Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1) (16 page)

Twirling in front of the mirror, I decided I was happy with
the outcome. I know it’s probably shallow primping before a funeral, but I
don’t care. Knowing there was a good chance I was going to see Garrett had me
taking a little extra care.

I’d decided on a black, long-sleeved body sheath that went
to my ankles. I adorned it with my silver chain belt to give me definition at
the waist. It was a simple dress with a scooped neckline that showed just
enough cleavage to be decent at a funeral.

I wore my one and only pair of come-fuck-me pumps. They were
shimmery silver with tons of thin straps that crisscrossed over the top of my
foot with one strap crossing behind my ankle. They were perched on top of
three-inch icepick heels. No doubt I was going to kill myself in these at some
point in the day, but at least I’d look damn good when Garrett came to identify
my body. Being a practical girl, I also stuffed a pair of ballet flats in my
purse for when I was doing cleanup after the service.

The church was packed as I parked the Falcon in the
designated parking area. I had thirty minutes to get inside and find Paige. I
hoped she was able to save me a spot, I really didn’t want to pretend to spy on
people standing the whole time. I just don’t have the stamina...especially in
strappy three-inch heels.

The parking lot where the food committee is to park leads
right into the basement of the church. Opening the basement door I walked
straight into the large multi-purpose/kitchen area. This vast room could
comfortably seat about two hundred people. At quick glance I counted almost
thirty tables seating six people each. They were obviously expecting a large
crowd to come downstairs after the memorial service.

I saw Mom arranging food on one of the large kitchen
islands. I waved to her as I meandered around the circular tables to get to
her. She looked beautiful in a black body-hugging dress with a black lace
overlay on the upper bodice. I gave her a quick hug, anxious to get upstairs.

“Put your purse in Mrs. Pratt’s Sunday school room. That’s
where all of us are placing ours,” Mom said.

“Thanks, gotta run,” I said, turning away before I finished
talking. “I’ll see you after the service.” I hurried up the ramp that led to
the sanctuary, stopping halfway up to go into Mrs. Pratt’s room and drop off my
purse. I saw Mom’s purse and jacket. I threw my clutch onto Mom’s stash and
headed back up the ramp.

Before I even neared the to, I could hear the dull murmur of
a mass of people. And over that, the somber notes of organ music playing
“Amazing Grace.” The foyer was packed with myriad people and colorful funeral
flowers. It was a slow process to the sanctuary.

“It’s about damn time,” Aunt Shirley hissed in my ear.

I yelped and clasped my chest. I hadn’t heard nor seen her
approach me. Now twenty people were staring at me.

“Cool your jets,” Aunt Shirley rolled her eyes, “it’s just
me.”

“What are you doing out of your seat? Aren’t you afraid
someone will take it?”
I asked.

“Nope. I’m sitting next to Old Man Jenkins. I told him if he
saved my spot, I’d let him touch my boobs when we got back to the home.”

I literally felt my mouth hanging open.

“Shut your trap, girl…flies will swarm in!” She cackled at
her own joke.

I shut my mouth and prayed to God no one heard her. I looked
around, but no one was paying us any attention anymore.

“Paige is already in there, opposite side of me, one pew
behind. The girl can follow directions. Now,” Aunt Shirley said as she gave me
a shove, “get in there!”

I stumbled and barely caught myself before face-planting on
the carpet. I turned and gave her my best evil eye, but she’d already slipped
through the crowd. Regaining my balance, I made my way to the glass doors that
led into the sanctuary.

Pushing open the doors, I was surprised to see just how
packed the church was. I’d told myself it would be…but physically seeing all
the people was jarring. Young, old, business suits, made up ladies, dressed
down students. It looked like the whole town was here.

A slight exaggeration…but not by much.

