Chapter 10

I stood off to the side of the dining room, smiling when people met my eye, and nodding my head softly. It was another page out of Dad’s book. He was always present in the small gatherings we hosted, but he never made himself the center of attention. As I was remembering him in his suit, his hands clasped in front of his waist, and friendly but appropriate smile on his face as he watched the mourners, my mother flew into the dining room, her face twisted into anguish as she cornered Tiffany’s mother.

I had to fight to keep from rolling my eyes as my mom slipped her arms around the other woman, and held her close. She patted the back of Tiffany’s mother’s head as she forced her face into her bosom.

“I can’t get over this,” my mother wailed. “What a good, sweet girl she was. She went to my church! It just isn’t fair. If there’s anything you need, anything at all…”

It was obvious that my mother hadn’t learned anything from my father when it came to the gatherings. She had never done anything like this when he was alive, but now with him gone, she figured she had full run of the place. My father had explained over and over to her that the best in the business made their clients feel as though they weren’t there, while remaining available should the clients need anything.

I hurried over to the two women and put my hand on my mother’s arm. “Mom, I need your help with something,” I said.

My mother glared at me. Her thin mouth parted and she practically hissed at me when she spoke. “Can’t you see I’m consoling this poor woman? Can’t it wait?”

“Mom, I really need your help,” I said. “I can’t do it by myself.” I knew that if I played up to my mother’s sense of superiority, she would come with me. I was right. She stepped back from the other woman in a flash.

“Please excuse me,” my mother said, and she turned to follow me out of the dining room. There were people all over the funeral home, so I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

“I knew your father made a mistake,” my mother started. “What can I help you with?”

“I lied,” I said.

Her face contorted. “Lied?” she asked. “Why would you do a thing like that, Laurel?”

“I’m sorry,” I lied again. “I just thought you were being a bit overbearing in there. That woman lost her daughter, and you were practically holding her hostage.”

“I was comforting her!” my mother said way too loudly, sending three birds that had been sitting in a shrub in the front yard shooting into the air.

“I know, but that’s not our job,” I said.

My mother waved her hand at me. “Oh, you’re too much like him,” she said, implying that I was too much like my father.

“Mom, if they need something, they’ll ask,” I said in a soothing tone.

“Oh hush, Laurel,” my mother said. “I can’t believe you’re so ungrateful.”

I sighed. I knew she wasn’t taking me seriously. My father had been able to keep her reined in, but she didn’t see me as an equal. I was an adult, but I figured that was just how child-parent relationships worked. The problem was that I was now her boss. She held the mother card over me, but this was my business now. And that put me in a very awkward position.

“Mom, please leave her alone. I’m trying to keep this place running the same way that Dad ran it.”

My mother looked at me, and I could see she was having an inner debate, trying to figure out if she wanted to argue with me. Thankfully, she decided not to pursue the matter, and simply frowned. “I’ll go make more coffee.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I watched her go. Just as I reached for the doorknob, a voice called out behind me.

“Hey, Laurel, hold on a minute.”

I spun around to see Tara hurrying up to the porch, her car parked at the curb behind her.

“Hey, I didn’t even notice you pull up,” I said, but it was obvious that Tara wasn’t in a chit chat mood.

“Is this Tiffany’s thing?” she asked, motioning to the other cars.

I nodded. “Her funeral was earlier, and the family and mourners are inside having tea and coffee,” I said.

“Okay, I won’t stay. I’m sure you’re busy, but I have something to tell you.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Well, I know you were doing a bit of digging into this, the case, or whatever we’re calling it, the murder. Duncan mentioned that the detectives had gotten Tiffany’s phone records back, and she had been talking to her boss a lot. Like, a lot.” Tara stopped talking to me and looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

“She did work for him,” I said, somewhat unimpressed.

Tara frowned. “Yes, but how often do you call your boss?”

“I am the boss,” I said, smiling.

“Well, before you moved back here. Did you call your boss?”

I shook my head. She did have a point. “I didn’t have his private number,” I said.

“Right,” Tara said, clearly pleased with herself. “And this was his personal cell phone, not even his work cell. He had two.”

I bit my fingernail. “Did Duncan say what the detectives are going to do?”

“He only said they’ll speak to her boss. Is her boss here?”

I shook my head. “He went to the funeral, but he and his wife didn’t come back here after. It’s mostly just family now.”

