“Thank you, dear,” she said. “Now all I have to do is figure out some way to get everything out there.”

“I have some ideas about that,” I said. “December twenty-sixth is Boxing Day, right? Let’s ask everyone who’s got a truck or a large trunk to come and move a few boxes. And you and the ladies of St. Clotilda can supervise.”

“Everyone in the congregation?” Robyn said. “What a great idea!”

“And anyone in any other congregation who wants to help out,” I said. “With any luck we’ve built some bridges over the last few days.”

“Lovely, dear,” Mother said. “And I can probably recruit a few cousins to help.”

The last time Mother had recruited a few cousins for a project, we’d ended up fixing sandwiches and finding beds for fifty people. But the project did get done, and in record time.

“I think we have a plan,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

“Good night, dear,” she said, and hung up.

“I hope that’s not too inconvenient for you,” Robyn said. “Having all that stuff in your barn.”

“It won’t be for long,” I said. “Mother’s been champing at the bit, waiting to get her chance to bid on some of Mrs. Thornefield’s stuff.”

“Then I will eagerly await Boxing Day and the opening of all those boxes,” Robyn said. “Goodness! This has certainly been the most unusual Christmas season. Do you suppose I should warn the bishop I’m a murder suspect?”

“Are you?” I asked.

“I quarreled with the victim,” she said.

“You’ll have to stand in line behind half the congregation on that one,” I said. “Most of us have been quarreling with him a lot longer than you have.”

“And I knew he was plotting to get me kicked out of Trinity,” she said. “He told me as much. My first parish as rector, after all those years as an assistant, and a mere six weeks after I arrive, one of the vestry is already plotting my downfall. That’s motive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but nothing like the motive Mother has,” I said. “He called her proposed design for redecorating the parish hall ‘fussy and old-fashioned.’”

“Mercy!” Robyn said with a smile. “I wouldn’t blame her for killing him after that. I’d have helped! So you think I should wait a while before telling the bishop?”

“Probably. Then again, Mr. Vess was always complaining to the bishop about things, and for all I know he could have complained about our bishop to the presiding bishop. Maybe you should tell the bishop to make sure he has an alibi.”

Robyn giggled and shook her head. And then her face grew sad.