The church sanctuary was set up in a traditional one-aisle layout
with interlocking mauve chairs fanning out on each side of the aisle. I can
still remember the uproar the chairs caused years ago. The old wooden pews were
falling apart, the orange carpet-like fabric coverings were torn and nasty
looking. When it became apparent something needed to be done, the church
decided to cast a vote. Some members wanted to buy new pews, some wanted to put
in the interlocking chairs, and some thought the pews in their worn condition
should be good enough.

The chairs won out by a slight margin. There were still some
church members not speaking to each other because of the outcome.

Yep, you heard right. It was years ago, and there were still
members not speaking to each other.

I actually liked the interlocking mauve chairs that lined
the aisle. They were stylish and really soft. And when Pastor Williams got on a
roll some Sunday mornings and preached a long sermon, believe me, you were glad
for the added comfort.

The sanctuary could seat about two hundred people, and right
now almost every seat was taken. Sometimes during the holidays the ushers have
to open the glass doors and set up chairs in the foyer for the overflow. I’m
assuming that’s what they’d have to do today.

Near the altar a huge glossy picture of Dr. Garver sat on an
easel. I was expecting the standard school picture. Instead, it was one of
those cheesy Glamour Shots that were popular years ago. When I say years ago, I
mean
years
ago. Garver appeared twenty years younger in this picture. I
had to assume this was one of her demands...surely her husband didn’t think
this was appropriate.

A smaller easel to the left of the hideous picture cradled a
bulky wreath made of different colored roses. The words “mother” “wife” and
“grandmother” were woven within the wreath. The urn housing Dr. Garver’s ashes
sat on a white pillar next to the wreath.

I saw Paige on my left, four rows up from the back. It must
be that best-friend thing, because she chose that moment to turn around and
make eye contact with me. Motioning me to sit next to her, I carefully made my
way through the feet and legs of those already seated.

“I was beginning to worry,” she said as I finally plopped
down next to her.

“There’s still fifteen minutes left before it starts,” I
said. “Aunt Shirley practically shoved me in here face first.” I crossed my
legs and smoothed my dress.

“Nice shoes,” Paige said, giving me a knowing smile. “Very
subtle.”

I laughed at her comment. Unfortunately I forgot I was at a
funeral and thirty people turned around and stared at me.

Oops!

“I brought a small notepad to jot down notes, just in case,”
Paige said as she showed me the short, spiral-bound tablet.

“Good idea,” I said, practically kicking myself. Why didn’t
I think of that? It’s like I’ll never get the hang of this private eye stuff
sometimes. Even Paige is more prepared.

I tried to make eye contact with Aunt Shirley sitting on the
opposite side of the church, but with so many people it wasn’t possible.

Leaning over to Paige I whispered, “Have you seen anything
or anyone suspicious yet?”

Looking over both shoulders before responding, she leaned in
to whisper in my ear. “I’ve been thinking of what you said about the medical
profession, and so I thought I’d watch Patty Carter and Dr. Powell for sure.”

Exactly what I’d been thinking!

“Although I can’t imagine they’d have anything to do with
this,” she quickly added.

Again...exactly what I’d been thinking!

Coming up with suspects was easy, but actually imagining
them doing it was another story. I’d known both of these people my whole life.
Both of them had never been anything but kind. But then again, rage made you do
crazy things sometimes.

I spotted Doc Powell sitting four rows up from me to my
right. I actually had a good view of his face. As wrong as it was, I couldn’t
help but think he looked good today. Very handsome. I really hoped he didn’t
have anything to do with the murders…I was still pulling for him to get with my
mom.

Patty Carter was harder to find. I stood up, pretending to
smooth down the back of my dress, hoping I could spot her in the crowd. She was
sitting near the front of the church. There was no way I’d be able to see her
throughout the ceremony.

What had she done, gotten here an hour early for that prime
seating?
 

The organ music stopped, signaling the start of the memorial
service. I quickly sat down and watched as Pastor Williams walked down the
aisle, followed by Mr. Garver. His daughter was next in line, her arms linked
through her husband’s, as he led his weeping wife down the aisle. A little girl
in a pink and white ruffled dress was hanging onto her mother’s skirt for dear
life. The Garver’s son brought up the rear of the train.

