A Lonely Way to Die: A Utah O'Brien Mystery Novel (Minnesota Mysteries Series Book 2) by Jonni Good Page A

probably thinks he agrees with her, but he’s just having some fun at her expense.”
    “Why doesn’t the pastor sit Laura Rey down and explain things to her?” I said. “Isn’t that his job?”
    “Probably wouldn’t do any good. She’ll figure it out soon enough. Don’t worry about that flier. There won’t be any crowd with pitchforks outside your door next week. People got more sense than that.”
    I folded the flier into a small square and put it in my pocket. “John Owen has been the pastor for a really long time, hasn’t he? Don’t they usually move the preachers around? The Methodists have had at least five preachers that I can remember.”
    Pete shrugged. “Owen got attached, somehow. I’m not sure how he did it. The members have talked about getting a new pastor, but he always talks them out of it. I stopped going, after my Marcia died. He just keeps reading the same sermons, but Rita said he’s been adding more hellfire and brimstone lately, to spice things up. I don’t like that sort of thing, myself. They’ll have to close the church if they don’t get more members pretty soon, and a new pastor might be just what that place needs. But John Owen won’t budge.”
    “That sounds a little like you, Utah,” Angie said. “Hanging onto that old building of yours, even after the business shuts down. When are you going to move to Sam’s house, so I can invite myself over to watch a movie on his nice TV?”
    I smiled, said my goodbyes, and headed home.

 
     
    TEN
     
     
    When I walked through the front door of the museum, Sam was sitting on the old love seat next to the sculpture of the American camel, with it’s big, silly two-toed feet. I brought the loveseat into the museum after it closed so I could sit out there and have a cup of tea. It was cold now, in the big unheated space, but I sat down next to him.
    He put his arm around me, and I leaned against him. I thought, and not for the first time, how nice it was to be next to a man who was taller than me.
    “Your mother’s mad at me,” he said, while looking at the looming dark clouds through the big curved window at the top of the front wall of the museum.
    I said, “She was mad at me, too. She said Mort and I shouldn’t go around asking questions about Sonje McCrae.”
    Sam’s eyebrows scrunched together in a frown. He doesn’t frown very often. “She took me off to the side after Gabe and I got back with Molly. She said the boy already had enough excitement for the day, and he needed to rest. But the poor kid can’t sit around and mope all day. He needs to be up and doing something. Was I wrong to take him with me?”
    I leaned on him again, and put my head on his shoulder. “I can’t see why. I don’t know what’s the matter with her.”
    “Maybe she’s feeling left out,” he said. “Remember, last year when you and Mort started looking for Larry Webb’s killer? Your mother was right in the middle of it, working her butt off to help. She even called me and asked me to write that article about the owl in Native American mythology for your blog. Of course, that was because—”
    “—it was because she was matchmaking, and you know it, you sly dog.”
    He gave me a lopsided grin and his chest vibrated with his rumbling chuckle. “I had to look up all that stuff about the owl on the Internet. It must have been a good article, though, because I got my girl.”
    “It was that green plaid Pendleton shirt you were wearing. I’m a sucker for old Pendleton wool.”
    “I’ll have to remember to wear it more often.” He pulled me closer with his big paw on my shoulder, and gave me a proper kiss.
    When we pulled apart, he said, “I got two good women out of the deal. Your mother’s a pretty special lady—but she’s not real happy today. Can you give her something more to do?”
    I thought about it for a second. “We need to go see Pastor Owen. I thought Mort and I would do it, but I’ll try to talk Josie into coming