There were two cars in the driveway – a blue Toyota Camry with magnetic signs on the side advertising Jerry Lowell, Custom Jewelry, and a small, brown, somewhat elderly pickup. Mary wondered if the Camry belonged to Jerry or Tommy. She didn’t recognize the pickup.
Tommy answered the doorbell. ‘Hey, Mrs McGill. Thanks for coming.’ His eyes looked narrowed, his mouth repressed with what seemed like anger. The smile he gave her was forced but he held his hands out for her box. ‘Here. Let me take that.’
He took the flat cardboard box Mary used to carry the food and stood back to let her and Millie enter. Ranger appeared from behind him to greet Millie.
‘This all looks wonderful. I’ll take it into the kitchen. Everyone else is in the living room.’
Mary hesitated as she watched his retreating back. What was the matter with him? The look on his face … that wasn’t grief. It looked more like barely suppressed fury. Wondering what had happened to make him so upset and who he meant by ‘everyone else,’ Mary walked into the living room and stopped in surprise. She opened her mouth slightly as she stared at the occupants of the room but she couldn’t help it. That Emma Baxter was here was no surprise but she hadn’t expected to see Mo Black. However, there he was, sitting next to Marlene on the sofa, a glass of what looked like iced tea in his hand and a faint flush of red decorating the tips of his ears.
Emma sat in one of the red chairs that faced the plate-glass window. She jumped to her feet to greet Mary, guiding her over to the other chair like an honored guest. Marlene and Mo said nothing. Marlene looked a lot better. Clean, well-brushed hair, a fresh T-shirt and cotton slacks, sandals on her feet and a flush of color on her cheeks. Blush? Somehow Mary didn’t think so. She let Emma help her into the chair, Millie right beside her knee. She didn’t know what to say. The room had the feeling of a conversation interrupted – a conversation she wasn’t going to be invited to take part in. What that might be, or even if there had been one, she didn’t know, but the mood in the room was tense, as if she’d interrupted an argument. She had no idea what to do next. Not a common occurrence for her. She decided to start with the obvious.
‘You’re looking better, Marlene, but I don’t imagine you feel much like cooking. I brought lasagna. All you have to do is put it in the oven. It will keep for a couple of days in the refrigerator if you don’t want it tonight.’
‘Oh, I’m sure we’ll have it tonight. You’re right. I don’t feel like getting a meal. People have been offering to do so much but I don’t feel like seeing anybody, either. I’m glad you came, though.’ She smiled at Mary, not an especially bright one but a smile nonetheless.
Mo’s face showed nothing but a faint look of anxiety. Mary waited for someone to say something, to explain why Mo was there, but no one said anything. Ranger plopped down beside Emma, Millie put her head on Mary’s foot and the silence went on.
Finally Mary had had enough. ‘Have you talked to Les? Reverend McIntyre?’
Marlene looked up from examining her hands, seemingly surprised. ‘About what?’
A jolt of irritation ran through Mary but she damped it down before answering. ‘I thought he was coming over last night to offer whatever comfort he could and to discuss your wishes if you were ready.’
‘Oh.’ Marlene looked confused, as if she was trying to remember. ‘Yes. He came. But we didn’t … I couldn’t …’
‘We were talking about that right before you came.’ Emma’s tone seemed carefully moderated.
‘Have you come to any decision?’ Mary saw Mo plainly from where she sat.
His back was rigid, his hands folded tightly around the glass he clutched in his lap. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not looking at Marlene, not looking at any of them. She thought the pink had spread to his whole ear.
‘Marlene thinks they should have a memorial right away and then a graveside service later just for the family.’ Emma spoke in the same detached tone but her eyes were on Mo.
Mary was trying to sort this out. Why was Mo here? Why was he so uncomfortable? Marlene was, too. Tommy had looked like he wanted to hit someone and Emma seemed to be refereeing something but Mary wasn’t sure what. ‘What does Tommy think?’
‘Tommy thinks it’s too soon to make any decisions. Right now the very thought of a memorial makes me sick to my stomach.’ Tommy walked into the room carrying two glasses of what appeared to be iced tea.
From the color, Mary was certain it was instant. He handed her one and the other to Emma. ‘I put lemon in both of them. If you want sugar, I’ll get some.’ His tone said plainly he couldn’t care less if they wanted sugar. It was only some remembered semblance of politeness that made the offer. He offered nothing to his mother.