And just like a train wreck, you couldn’t help but watch,
even though you didn’t want to. I noticed the son didn’t look near as torn up
as his sister. Not that I suspected the son of the murders, but still…it was
odd I thought. Or very telling.

As the family was getting seated and Pastor Williams was
walking to the podium, I kept my eyes on Doc Powell. As Pastor Williams droned
on and on, touting the wonderful attributions of the most hated woman in town,
I tried to think of a reason why Doc Powell would want to kill Dr. Garver.
Outside of the school board, I didn’t think they ran in the same circle. I’m
not sure Dr. Garver even had a circle of friends to run in.

Two songs, a standard funeral mini sermon, and thirty
minutes later, Pastor Williams was finally winding down. I was actually amazed
that outside of the daughter, I really couldn’t see or hear any weeping. It was
quite sad. Almost made me wish I could muster a tear or two. Goodness knows I’d
want some weeping at my funeral.

The organ started up again, signaling the end of the memorial
service. I glanced over at Paige, who’d been scribbling furiously in her
notebook pretty much the whole service. Had she picked up on vibes I hadn’t?

Leaning over to look in her lap, I almost laughed out loud.
She’d been scribbling “Paige Sinclair” all over the paper…just like she’d done
when we were kids. I grinned up at her. Shrugging her shoulders, she closed the
notebook and smiled back at me.

I finally caught sight of Patty Carter’s head as she was
walking down the aisle to exit the service. One good thing about sitting in the
back, you had to wait until the end to be dismissed. I couldn’t help but note
that Patty’s face held no traces of tears. In fact, walking down the aisle,
she’d periodically stop and chat with people…even laughing on occasion.

Guess when your archenemy dies, you can’t help but feel
pretty damn good.

Doc Powell also shuffled past us, head down. I couldn’t tell
how he was doing. I did notice throughout the service that he didn’t seem to
pay the Garvers too much attention. Not more than anyone else, I’d say.

I hoped Aunt Shirley had more than us. I obviously wasn’t
good at judging people and their action.

When it was finally our turn to leave the sanctuary, I
followed my row out to shake hands and exchange hugs with the Garvers. I wasn’t
prepared for the wave of sadness that washed over me when I came face to face
with Professor Garver. I’d always liked him, so knowing he was grieving was
heart wrenching.

I reached up and hugged him. “I’m so sorry for your loss,
Professor.”

A sad smile crossed his face. His eyes were bloodshot and
hollow. “Thank you. It’s a shock what’s happened, even still days later. I’m
just not sure what to do with myself, you know?”

I really didn’t, but I didn’t want to say that to him. “I
know. Is there anything you need?”

“For someone to catch the person that murdered my wife. But
that seems to be a miracle to ask for,” he said, sighing heavily.

I said nothing and moved quickly down the receiving line. It
was even more awkward with the daughter and son. I wasn’t sure what to say, so
I just mumbled my condolences and shuffled on.

When it was finally time to go downstairs to eat, I grabbed
Paige and started looking for Aunt Shirley. I saw her talking with Patty
Carter.

Weaving through the crowd, Paige and I made our way slowly
to them. Patty turned to me and smiled. Correction…she grinned. Her grin was
almost as bright as her outfit. I couldn’t see what she was wearing sitting at
the back of the church, but standing next to her now, I suddenly wished the
ground would open up and swallow me.

There was no mourning black for her. Instead, she wore a
dark blue t-shirt with the words “Today Will Be Amazing” printed on the front
in day-glow yellow. She’d paired it with bright red Cargo pants, and a matching
red jacket over the t-shirt. The only subtle thing on her was the staple all
nurses wear—Dansko clogs. These particular shoes were designed to look like
Jackson Pollock had splattered them.