Chapter 18
The turnout for Caskie Lemon-Hogg’s funeral service at the Congregational church was much larger than Hayley had expected. Hayley’s party alone was made up of seven people including herself, Bruce, Liddy, Mona, and their three mothers. There had been a long, drawn out discussion on whether or not it was appropriate for Sheila, Celeste, and Jane to attend given the ugly scene that had transpired between them and Caskie at the high school reunion party at Drinks Like a Fish, but in the end, it was decided that they should at least have the opportunity to pay their respects despite the bad blood.
Although her mother would never admit it, Hayley also suspected that Sheila was worried about optics. She clearly did not want to be perceived as a heartless enemy of the deceased, thereby fueling speculation that she had been the one who strangled poor Caskie, and so Hayley could tell her mother was working hard as they entered the church to give the impression that she was genuinely grieving over the loss of a dear classmate by mustering up some tears and needing the support of her daughter as she made her way down the aisle to a pew in the middle, not too close to the front. Celeste and Jane, who feared guilt by association, also put on a good show, holding on to each other and bowing their heads solemnly.
Bruce turned to Hayley and whispered in her ear, “You didn’t tell me it was an open casket funeral.”
“I didn’t know,” Hayley whispered back.
“Seeing a dead body freaks me out,” Bruce said, averting his eyes from Caskie’s corpse, which was laid out down in the front of the church.
“How can that be? You’re a crime reporter! You must have seen dozens of them in your long career,” Hayley said, incredulous.
Bruce shook his head. “I’ve always managed to steer clear unless they were already covered up by a sheet. I had this dream as a kid that my grandfather kept looking at me while lying in his casket at his own funeral, and I woke up in a cold sweat. It stuck with me and I haven’t felt comfortable around dead bodies ever since.”
They took their seats in the middle of a pew just past Liddy and Mona while Sheila, Celeste, and Jane sat down at the end of the pew across the aisle from them. Hayley was now between Bruce and Edie Staples, wife of Reverend Staples, the man who would be delivering the sermon.
Edie clutched a Bible and leaned in to Hayley. “Your mother looks wonderful. She hasn’t aged a bit. What’s her secret?”
“I wish I knew. I’d bottle it,” Hayley joked.
“She must be so relieved that the police have arrested Caskie’s killer,” Edie said. “Before they caught Rupert and got him to confess, there was a rumor going around that Sheila might have been the one who—”
Hayley interrupted her. “Rupert didn’t confess.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say, dear?”
“Rupert says he didn’t do it.”
“Oh, well, of course he would say that. Murderers always claim to be innocent . . .” Edie said, shaking her head. “Until the evidence inevitably proves they’re lying . . .”
“What evidence?” Hayley asked.
“I’m sure the police would not have arrested a suspect unless they had enough evidence to make a case in court . . .”
“I haven’t seen any evidence that would convince me beyond a reasonable doubt that Rupert hurt anyone . . .”
Edie was not about to back down from her position. “I heard they have an eyewitness . . .”
“Yes, but witnesses can sometimes be mistaken, and from what I know, there is no physical evidence tying Rupert to the murder . . .”
“Ruth Farrell at the Ladies Auxiliary told me Rupert can’t remember where he was or what he was doing on the night Caskie was strangled!”
“Yes, Rupert tends to drink too much and that makes his memory fuzzy, but that’s not exactly concrete proof that he’s a cold-blooded killer.”
Edie was getting a little miffed that Hayley was so argumentative, especially on this somber occasion. “Well, if you are so certain Rupert has been falsely accused, then who do you think did it? Your mother?”
“I didn’t say that . . .” Hayley sputtered.
Edie gave her a look that said, You might as well have.
Bruce clutched Hayley’s arm and hissed in Hayley’s ear. “She won’t stop staring at me.”
“Who?”
“Caskie!” Bruce said, panicking.
Hayley looked up front at the casket. She had a clear view of Caskie faceup, lying in repose. She turned back to her husband. “Her eyes are closed, Bruce . . .”
“They weren’t a minute ago! Her head was turned this way and she was looking straight at me!”
“You really do have a problem being in the same room as a dead body, don’t you?”
“I told you, it’s like a horror movie, you know, Night of the Living Dead . . . and they keep staring at me like they’re going to jump out of the coffin and come after me . . .”
Edie, who had been eavesdropping, reached over and patted Bruce’s hand. “I hear that new psychiatrist in town, Dr. Hishmeh, is quite good. I certainly have no reason to see him, but you might want to consider it.”
Bruce scowled at her. “Thank you, Edie . . .”
“By the way, I hope you stay for the reception after the service. I made blueberry tarts using Caskie’s recipe as sort of a tribute to her . . .”
“How nice,” Hayley said, having no intention of trying one since Edie Staples was a terrible baker and had proven it time and time again at every one of her husband’s church service receptions.
Bruce gripped Hayley’s hand again, so hard Hayley winced in pain. He looked down at his shoes and said in a hushed tone, “Look, look, look, she’s doing it again!”
Hayley glanced up front to see Caskie in the same position as she was before, as still as a, well, corpse. Hayley leaned over and whispered in Bruce’s ear, “Maybe you should talk to someone about this.”
