Adventures in Funeral Crashing (12 page)

“What are you doing?” I whispered before I
had time to think about what I was saying. I mean, what was wrong
with me? My stomach was doing excited flips. Ethan Ripley was not
only holding my hand, he seemed into it!

“Oh, sorry, just trying to look like a
couple,” Ethan whispered back a second later, and fell back into
just holding my hand in his.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, I scolded myself.
What was wrong with me? I should just take what I could get. Would
I ever learn to just go with it? Okay, I needed to go back to
listening now.

It had to have been almost an hour since we
arrived at the wake and my butt was falling asleep. It was more of
the same for the last hour. Nothing interesting had happened. Most
people were talking about the shock of it all. Nobody could believe
Vanessa was gone.

People had come and gone, but I had spent the
last twenty minutes listening to who I thought was Vanessa’s
elderly aunt, prattling on about all her ailments. She had started
with her arthritis and was now complaining about a pain in her
lower back when she walked. She was going to see the doctor next
week.

Troy Matthews had not made an appearance yet,
if he was even going to. We didn’t know exactly what his
relationship was with Vanessa anyway. If he wasn’t expected to be
there, he had good reason not to show up. I still hoped he
would.

There was a couple of younger women, probably
Vanessa’s friends, wandering around in groups, but nobody odd or
out of the ordinary. They all seemed normal enough. We had tried to
make conversation with one group of them when they sat down next to
us, but it was short lived – one of them kept tearing up and within
minutes her friend had to lead her out of the room. It was really
awkward and completely heartbreaking. They hadn’t come back, so
Ethan and I sat back down in our chairs.

Now, the old woman I had been eavesdropping
on or Aunt Eileen, as the man next to her was calling her, was
complaining about her stomach, “And, I just can’t handle coffee
anymore. It makes me sick. They couldn’t have brought some 7-Up for
me?”

Her companion was nodding and he was probably
wishing he was somewhere else. My stomach growled. I was starving.
Lunch seemed like a zillion years ago.

“Are you hungry?” I whispered to Ethan, whose
eyes had glazed over.

“Hungry?” He whispered back, snapping out of
the bored zone he had fallen into.

His hand was still holding mine. I hoped it
wasn’t sweaty or anything, my hand, that is. Even if his was, I
could have held his hand forever if he’d have let me, “Yeah, my
stomach is grumbling. Let’s go check out the food.”

“Food?” Ethan asked, as I pulled him toward
the door, exiting the room.

There was almost always a room, from a
kitchen to a living-type room, where some kind soul had brought
cookies and other snacks. There was usually at least tea and coffee
too, if not soda and water. I had been to this funeral home before
and I knew there was a kitchen/dinette area right next to the
restrooms.

Ethan followed me there in silence. This was
a spot where people felt free to mingle and talk and it could be
the best place for us to get some clues from Vanessa’s friends and
family, but it was also going to mean that we’d have to talk to
people and risk getting caught. Still, there was food and I was
starving. We had already claimed to be only Vanessa’s acquaintances
when we were talking to the girls in the other room. They had
bought it. Hopefully, Vanessa’s relatives would buy it too, if they
spoke to us. I knew in all likelihood that they would, but there
was always that small chance that freaked me out.

The kitchen/dinette area was crowded with
people talking, eating cookies, and drinking coffee and tea. It had
to be around 6 pm by now and dinnertime. Some people had probably
been there all day, so it was prime snack time. I hadn’t eaten
since Ethan and I had lunch fifth period. I was starving. I glanced
at Ethan, who must also have been hungry the way his eyes lit up at
the sight of the snacks.

Ooo, they had cookies! There was chocolate
chip, peanut butter, and snickerdoodles – heaven! I moved
ravenously toward them and my butt was finally feeling blissfully
awake. Thank goodness elderly Aunt Eileen and I weren’t going to
have any common ailments to talk about – I’m sure she had a thing
or two to say about her butt, if she was asked.

I grabbed a plate and was starting to fill it
with the yummy goodness known as peanut butter cookies, until I
felt Ethan’s body go completely rigid next to me. I looked up,
followed his gaze, and almost dropped my cookies because standing
next to the coffee pot, refilling her styrofoam cup of coffee and
adding cubes of sugar, was the dead girl, Vanessa Martin.

