Shadow of Doubt (A Kali O'Brien legal mystery) (18 page)

While we waited for stragglers, the minister mopped his brow and ran a finger under his collar. He murmured something to one of the representatives from the funeral home, who in turn said something in Spanish to another man. Off to one side, I caught a young woman staring hard in our direction and wondered fleetingly if she was the other woman in Eddie’s life.

When the last of the mourners had finally joined the group, the minister said a few words, then asked us to bow our heads in prayer as the casket was lowered into the earth. Jannine was standing between her mother and me, with her children assembled in front. I heard her breath catch when the ceremonial spade of soil struck the casket, but she held her head level and her eyes were dry. Somewhere she had found an inner strength that amazed me. After the minister said a few more words, a woman with tight blonde curls and visible streaks of pink blusher sang an off-key solo of “Amazing Grace.”

And then it was over. The crowd dispersed, and we made our way individually to the Langleys’ for bodily nourishment and spiritual fortification.

The Langleys’ house was a fairly new, excessively fancy ridge top villa that looked to me more like a mausoleum than the place we’d just come from. But Marlene had been right. It was spacious and ideally suited for entertaining, something at which Mrs. Langley seemed quite proficient. While Mrs. Langley greeted guests and directed them to the various tables of food and drink, Marlene took Jannine off to the side and settled her onto a comfortable couch. There were a couple of chairs angled next to it, presumably for those who wished to offer words of comfort.

“Thank goodness this day is almost over,” Nona said, joining me in the alcove off the dining room.

“Jannine seems to be holding up remarkably well,” I observed.

“She didn’t really want any of this foofaraw, particularly with people saying the things they’re saying about her, but you know how it is. Sometimes it’s hard to say no.”

“Especially for Jannine.”

“Yes, she’s a great believer in peace at all costs.” Nona started to say something more, then stopped, pulling her mouth tight “Have you managed to see Benson yet?” she asked, after a moment.

“Yesterday.”

Nona looked at me expectantly, her expression an odd mix of hopefulness and dread. “What did he say?”

I looked over at Jannine in the far corner, surrounded by a small group of women. Her head was bent, her hands clasped tight in her lap, but she managed to look up every now and then, and nod at one of her companions. With the exception of a few bleak moments, she’d managed to hold herself together. But I wasn’t sure how long she could sustain it. An arrest, the ensuing trial, I hated to think what it might do to her.

I looked back to Nona and sighed. “The police don’t have anything concrete, but they’ve got enough to make them think they can build a case. And I haven’t found anything so far to blow it apart. No one remembers seeing Jannine at the mall last Saturday, and she has no proof her gun was stolen.”

Nona drew in a sharp breath. "This isn’t going to work, is it? You’re not going to be able to stop them.” Her voice was tight. Her hands twisted and kneaded, mirroring the panic inside. “Dear God, I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know what to do at all.”

I took her hands in mine and held them steady. They were frailer than I remembered, the skin soft and loose like worn flannel. “It’s going to be all right. I’ll find something. It’s just a matter of digging. I’ve already come up with a couple of things that may lead somewhere.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Nona. She pulled herself together, mentally dusting off the places that had scraped bottom. She gave me a feeble smile. ‘‘Thank you, Kali. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

I smiled back, reassuringly. After a moment, I said, “I need to ask you some touchy questions. I hope you don’t mind.”

She raised a brow, curious.

“Did Eddie and Jannine have a good marriage?”

The curious look gave way to a frown. “Jannine doesn’t talk to me about such things.”

“From what you’ve seen, though, did they get along?”

“People work things out in their own way, you know.” There was a pause. “Anyway, Jannine just sort of let things roll over her.”

“Let what roll over her?”

It took a moment for Nona to answer, but she finally stopped biting her lower lip and looked at me. “You know, the sarcasm, the insults. I can’t remember any specifics, but the gist of it was that she was fat and stupid and dull. Seemed like lately Eddie found fault with everything she did.”

“How did Jannine take it?”

“She acted like she didn’t even notice.”

I'd noticed the pattern myself the night of the barbecue.

Nona glanced over at her daughter. “I’m sure she did, though.”

I nodded. As Nona had said earlier, Jannine was a great believer in keeping the peace. “Do you think Eddie might have been involved with another woman?”

Nona laughed self-consciously. “Goodness, Kali, do you think
I’d
know something like that?”

I looked at her levelly, and she sighed. “I suppose it’s possible. Eddie always did have a tendency to cast himself in the leading role. He was a good man, but I don’t think he was ever as devoted to Jannine as she was to him. There was a restlessness about him I never understood.” She smiled thinly. “But then, I’ve never had a great deal of luck trying to understand men, or marriage.”

That made two of us.

“I’m going to take the kids home,” Nona said, after a moment. “Would you mind giving Jannine a ride when she’s ready?”

I gave Nona a hug, mumbled a few words of encouragement, and promised I wouldn’t let Marlene and Mrs. Langley smother Jannine with their compassion and good intentions. Then I went off in search of food and refreshment.