Owen Meyers, the owner of The Shack, arrived with his wife, Peggy, and marched down the aisle on the far right of the church, turning into the pew where Hayley was seated and plopping down next to Edie Staples. Edie made small talk with Peggy as Owen nervously looked around at the crowd of mourners that filled the room. He hadn’t noticed Hayley yet, but when she leaned forward and offered him a welcoming smile, he reacted with a start.
“Hello, Owen, it’s nice to see you . . .”
Owen, suddenly flustered, tugged on his wife’s sleeve. “I want to go sit further down front.”
Peggy gave him a confused look. “Why? I’m fine right here.”
“Why do you have to constantly argue with me? Can’t you just do what I want this one time?”
Edie reared back, her eyebrows raised, thrilled to be smack in the middle of a couple’s abrupt spat.
Peggy turned to Edie. “Excuse us, Edie, I’m going to be the dutiful wife and adhere to my crazy husband’s wishes.”
“I understand. Be sure to stick around after the service. I made blueberry tarts.”
“Yummy . . . see you later,” Peggy said, smiling, nodding to Hayley as she stood up and followed her husband.
There was no doubt in her mind that Owen did not want to sit anywhere near Hayley out of fear she might try to question him about that mysterious fight between him and Caskie on the day she was killed.
Hayley watched Owen drag Peggy all the way down to the front pew and sit down on the end. He cranked his head around and glared at Hayley for a few seconds before spinning back around so he could blatantly ignore her.
Hayley checked her watch. The service was scheduled to begin in two minutes. Reverend Staples emerged from a side door and took his place at the podium off to the left of the coffin. Edie sat upright at the sight of her husband, a big smile plastered on her face, excited, almost ready to applaud wildly as if she was at a Tom Jones concert.
Reverend Staples shuffled his index cards, studying them, and then looked out at the crowd, ready to begin, when the door to the church slammed open and two more mourners shuffled in.
It was Regina Knoxville, Caskie’s best friend, and her husband, Albert.
Reverend Staples allowed them time to find some seats before launching into his prepared spiel.
Regina, clutching her purse like a lifeline, wearing a tight-fitting sexy black dress with a plunging neckline arguably inappropriate for church let alone a funeral, clung to her short, wiry husband, who was holding her up with a supportive hand underneath her elbow. They made their way down the aisle, stopping at the pew where Sheila, Celeste, and Jane were seated. There was absolute silence in the entire church as the three women locked eyes with Regina.
Regina’s nostrils flared and she stumbled a bit, her anger almost overwhelming her. Albert slid a bony arm around her tiny waist, steadying her. Regina then focused her attention on Celeste, and for a moment, Hayley thought Regina might spit at her. It was no secret to everyone in the room of a certain age that back in the day, after high school and before Celeste married Liddy’s father, she and Albert had been an item. Like Regina, Celeste had actually been more interested in Albert’s family money than crushingly boring Albert himself. This history obviously did not sit well with his first and only wife, Regina, and she made no bones about it.
There were a few intermittent hushed whispers from surrounding mourners watching the friction between Caskie Lemon-Hogg’s best friend and her three unambiguous enemies. Sheila, Celeste, and Jane had no choice but to acknowledge Regina with polite nods, but Regina was having none of it. She slowly, intentionally turned her back on them, as if she couldn’t stomach looking at them anymore. This dramatic move caused some more murmuring.
Reverend Staples, who did not like to be upstaged, tapped his foot, impatiently waiting for Regina to stop stealing focus. With her devoted husband’s help, Regina finally moved to the opposite side of the aisle and excused herself as she pushed her way to the middle of the pew directly in front of Hayley. Regina sat down at the first open space, forcing Albert to practically crawl over her to get to the other side of her and sit down. Reverend Staples finally began, welcoming everyone. Hayley debated with herself briefly on whether or not she should say something to Regina, and then decided to err on the side of caution and at least be polite. She tapped Regina gently on the shoulder. Regina slowly turned around, nostrils still flaring as her angry eyes fell upon Hayley.
“I’m so sorry for your loss . . .” Hayley whispered.
Regina never deigned to even bother with a response. Hayley was Sheila’s daughter after all, and in her mind, the apple did not fall far from the tree. She simply gave Hayley an irritated look and turned back around.
Edie, who had been transfixed listening to her husband speak from the podium, suddenly snapped out of it and glared at Hayley. She was not amused in the slightest that Hayley was talking during her husband’s sermon. “Shhhh . . .”
Hayley gave her an apologetic look and then redirected her attention toward Reverend Staples.
“It is with great sadness that today we say goodbye to one of our own . . . Caskie Lemon-Hogg was a resident of Bar Harbor her entire life . . .”
“Oh my God! Not again!” a man screamed.
Everyone in the church jumped with a start. Heads swiveled around to see who was the source of such a sudden outburst.
Hayley knew exactly who was responsible because the man who had shouted and interrupted the sermon was sitting right next to her and he had nearly busted her eardrum.
It was Bruce.
His head was down and he was nervously knocking his knees together and ringing his hands. His eyes were squeezed shut and he said in a low voice, “Is she still looking at me, Hayley?”
Hayley sighed and glanced at the prone body of the deceased, still lying in the coffin with her eyes closed, just as she had been the whole time. Hayley put a hand on Bruce’s hunched back. “No, sweetheart, she’s not.”
Edie stared at both of them and then leaned over closer to Hayley and whispered, “I’ll get you Dr. Hishmeh’s number.”