I blinked
twice. I blinked again. She was still there. It took me a good
sixty seconds to rationalize why it couldn’t possibly be Vanessa
Martin standing by the coffee pot getting a refill. I mean, come
on, we weren’t in a world like that book
Pride and Prejudice and
Zombies
for goodness sake. I had read that book a few weeks ago
because one of my all time favorite books was
Pride and
Prejudice
and I thought it was hilarious to find out someone
had thrown zombies into the classic. Not that zombies drink coffee.
They eat brains and the look-alike Vanessa was definitely drinking
coffee and not eating brains. And, come on, if Vanessa Martin was
alive and well, why the hell were we having a funeral?

No, no, no. She had to be Vanessa Martin’s
sister. A twin sister by the freaked out expression that Ethan had
on his face and I know had been matched on mine for the last
minute. It wasn’t like we could ask anyone – ‘Hey, why does that
girl look like Vanessa Martin?’ either. It would totally give us
away, hook, line, and super duper sinker, as in sinking to the
bottom of the ocean.

Ethan was still staring, even though I had
dropped my gaze back to the cookies on my plate. They were still
there, alive and well. Phew. I looked back at Ethan, who was still
gazing at the girl. I grabbed Ethan by the arm and led him to the
other side of the kitchenette, near the doorway.

“Stop staring,” I whispered as quietly as I
could, hoping nobody was eavesdropping on us.

“But she looks just like her,” Ethan spoke
softly, tearing his gaze away to look at me.

“She has to be a twin or at the very least
her sister,” I rationalized. “I don’t believe in identical cousins
or people rising from the dead, at least outside of books and
movies.”

“It freaked me out for a second though,”
Ethan admitted and noticing my plate of cookies, grabbed one. “I
thought I was seeing things.”

“Me too. Here, hold this. I’m gonna find
out,” I said and handed Ethan my whole plate of cookies, as I
headed toward Vanessa’s twin.

As I came toward her, she was talking to a
balding man in his late fifties. I reached for the coffee pot as I
tried to listen in on their conversation.

“But, Jenna, do you think you’ll be able to
finish out the semester? Things were finally going so well for you,
I don’t think you should push yourself too hard,” He sounded
concerned.

“Don’t worry about me, Uncle Bob. I’ll be
fine. I thrive under pressure,” Jenna said, sipping her coffee and
looking around.

I had poured myself a full cup and looked to
stall, so I reached for the powdered creamer. I also added sugar
cubes. I wanted to keep listening for at least another minute or
two longer.

“You pushed yourself too hard last time. You
and your sister. Take it easy,” Uncle Bob urged.

“I’ll be fine,” Jenna said again, and feigned
a look out of the room, “I should go in. Mom will be wondering
where I’m at.”

“But, Jenna…” Uncle Bob started to say, but
Jenna waved him away, already fleeing for the doorway.

I expected her to leave like she said, but
instead I saw Jenna stop just before the exit, to talk to Ethan.
Now, I was staring at her. Actually, I was staring at them. They
almost made a cute couple, but I was actually thinking for a
strange moment that Jenna looked to me like a black widow spider
ready to pounce on Ethan. Still, maybe that was only because a huge
pang of jealousy was coursing through me, watching Jenna talk to
him. That, and Jenna was dressed all in black. I know black widow
spiders also had a splotch of red on them, but whatever.

From this distance, Ethan seemed into her. He
had his arm on the doorway and Jenna was leaning toward him. I knew
I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. Was it possible to feel this
jealous about a guy you had no chance in the world of ever going
out with? Besides, it’s not like Jenna was going to pick up a guy
at her twin sister’s funeral. What kind of a girl did that? I
didn’t want to think about the answer to that question.

Before I could really delve into my jealousy
about a possible Jenna and Ethan coupling, Uncle Bob started to
talk to me, “Be careful, you’re gonna have more sugar than
coffee.”

“Oops,” I had put in a good eight cubes of
sugar into my coffee and although I liked it sweet, that was a
little much. “I like it pretty sweet.”

“How did you know Vanessa?” Uncle Bob
asked.

