As Gianna drove toward the police station, she chatted gaily about the new words that Alex had learned to speak. I made appropriate replies and tried to be attentive but was lost in my own little world.
Was there someone else who'd been involved in Eddie's murder that I hadn't accounted for? Another person who had access to the building and also performed embalming? The scenario had me baffled. Someone had poisoned a well-respected mortician, embalmed him, and then placed him in one of his own coffins. Before they could dispose of the body, they'd taken off and left him in his funeral home, where my father had been the one to stumble upon the body. He must have interrupted the killer before they could finish the job. The killer must have known there were no wakes scheduled for that day and assumed they were in the clear.
Or had they meant for Eddie to be found like that? Was the killer trying to frame someone else, like Charlene? And what about Terry, Linda and Eddie's son? Could he have come home and killed his father? But what was his motive? England was only seven hours away by plane. Although Terry was out of the country, he couldn't be discounted.
"You're awful quiet," Gianna said observed. "Everything okay?"
I pulled out my phone and dashed off a message to my father, asking if he could try to reach Terry again. "Fine. But I'm not convinced Charlene did this. Doesn't it seem a little too obvious to leave cyanide in your makeup table? As far as I know, it doesn't cover blemishes."
Gianna almost smiled. "After what I see in the courtroom daily, nothing surprises me anymore."
"Not to put you on the spot, but is there any way I could talk to Charlene as well?"
"You know better than that." Gianna scolded me like I was a five-year-old.
Hey, it had been worth a shot. I said nothing further as she pulled her car into the adjoining lot next to the one-story, gray brick building. I'd visited the police station several times over the past few years—actually, too many to count. The last time I'd been here, Brian had joked about getting me my own parking space.
I tried another tactic. "If Charlene doesn't mind, would it be okay then?"
Gianna's brown eyes narrowed as she shut the engine off. "Sal, it nulls the attorney-client privilege. I'd never agree to anything like that."
"But if she agreed, you'd be okay?" I persisted.
"Yes, but I would never ask her. And why would she agree to it when she barely knows you? The whole thing is unethical. I couldn't get behind something like that. You know I believe in total honesty."
"Well, you did ask Chantal to come to the bakery, and you weren't exactly truthful about it," I reminded her.
Gianna lowered her eyelashes and sighed. "You're right. I'm a hypocrite. A dishonest attorney."
"No, you're not! I was only teasing. Besides, you had your reasons."
Her face was grim. "I need that woman out of my house before I go insane." She slammed the car door with renewed force. "What kind of attorney am I? What example am I setting for my son? Will I turn the other cheek every time my child does something wrong?"
Good grief. "Gi, I didn't mean to sentence you to a lifetime of remorse. If this is going to upset you, I'll stay out front. Promise."
She sighed and linked her arm through mine as we walked into the station. "If you can get Brian and Charlene to agree, it's all right by me."
Brian was in conversation with the man stationed behind the front desk when we arrived. He spotted us and immediately walked over. "Thanks for coming, Gianna. I'll bring Charlene into the interrogation room, where you can chat with her privately."
"Brian," I interrupted. "Is there any chance—"
"Forget it," he snapped and turned away.
So much for that. Resigned, I sat down on the hard, wooden bench that was located against the wall while Gianna looked at me sympathetically. "Sorry, Sal."
"No worries. Maybe you can find out if she and Eddie really were carrying on."
"I thought you said she denied it."
"Yes, but there's always a chance she's lying." I snapped my fingers. "Hey, could you get your hands on a copy of Eddie's will?"
Gianna looked doubtful. "Has it been read?"
"No. Not until sometime this afternoon."
She frowned. "I wouldn't be able to check it out until it's a public record. We don't even know if it has to go through probate. If there's still money owing on the funeral home, that's a given. Do you know who the attorney or executor is?"
"Linda said his name is Roger Dudley."
"Oh, sure. I know Roger. We've been in court together a few times. I'll contact him. He may give me some information after it's been read."
While we were speaking, a door down the hall opened, and Charlene came into view. She was dressed in a hunter green shirt and matching pants with her wrists cuffed in front of her. Brian had placed a hand under her elbow and guided her toward the interrogation room. Charlene's eyes locked on me and then Gianna. She exhaled sharply, as if she'd been holding that one breath for an eternity. Brian didn't even glance our way. After a few seconds, he reappeared in the doorway and motioned to Gianna. He closed the door after she'd entered.
"Don't you have to stay in there with them?" I asked.
He shook his head. "She's allowed to have a private talk with her attorney. Besides, we have visual monitoring without audio."
The door to the interrogation room reopened, and Gianna gestured at Brian. "Can I have a word with you?"
He walked over while I shot off a text to Josie, letting her know I'd be back at the bakery within the hour. She responded right away, saying Dodie was there and they'd be okay until I returned.
Brian came back over to me, shaking his head in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "It appears that Charlene has requested your presence. Gianna swears she had nothing to do with it."
"Are you serious?"
"Unfortunately, yes," he said dryly. "For some odd reason, Charlene believes you can help her too."