Mary took a sip. It was instant. The lemon helped. Sugar wouldn’t have. ‘You don’t ever have to have a memorial service if you don’t want to. A small graveside service when the authorities …’ She didn’t want to say ‘release the body’ but couldn’t come up with an alternative.
Tommy saved her the trouble. ‘When they release the body?’ Bitterness and anger were ripe in his voice. His eyes dug into Mo Black like knives. ‘I think that might be the most appropriate plan.’ The gaze he turned on his mother was only a little less intense. ‘What do you think, Mother? Shall we skip the memorial?’
Misery was written all over Marlene’s face; misery that hadn’t been there a few minutes before. She seemed to tremble slightly as she looked at her son and Mary could have sworn her eyes misted over. ‘I think that’s a good idea. I’m not sure …’
‘That you’d want to revisit some of your memories? I have some I don’t want to, either.’
Ranger left Emma’s side and walked over to where Tommy stood towering over all of them, closing and opening his fists, blinking rapidly. He pushed up against Tommy’s side and whined softly. Some of the anger, the tenseness that kept him stood so stiffly seemed to fade as his hand dropped on the dog’s head. He started to rub Ranger’s ears and sighed. ‘It’s O’Dell’s Funeral Home, isn’t it? They’re the one you notified?’ He seemed to address Mary.
‘Yes. They do most of Saint Mark’s funerals. They’re very kind and helpful.’
He sighed again, this time deeply and with what sounded like resignation. ‘Could you call them? Tell them I’ll bring my mother in tomorrow to start making arrangements. I’ll call Reverend McIntyre in the morning and tell him we’re only going to have a graveside service. I guess I’ll have to do something about a grave, too.’ He gave a short laugh then looked around as if for a chair.
Mo Black immediately got up. ‘I think I’d better go. I only thought … I wanted to make sure you were all right.’ He stared at Marlene but immediately turned to include Tommy.
He extended his hand to Marlene, who slowly reached out and took it. That he held it a little too close and for a little too long was hard to miss. Gently, he released it. She let it drop in her lap, stared at him for a moment then dropped her eyes.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he almost whispered.
‘Yes. I know you are.’ Her words sounded monotone, an acceptance of something that had been discussed before.
Tommy took the hand Mo extended but his rigid stance didn’t soften. Neither did the look on his face. ‘You did what you had to.’ His eyes shifted to his mother. The anger seemed to fade from his face but not the anguish.
Emma got to her feet, the expression on her face a mixture of emotions, not one of which Mary could read. ‘Tommy, let’s postpone our walk. I think your mother needs you with her right now. Maybe tomorrow morning?’
Tommy looked startled and not too pleased but his mother settled the matter.
‘Thank you, Emma, for everything. Yes, I do think Tommy and I need to talk.’ There was a set to Marlene’s jaw that made Mary think their talk might not be too pleasant. She wished she knew what was going on, but that it wasn’t something more than Jerry’s murder, she was sure. What had Tommy meant about memories? Whose memories? What had Jerry done that they didn’t want to remember? What had Mo done? In the meantime … ‘Emma, I’m also leaving. Can I give you a ride back into town?’
Mo broke in. ‘I’m going right by the police station. No trouble to drop you off.’
Mo sounded a little anxious, as if he wanted to talk to Emma badly, but so did Mary.
She had some questions for her and they didn’t all have to do with the little scene playing out here. ‘That’s nice of you, Mo, but I have information about the Baxter family Emma wanted. We can talk about that on the way back.’
A quick flash of displeasure passed over Mo’s face, almost too fast to be noticed if you weren’t watching, but he only nodded, said one more goodbye all around and was gone. Mary watched through the plate-glass window as he climbed into the front seat of the brown pickup. The door slammed behind him a little too hard and the engine roared a little too loud as he took off down the street. Mo Black was either furious or badly upset about something. She stared at the empty street for a moment then turned to pick up her purse. She took Millie’s leash out of it and managed to snap it onto the squirming dog. ‘Emma, if you’re ready?’
Emma had a red and blue striped tote bag already slung over one shoulder. She nodded.
Mary walked over to Marlene, leaned over and gave her a squeeze. ‘If you need anything … anything at all, please call. I’ll do whatever I can to help you both.’
‘You can find whoever it was who shot my father.’ Tommy tried to insert a small laugh but it fell flat.
Mary smiled back to show she knew that wasn’t something he expected.
What he couldn’t know was she planned to do exactly that. Find out who had killed both Ian Miller and Jerry Lowell, and why.