The following morning…
A light sprinkle of fall rain fell from the heavens as we entered the cemetery and made our way toward the gathering at the gravesite. Gamma and I walked arm-in-arm, both wearing our best black outfits—that weren’t spy gear. My grandmother had opted for a classy black fascinator with a black lace veil that partially obscured her penetrating blue-eyed gaze.
She could scan the funeral goers without worrying about being seen.
I had opted for a regular black dress and a pair of tights. It was nippier today than it usually was during fall, but it suited the somber mood. Several black umbrellas lifted over the heads of guests.
We stopped to one side of the gravesite, keeping away from the crowd so we could gauge the behavior of the attendees.
“There’s Mrs. Knowles,” I whispered.
“And her husband.”
The two stood side-by-side, Mr. Knowles with one arm around his wife’s shoulders though he looked as if he’d rather be cuddling with a slimy octopus.
Mrs. Sarah-Lin Knowles wept softly into her handkerchief, showing grief that, quite frankly, had to be fake. The way the woman had talked about being inconvenienced by Julia’s death spoke more to her true character than a few crocodile tears.
Ethan stood silent, a few paces from them, stiff-backed. His eyes were red-rimmed and unfocused, staring past the reverend.
Other attendees included the best man, Mr. Hodges, who lounged near the back of the group, holding an umbrella and looking eternally bored, as well as the bridesmaids, including the mouthy maid-of-honor, Sasha, and the sweet, blonde Bella.
There were a few local Gossipers who had come to pay their respects, though Julia hadn’t bothered inviting them to her wedding.
“What do we think?” I asked. “See any strange men who might’ve been having an affair with Julia?”
“No,” Gamma replied, instantly. “Though, Brad Walker is here. Violet’s son. He was an infamous lothario in high school. Apparently, he’s settled down with BeeBee Charles, but the jury’s out on how long that particular engagement will last.”
“Is he worth checking out?”
“Not unless there’s a real reason to do so,” Gamma said. “Make a note of his behavior and nothing more.”
The funeral proceeded, the reverend leading everyone in prayer as well as reading out verses that Ethan had selected.
Then came a few speeches.
“She will be missed,” Mrs. Knowles said, clutching her handkerchief to her nose, though her eyes were as dry as the Sahara desert. “Our dear Julia was such a special girl. My only regret is that she never joined our family before this happened.”
Her only regret? She doesn’t regret that Julia died?
“We worked closely on her wedding preparations before the end, and it is such a tragedy that she passed before she could enjoy the fruits of that labor.”
“Mother,” Ethan said, in his grating tones. “That’s enough.”
“Please, let me finish, Ethan. This is a time to celebrate Julia’s life.”
“Nobody’s buying it,” her son replied. “We all know you hated her.”
Uh oh. This ought to be explosive.
“That’s a horrendous thing to say! Especially on a day like this. Julia and I had our differences, but we never—”
“Shut up, mother!” Ethan yelled.
A chorus of gasps came from the mourners.
“Mr. Knowles,” Mrs. Knowles said, “control your son.”
“You’re not dragging me into this.”
“Stop, please, you’re upsetting everyone,” Bella, the blonde bridesmaid, cried.
But the two wouldn’t be stopped.
“I won’t stand for you interrupting me, Ethan,” the mother said. “I have been nothing but nice to Julia since we met.”
Even Mr. Knowles snorted at that claim.
“You’re a liar,” Ethan said. “You treated Julia with disrespect. With hatred, even. All you wanted to do was—”
Bella let out a sob and fled from the funeral party, rushing toward the distant cemetery gates. Mr. Knowles backed away from the argument as well, turned and headed off in the same direction.
Interesting. Why would Mr. Knowles be worried about Bella’s reaction to the argument?
“Be right back,” I whispered to Gamma, and slipped my arm from hers.
I tailed the pair to the gates of the cemetery and stopped behind a tree, stalking them like they were prey.
My eyes widened.
Bella was in Mr. Knowles’ arms. The older man patted her back as she wept against his chest, shaking her head occasionally. The drizzle turned to rain, and any chance I had of overhearing them rapidly dwindled.
Mr. Knowles and Bella stayed arm-in-arm for a while before he finally released her, gave her a final word of encouragement, and headed back into the cemetery. Thankfully, he was so focused on the path he didn’t notice me hovering behind the tree like a stalker.
Bella remained outside in the parking area, wiping her face as the rain came down. She didn’t make an attempt to shield herself from the droplets.
She started back up the path.
I stepped out from behind the tree, and Bella gave a cry and clasped both hands to her stomach.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she breathed, in that breathy, soft voice. “You scared me senseless.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Alone? Why? Who are you again?”
“I’m Charlotte,” I replied. “From the inn? I served you breakfast this morning.”
“Oh right,” she said. “Everything was fine.”
“I’m not here to talk to you about the eggs,” I replied. “Ethan hired me to find out who murdered Julia. I wondered if you knew anything about what happened.
“K-knew anything?” Bella trembled on the spot. “No, I don’t know anything about that. Why would you think I—”
“What were you and Mr. Knowles talking about?” I asked.
Bella’s shaking grew worse. “About the argument up there. I found it very disturbing. I don’t think it’s respectful of Julia's memory for them to argue like that. In fact, it’s downright disgusting. They’re hijacking her funeral to air their grievances.”
“And you were hugging Mr. Knowles because…”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”
“That you two looked awfully cozy.” I was using direct confrontation for a reason. Bella had nearly crumbled after her confrontation with Sasha, the maid-of-honor, earlier in the week. She was conflict-averse.
“I-I—”
“Yes?”
“He’s a good friend. Mr. Knowles has always been like a father to me. Ever since I became friends with Julia and Ethan, he’s been a solid presence in my life. He’s a wonderful person who’s always willing to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on.”
Unless it was for his wife.
“If you’re really so worried about what happened to Julia, maybe you should talk to Sasha,” Bella continued, anger lacing her tone, “she was the last one who saw her before the wedding. We left them together in the dressing room. She was probably the one who made Julia cry.” And with that kernel of information dropped at my feet, she rushed back up the path.
Sasha had been the last one in the dressing room with Julia? Could she be the one who’d given Julia that poisoned custard slice?