”
“You just reminded me that when your father first walked up to me, he looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know how to start the conversation,” the pastor said. “It’s something I’m accustomed to, so I happened to notice his boots were covered in snow and I asked if he needed any help shoveling his driveway. There are several young men in my congregation who are always looking to make some extra money.” He paused, as if waiting for Kir to commend his consideration toward his flock. When Kir sent him an impatient glare, he flushed and continued. “Your father said he hadn’t been shoveling snow, he’d been out fishing that morning. I happen to be an avid angler myself, so we spent several minutes chatting about a new pole he’d gotten from his son for Christmas.”
Kir hissed as the words hit him like a physical blow. When he’d bought the pole for his dad, he’d intended to fly home for Christmas and give it to the older man in person. Instead he’d gotten caught up in being wined and dined by the corporation that was hoping to buy his business, and he’d wrapped up the gift and sent