There was an abundance of the former, a wide assortment of crustless sandwiches, nut breads and cookies, but a rather limited offering when it came to the latter. Coffee, tea and a sickly pink punch. It was nothing like the last of these affairs I’d attended, the funeral of my firm’s founding father, where there’d been so much heavy drinking the widow had had to call cabs for half her guests. Maybe Mrs. Langley had been to a few funerals like that herself, or maybe this was simply the way church ladies in Silver Creek did things. Still, decorum aside, I could have used a real drink.

Instead, I settled for tea with lots of sugar. It was a poor substitute, and a silly choice for a hot afternoon. My body temperature skyrocketed with the first sip. From the looks of it, Nancy had made the same mistake. She was standing by an open window, fanning herself with her free hand.

“Whew,” she said when I’d finally threaded my way through the crowd to her side of the room, “what a day for a funeral.”

“Quite a turnout, though.”

“Amazing, isn’t it? I don’t think I even
know
this many people. There are some fairly big guns here, too. Look, over there with Jack Peterson, that’s Franklin Mooney, the CEO of Sierra Hospital and one of the big local contributors to the Republican Party.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“His son was our star quarterback a few years ago. And see that blonde woman with them? That’s Lora Mulford, Jerry Mulford’s wife.”

“Who’s Jerry Mulford?”

“The developer. You know, Mulford and Banks, they’re the ones putting in those posh new planned communities — everything you need for authentic ‘executive living.’ Peterson doesn’t miss an opportunity, does he? Out there pressing flesh, rounding up support, even at a good friend’s funeral. Though he did announce yesterday that the school is setting up a trust fund for Eddie’s family. You can bet he got a lot of press out of it, too.”

“I take it you’re not one of his supporters?”

“Me?” She laughed. “Hardly. Oh, he’s okay as a principal, though he’s a bit of a prig. And he’s barely got the brains to keep one jump ahead of the students. I shudder to think that he might have a hand in running the state.” She shuddered, to show me she meant it. “Speaking of students, I checked on Cheryl Newcomb. Nobody’s seen her all week, and she doesn’t take drama. Never has. I told Peterson about it first thing this morning, but he kind of brushed it aside. Like I said, the man can’t focus on too many things at once.”

“Will he call the police?”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t count on it. But I also put in a call to the county office of Attendance and Welfare. I’m sure they won’t let it drop. Though to be honest, there’s not a lot anyone can do. We’ve had other kids run away. Usually it’s a matter of waiting until they come back of their own accord.”

One of the church ladies came by with a tray of miniature cheese puffs, each topped with a red pimento. When Nancy and I both declined, she looked crestfallen. “You’re sure?” she asked. “I made them myself.”

We were sure, we told her. They looked divine, but we were both on diets.

Nancy looked at her watch. “I’d better get going. Canceled classes or not, the final pages for the yearbook are due at the printers first thing Monday morning. I’ve got kids at school right now proofing and making last minute changes.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “This yearbook is more trouble than all my other classes combined.” Nancy wandered off looking for a place to deposit her tea cup, and I went to check on Jannine, who looked ready to wilt but insisted she was just fine.

“Half an hour longer,” I said, “then I’m taking you out of here. Anyone who hasn’t said their condolences by then can send you a card.”

Just as I was leaving, Marlene bustled up with a fresh glass of punch for Jannine and another of her reassuring little hand pats. Giving comfort was apparently one of her specialties.

Across the room, Jack Peterson was exchanging a hearty handshake with a portly, well-manicured older gentleman. I eased in behind them and waited until the older man had moved on.

“Your wife has done a wonderful job with this,” I told him. “It was good of her to take it on.”

He smiled. “She’s a born organizer.”

“I’ve been trying to get a chance to talk with you,” I said, stepping away from the woman behind me, whose handbag bounced against my back. “About Eddie’s death. I was hoping you might have some ideas.”

“Me?”

“You were a friend of his. If there was anything troubling him, or if he was involved in anything unpleasant
”

Jack interrupted. “Please. This is a funeral.”

“Maybe I could set up an appointment for tomorrow then.”

“You’d have to check with the school secretary. I don’t think there’s much I can tell you, though. My conversations with Eddie tended to be more of a philosophical nature.”

“What
about?”

Once again I was interrupted, this time by the minister. He held out a hand to Jack, then clasped Jack’s shoulder with his other hand. I turned and left.

I grabbed a cookie, shaped and decorated like a football, and went off to join Eddie's sister, Susie, who was holding a glass of punch against her forehead and scanning the room with her eyes.

“Damn Al anyway,” she said. “He was the one who was so anxious to leave, and now I can’t find him anywhere. He’s probably found himself a TV somewhere and gone into hibernation. Either that, or he’s off dreaming about how he’s going to spend ‘our’ inheritance.”

It sounded like A1 was as much fun in the flesh as he was on the phone. “You settled things with your uncle, then?” I asked.

She snorted. “In a manner of speaking. You know what that creep did? Not only did he renege on the couple thousand, he
lowered
 
his basic offer. Twenty grand total for Eddie’s share and mine!”