Robyn hurried out. I sat down at the desk and looked at the papers she had left me. First was a photocopy of the St. Byblig’s schedule for the holy season. They had a lot going on, but I noted some possible empty spaces that the Baptists might use. Next up was a schedule from Temple Beth-El of Caerphilly—obviously printed out from a computer file. Seeing it made me realize that I needed more information from St. Byblig’s—the temple schedule didn’t just tell me the times and locations of each event, it had a column for each available space, and included the duration, the name of the event’s leader or other responsible person, the anticipated number of attendees, and any special needs, like a projector or a coffee setup. I was about to give Rabbi Grossman top marks for thoroughness until I found the Trinity schedule Robyn had prepared. It was a printout similar to the Temple Beth-El’s, but Robyn had also given the capacity of each room, attached a list of the people I might need to call about rescheduling their events, and penciled in useful if offbeat suggestions of where some of the Trinity events could be located to free up space for the Baptists.

And she noted that she’d sent me an electronic copy as well. Fabulous. There was no need to reinvent the wheel—I could just take her file and add another column for each room available in the county’s unskunked churches and whatever other venues we could find. Sorting the events into the available spaces would be easy.

Okay, not easy. Doable.

But to do that I’d need to run home to get my laptop. And speaking of home—I pulled out my cell phone. Nine o’clock. Not too early to call Rose Noire and check on the boys.

I called home. Michael answered.

“Jamie and Josh’s residence.” I could hear peals of childish laughter in the background.

“Good,” I said. “Chief Featherstone finally sent you home.”

“I feel guilty,” he said. “Some of the guys are still there helping with the cleanup. But I got a reprieve because I spent so much time helping Horace in the choir loft. The chief assigned someone else to stay with him till the bitter end. And I do mean bitter.”

“You’re going to get some rest now, right?”

“I’m going to take the boys to town this morning to shop for your Christmas present.”

“Hamsters!” piped up a small voice in the background.

“Sshh! Want surprise Mommy,” said another small voice.

“Please convince them that I don’t need any hamsters,” I said. “I know the boys think they’re cute and cuddly, but they’re just rodents to me. And if you ask me, we have more than enough pets already.”