"I'll do my best." Before Brian could say anything further, I rose from the bench and walked into the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. Gianna motioned for me to sit at the table next to her.
Charlene stared at me with a somber expression. She looked like she'd aged since the last time I'd seen her. There were strands of gray in her hair I was certain hadn't been there before.
"I didn't do it," she blurted out. "You both have to believe me. I adored Eddie."
Gianna's face was unreadable as she tapped a ballpoint pen on the table. "Who could have planted the cyanide in your room?"
"Anyone. The door is never locked. I supposed a mourner could have come in, but that's doubtful. You have to believe me," she insisted. "I never would have hurt Eddie."
"The last time I spoke to you when Josie was with me, you asked us to leave your work area," I remarked. "You became upset when she asked if you were carrying on with him."
The room grew silent, and I found myself wondering if Brian was watching us.
It seemed like an eternity before Charlene spoke again. "We weren't carrying on. I would have liked to, but he rejected my advances. I tried to get him to kiss me once in his office. Linda walked in while I had my arms around him."
That explained why Linda thought they'd been having an affair. "What happened then?"
"She said I was a tramp." Charlene's nostrils flared. "Linda and Eddie started arguing, and she called us both filthy names. I was terrified and ran out of there. The next day, when I showed up for work, Eddie said it would be best if we kept our distance. He started acting very strange, but not only to me. He was that way around everyone." Charlene threw her shoulders back in defiance. "I know he was twenty years older than me, but I didn't care. Age is just a number."
"No one's judging you about that. But he was a married man," I said.
"Yes but not happily," Charlene sniffed.
Gianna had her lawyer face on, devoid of emotion. "If I'm going to help you, Charlene, you need to be honest with me."
Charlene's cuffs clanked against the table as she clasped her hands together. "I'm telling you the truth. Someone else killed him, and my money is on Arthur. He planted the cyanide in my room and is getting what he's always wanted now that Linda is selling him the funeral home."
"Do all of the employees know how to embalm?" I asked.
She thought for a moment. "Arthur does, of course, and Wally. But not Linda. Zach used to do it for his former employer, I believe."
"How long ago was it that Linda caught you and Eddie together?" Gianna asked.
"A few days before he died." Charlene bit into her lower lip. "I was positive Linda would tell Eddie to fire me, but nothing ever came of it. She chose to ignore me instead. Then again, she was always good at that. I know she was jealous of me."
Gianna changed the subject. "Did you know about the funeral home having financial problems?"
"Someone mentioned it to me," Charlene said. "But I'm not really sure how that's possible. The place is popular, so that never really made sense."
"People have complained about jewelry being stolen off the deceased," Gianna explained. "Their loved ones."
Charlene's jaw went slack. "How horrible. I'd never dream of doing something like that."
"But you had access to the jewelry?" I persisted.
She shook her head. "Personal possessions are always the first thing to be removed—before embalming, before anything. I've done embalming, but only in situations where no one else was available. The body doesn't come to my station until afterward. I can't believe Eddie would do something like that. He was an honest man."
Someone was lying, but who? I was certain that the families who'd brought the claims against the funeral home were telling the truth. Gianna had said there was more than one pending.
"May I ask a question?" Charlene asked timidly.
Gianna nodded. "Of course."
"When can I get out on bail? I'm not going to have to spend the night here, am I?"
Gianna's face was sympathetic. "I'm afraid so. This isn't a misdemeanor. You've been charged with murder. You'll have to go before a judge."
Charlene looked panicked. "I can't stay here!" she wailed.
"I'll do my best to get you out as soon as possible," Gianna promised. "Now is there anything else you care to tell me?"
Charlene paused to consider. "The day before Eddie disappeared, I went to his office to ask him about ordering some supplies since we were getting low. He was sitting behind his desk staring into space. This was weird because he was always doing something. The man was never idle. He didn't look well, and at first, I thought he was sick. So, I asked him what was wrong, but he said nothing."
"And then?" Gianna prompted.
She swallowed nervously. "Eddie always downplayed everything. He never wanted anyone to worry about him. He was the consummate professional, always concerned for everyone else. His clients, staff, and family. Sure, he was tight with the buck, but we all knew that was just his way. That day was different. Eddie didn't act like himself. He looked like he'd just lost his best friend. Even the piece of paper he was holding in his hand was shaking."
"Did you happen to see what it was?" I asked curiously.
Charlene shook her head. "It looked like a legal document, but I couldn't say for sure. When I came closer, he shoved it into his desk. Then he told me to leave and acted kind of nasty about it too. It upset me so I quickly left the room. A few minutes later, I remembered that I'd totally forgotten to ask him about the supplies. Eddie was on his cell and had his back to me. He sounded like he was crying."
Gianna and I exchanged a puzzled glance. "Did you catch any of the conversation?" she asked.
Charlene wrinkled her brow and stared into space. "It was something like 'I saw it.' No wait—'I found it.' Then he asked the person on the other end, 'How could you do this to me?'"