“Oh, no, no, no, they can’t afford me full time. If I actually had to live on what they pay me, I’d be destitute. I work twenty hours a week here, that’s for love, and the rest of the time, I’m a Realtor, for the money.” She stopped on the landing in front of an oil of a dyspeptic-looking gentleman in black judge’s robes. “Jacob De-Weese. This was his house. His daughter bequeathed it to the historical society.” She tickled a mauve-lacquered fingernail beneath his painted chin. “They called him ‘the Hanging Judge.’ ”

“He looks the part.”

“It always surprises people when they hear what I do,” Roxanne went on, mounting the stairs. “I’m so passionate about preservation, they can’t believe I sell houses to keep body and soul together.”

“I can believe it,” Clare said.

Roxanne pinched a business card from her skirt pocket and gave it to Clare. This must be her day for collecting phone numbers. “Of course, you don’t need my services, with that delicious Dutch revival you have. That belongs to your church, right?”

Clare nodded.

“Well, tell them if they ever want to raise money, I can take it off their hands and get a sweet price for it. I could find a nice little condo for you, not too far out of town. And it’d be a lot easier on your budget than running that big house.”

Clare pictured St. Alban’s leaking roof, which might as well be plugged with twenty-dollar bills for what it was going to cost to repair, and resolved to never, ever bring up to the vestry Roxanne Lunt’s name or the possibility of selling the rectory.

“Here we are,” Roxanne caroled, turning the handle on a paneled oak door at least twice the thickness of its modern counterpart. She pressed a button in a brass light-plate, and three sets of frosted-glass globes sprang to life, illuminating dozens upon dozens of what looked like banker’s boxes stacked along the walls, butting up against a beautifully carved mantelpiece, half obscuring three tall windows running along the far wall. Clare could read descriptions in confident black marker on some of the nearest: LADIES VILLAGE IMPROVEMENT ASSOCIATION, 1916-1936 and LANGWORTHY FAMILY W/CIVIL WAR.