Tara nodded. “All right. I should go, but it’s certainly something to think about, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yes, it sure is something to think about.”

Tara hurried off, and once more I turned to the door, and once more I was interrupted. Tiffany was standing right in front of the door. “Can we speak?” she asked.

I looked around quickly. “In the house,” I said. “I don’t want someone seeing me talking to the air.”

We walked across the lawn together. I opened the front door and stepped in, needlessly holding the door open for the dead girl to enter before I shut it. “I can’t be too long,” I said.

Tiffany sighed. “I know. I was in there. It hurt seeing my mom so upset.”

“How come you didn’t go to the funeral?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

“I don’t know. It was just too weird, I guess. I might regret it some day, but for now, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t go.”

I cut straight to the point. “So, I’d like to ask you about your boss.”

Tiffany nodded. I saw at once that she looked guilty. “Were you were having an affair with him?”

Tiffany looked away and nodded again. “Well, he was having an affair with me. I’m not married, so I don’t know if that can be called me having an affair.” Her tone was defiant.

“You have a boyfriend,” I said gently, “but hey, I’m not judging. I’m trying to solve your murder.” We had moved into the living room. I was sitting on the couch, and Tiffany was still standing, near the doorway of the room.

“Had a boyfriend,” she said sadly. “My boyfriend cheated on me. Well, I think he was cheating on me. There was a girl he met at our church. He said they were just friends, but I wasn’t so sure. I would see him texting on his phone, but he wouldn’t tell me who he was talking to, and sometimes he’d get calls and leave the room and stuff. It was just weird.” She stopped and took a deep breath, or at least that’s how it seemed to me, as I didn’t think that ghosts could breathe.

“I was sure he was cheating on me, and it made me mad,” she continued after a moment. “My boss is just a nice guy. I don’t know. I know he’s older, but he’s so handsome and he always made me feel good, and it just happened. His wife didn’t know. I wanted my boyfriend to find out, though. I guess I wanted him to be hurt. I wanted him to be jealous, but I don’t think he ever found out. I left my phone around. I wanted him to pick it up and go through my texts, but he never did. He just didn’t care, I guess. And I wanted him to ask me to marry him, but he never did. I think I really messed up.”

Tiffany was crying, her phantom tears bright and silver, almost shining. I wasn’t sure if she could wipe them away, and she didn’t make an effort to do so. She kept talking. “And I was embarrassed. I know I should’ve told you about all of this before, but I just couldn’t. It was embarrassing. I know you’re trying to help me, and I wasn’t up front with you. I just… I go to church, you know? I messed up, and it’s embarrassing. I keep saying that, but it’s true.”

She looked at me. I didn’t know what to say. The whole story was sad. I was searching for the right words when Tiffany spoke again. “You should go back,” she said. “I’m going to go somewhere else. I need some time.”

I nodded and watched her float out of the living room, by way of the far wall. I stood and took a minute to gather my thoughts, and then I headed for the door. As I walked across the yard, back to the funeral home, I saw two people talking over by the side of the building. One was Danny, Tiffany’s boyfriend, and the other was a young woman. They were talking and laughing, and it was obvious to me that they were flirting.

I was most upset. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. I didn’t. I simply moved around the corner. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yes,” Danny said, winking at the girl. “We’re just getting some air.”

“Tiffany was your girlfriend, right?” I said. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

By the look on the girl’s face, I could tell she didn’t know that Danny had been dating Tiffany.

“You were dating Tiffany? You’re disgusting,” she said. She slapped Danny and hurried for the front of the funeral home. Danny glared at me and rubbed his cheek, and then he followed the girl.

As I made my way back to the funeral home, I thought about Tiffany. I still was no closer to figuring out who had killed her. Danny was still my number one suspect, but Tiffany’s boss had certainly risen a few notches. Maybe his wife had come close to figuring things out, and he needed to clean up the loose ends. I shook my head. No, people weren’t like they were on TV, or in the movies. You didn’t just kill someone, right? Just to get what you wanted?

No, that was a foolish thought. The only concrete thing I actually knew was that someone had murdered Tiffany. I just didn’t know how to go about uncovering who it was. I didn’t even know their motive. Nevertheless, I was determined. I wanted Tiffany to have closure.

I sighed, and then walked back into the funeral home.