“My boyfriend’s sister was friends with her.
I didn’t know her too well, but we thought it was sad, so we wanted
to come,” I offered.

“It’s very sad. It’s like the family can’t
get away from tragedy. First their dad. Now this,” Uncle Bob
frowned.

“Oh?” I wondered if Uncle Bob would volunteer
details.

Turned out Uncle Bob liked to gossip, “Their
dad’s in jail. Embezzling, although there were more allegations,
but they were never proven. Nobody ever would have known, except
that he was stupid enough to get caught buying a house for his
mistress, with money he wasn’t supposed to have. Tore the family
apart. My sister went on anti-depressants. We were afraid she would
go insane. They were completely blindsided. The girls had a really
rough time of it. The family all thought the worst had passed,
until…this.”

“Wow, I’m really sorry,” I managed to say and
I meant it. While she was alive Vanessa had been going through a
rough patch. Maybe she really did overdose. In her case it actually
might make sense with that sort of family drama going on.

“What more can happen to this family?” Uncle
Bob asked, but I don’t think he was actually waiting for me to
answer because he continued on. “They really were the cutest little
girls. Their mom always had them in matching outfits and they
absolutely hated it. Vanessa was a tomboy and Jenna loved to wear
pretty dresses. They were so different even though they were twins.
It’s funny how that happens.”

I smiled at his reminiscing. Ah, the
sentimental part of funerals – the stories are the part that really
drew me to them. I loved the real remembrances of a person gone too
quickly. It made me think of my mom. I wish I had more remembrances
of her. If only she was still around…

By the time I managed to tear myself away
from Uncle Bob, who after his brief reminiscing wanted to go on
about how things couldn’t get any worse for the family, Ethan had
eaten most of my cookies, and Jenna was gone, back into the casket
viewing room. I, of course, was interested in Uncle Bob’s
reminiscing, but how could I let Ethan eat all of my cookies?

“I saw you talking to Jenna…” I trailed off
unsure what else to say, as I approached Ethan, grabbed the last
peanut butter cookie off the plate, and devoured it. It was a good
cookie and I was still starving. I dragged Ethan back over to the
table to get some more of them.

“Yeah, she wanted to know how I knew her
sister and we got to talking.” Ethan was grinning, “She’s going to
meet us after the wake at The Pie Shop across the street.”

Had Ethan just asked the grieving sister out
on a date? Didn’t it creep him out that she was also the spitting
image of the deceased? Of course, I had no reason to be jealous of
Jenna. Ethan could ask whomever he wanted to out for pie.

Ethan was looking at me oddly, “What’s wrong?
This is huge! Jenna wants to talk to us about our theories. She
thinks Vanessa could have been murdered too. She wasn’t a hundred
percent sold, but she said it was totally unlike Vanessa to do
heroin.”

“You told her our theory?” I tried to smile
back at Ethan like nothing was wrong. I mean, Jenna was really
pretty, even though she resembled a dead girl and all, and I
couldn’t help but wonder if I was about to become the third wheel
in a murder investigation.

“Well, we started talking and I felt like it
would be okay to tell her,” Ethan explained. “She’s going through
the same thing I am.”

I nodded, still feeling hurt for no reason.
This was actually a great lead. Jenna Martin would have the inside
scoop on Vanessa’s death. I just didn’t want her hitting on
Ethan.

I didn’t have too much time to worry about
Ethan and Jenna having a romantic connection, though, because
Detective Dixon suddenly entered the kitchen/dinette area, heading
straight for the coffee and his favorite thing in the world,
Styrofoam cups. I know I should have felt optimistic, since
Detective Dixon probably didn’t normally show up to an overdose
victim’s funeral and this might be a sign that he was giving the
murder angle we had suggested to him a chance, but I was actually
more concerned that he would interrogate Ethan and I than anything
else. We didn’t exactly belong at this funeral.

I poked Ethan, who had the same reaction as I
did, and we tried to bolt, but unfortunately Detective Dixon saw
us. We managed to make it out to the parking lot, though, before
Detective Dixon caught up to us.

“Just drive away!” I urged Ethan as we ran to
his car, but Ethan stopped and turned instead.