“Of course, he didn’t head an official foundation back then,” Ian said. “He was just a wealthy man with a yen for giving to needy causes. Wendell put the two of us together, and even though Tom didn’t know me from Adam, once he took a look at my business plan for the soup kitchen, he pulled out his wallet and wrote me a check for $5000.”

I smiled, knowing that sounded exactly like something Tom would do.

“Of course,” Ian continued, “I know that must sound like a piddling little sum to you, considering the amounts you people dole out these days. But it was a godsend for me, I’ll tell you. That money made the difference that got us off and running.”

“I’m so glad.”

We chatted about his soup kitchen until we reached the end of the lighted sidewalk. As if prearranged, we both stopped and turned around and headed back toward the funeral home.

“My late wife loved strolling at night,” he said wistfully, out of the blue. “Especially on an evening like this when the temperature is pleasant and the sky is so clear.”

“My late husband was the same way,” I replied. “Loved being out at night, loved looking at the stars.”

We glanced at each other and smiled, acknowledging without words that we were both members of the same club—a club that neither of us wanted to belong to.

We were silent for a moment after that, each of us lost in our thoughts. My mind drifted from memories of my own happy marriage to that of Derek and Sidra and their current marital disaster.

“So, Ian,” I said, forming my words carefully as we walked, “I assume you are aware of the odd things that have happened to Sidra lately.”

“Yes, I am.”

“What can you tell me about it? Obviously, she’s in a lot of pain.”

“It’s an awful situation.”

“How did it start?”

Ian looked at me, apparently deciding how much he should say. As the family’s pastor, he surely had some confidentiality issues. On the other hand, he knew that I was an experienced professional on an investigation. Anything he told me might help to unravel this mess.

“I’m here to find out who murdered Wendell,” I said softly. “I think this business with Derek and Sidra might be related to it.”

He nodded, finally coming to a stop at the edge of the parking lot. If he was going to tell me this tale, I assumed, he was at least going to do it where we couldn’t be overheard.

“I can tell you things that I learned from Marion because she asked me to. But anything that I may have heard from Sidra is of course confidential.”

“Of course.”