Don't Look (Pike, Wisconsin #1) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,41

knew both women she’d have questions for you.”

“I didn’t really know them,” Ron protested. “I’ve seen poor Ms. Higgins in the store, of course. She came every Monday afternoon to see what furniture had been dropped off over the weekend.”

Kir didn’t miss the edge in the pastor’s voice. Sherry was no doubt the type of person who took advantage of his charity, swooping in like a bird of prey to snatch the best furniture to use in her trailers. “Was she here last Monday?”

Ron furrowed his brow, as if trying to think back. “She must have been. I would have noticed if she didn’t stop by.”

“And Randi? When was the last time she was here?”

The pastor narrowed his eyes, as if annoyed by the question. But his good manners overcame his irritation. “The local PTA collects canned goods at the school for our food pantry,” he told Kir. “This year Randi was president, so it was her responsibility to deliver the collection at the end of each month.”

Satisfaction flared through Kir. He’d been right. Both women had been regular visitors to the charity shop.

Along with Pastor Bradshaw.

“When was the last time Randi was here?”

“School was closed through the holidays, so I guess it would have been the end of November.” Ron pointed toward the back door. “She usually leaves the cans in the large container in the parking lot, so she doesn’t have to come in. For all I know it could be her husband, or even one of her employees, bringing them by.”

Kir narrowed his eyes. Was it his imagination or did Ron’s efforts to deny any interaction with Randi sound forced?

Tucking the thought in the back of his mind, Kir glanced through the nearby door to the actual store that had a half dozen customers strolling along the towering shelves. Including Lynne, who was chatting with a weary-looking woman with three small children tugging on her frayed coat.

“How many people work here?” he asked his companion.

“We have several volunteers,” Ron said. “But no one is on the payroll. This is a charity in its truest form.”

“Any men?”

Ron lifted his brows at the question. “Sam Lind and Ted Madsen are usually here in the mornings. They’re both retired, and coming here gets them out of the house. As a matter of fact, they just left.” The pastor paused, before he seemed to recall that Sam and Ted weren’t the only men. “And on Mondays the sheriff sometimes brings by parolees who need community service hours to help me with deliveries or pickups.”

Kir swallowed a curse. Parolees? That could mean dozens of men and women who’d seen Sherry and Randi around the store. And many of them violent criminals. Instead of scratching Ron off the list of potential suspects, he’d instead added endless possibilities.

“Did you have any of them here the last few months?” he asked, hoping to narrow down the list.

“A few.”

“Do you have their names?”

Ron’s expression hardened. “That’s not something I’m comfortable discussing.”

Kir wanted to kick himself. Ron had gone from polite man of the cloth to eyeing Kir with a barely concealed dislike. Kir had not only stepped over the line, but had ruined any hope of getting more information out of the pastor. At least for today. “Of course.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” Ron said in cool tones. “I’m sure your father’s belongings will find a grateful home.”

Turning away, the pastor headed into the store.

And that was that.

Chapter 11

Lynne settled in the leather seat of the SUV as they pulled away from the charity shop. Next to her, Kir was focused on the icy streets, his expression difficult to read.

“What did you find out?” she asked.

“I confirmed that both victims spent time at the shop,” he told her. “Sherry came to pillage free furniture for her trailer park business and Randi stopped by each month to deliver donations from the school to the food pantry.” He paused as they turned onto the main street leading to the center of town. “And then there is Pastor Ron Bradshaw who runs the shop.”

“What about him?”

“He crossed paths with both women.”

She sent him a confused glance. “So did a lot of people.”

“Yeah, but Pastor Bradshaw is the only one who gave me a note with the initials of potential victims on it.”

It suddenly hit Lynne why they’d gone to the charity shop. It hadn’t just been because he suspected Sherry and Randi had been there. No doubt the two women had also been at the grocery store, the post