Kody wasn’t sure if she’d tossed and turned all night and so overslept because she was tired, or if circumstances had just dragged her down. She tended to be an early riser; not because she didn’t wish she could make greater use of the night, but simply because she seemed to awaken—no alarm needed—soon after the sun began to rise.
That morning, it was almost ten o’clock before she cracked open an eye and noted the time.
She swore, leaped out of bed, and dashed right for the shower. She’d barely gotten out before her phone started to ring.
She made a dive for it on the nightstand.
It was Rosy.
“Kody, they’re going to release Cliff’s body to me. I have to go to the funeral parlor today and make arrangements. Will you come with me?”
“Of course, Rosy. When do you want me?”
“Eleven? Meet there?”
“Perfect,” Kody said.
She ended the call. But before dressing for the day, she dialed Colleen.
Colleen was already at the museum.
“I’m so sorry. I just woke up,” Kody said.
“Good—you needed sleep. And I told you not to worry. I have it all planned out for the week. I’ll be here, okay?”
“Thank you, Colleen.”
“I wish I could help more.”
“You’re the best. Hey, how are you doing yourself? How was going out last night? Did you do something touristy or hang with friends?”
“Well, I’m not that...brave. You know O’Hara’s? I went up there. They have a great karaoke host. I knew some friends would be going, too.”
“And you had a good time?”
“Yes, but...”
“But?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Colleen said, and laughed softly. “Yes, I had a nice time there. But when I came home, I wondered why I hadn’t had the nerve to try a single song. And when I was falling asleep...”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Never.”
“Oh, trust me!”
“Colleen, come on. You can’t leave it at this kind of a tease.”
“I’ve invented a dream lover, I guess. With the softest blue eyes and sweetest grin. Oh, it’s not...not tawdry in any way...just...nice. Sweet. Gentle. A guy who touches me, and tells me how lovely I am, how sweet and how wonderful, and that I deserve so much. He strokes my cheek. It’s... I don’t know, Kody, this sounds ridiculous, but this man I’m creating in my imagination... It seems so real sometimes. He’s such a flirt. But oh, so sweet! And sexy, too. Maybe one of these days... Oh, I didn’t say that. I mean... Oh, I just really can’t wait to go to sleep at night these days.”
“You don’t sound at all crazy,” Kody assured her. “You’re finally gaining the self-confidence that you should rightly have.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. Okay, I’ll see you later.”
Kody broke the call and smiled; Colleen definitely deserved to get out there and have a life. She was all the right things, sweet, smart, loyal, dedicated—and pretty, as she finally seemed to be recognizing herself.
Kody quickly dressed and hurried toward Simonton Street and the funeral home.
* * *
“It’s a piece of gold chain,” Brodie said. He held it before Liam, not worried that he was touching the inch-and-a-half piece of links.
He’d seen it time and again, mostly with new divers. It wasn’t that earrings, chains and rings couldn’t be worn, and, of course, most people did wear wedding rings when they went diving, but dangling earrings and chains could easily be tangled up in a regulator or buoyancy vest.
Liam studied the piece of jewelry.
“We’ll have to find out if any of the Sea Life crew lost a chain,” Liam said. “Someone could have been down there working and lost this.”
Ewan was just a few feet away on the deck of the Memory, staring at them.
“If they admit to it,” Brodie said.
“So we don’t start out asking if anyone has lost a chain. We ask if they know of anyone working with them who might have one.”
“A subtle difference, but, yeah, it matters,” Brodie agreed.
Ewan, who had been watching them since they’d divested themselves of their dive gear, walked toward them.
“Okay, what now?”
“We need to talk to the guys,” Brodie said.
“Liam sent his officers out to the Memory and all around town yesterday afternoon. Every man has already been questioned,” Ewan said.
Brodie noted that his old friend was wearing around his neck the same medallion he’d worn for years and years. The chain was gold, and good, but old—and didn’t shine like something newer. The medallion on the chain was a St. Christopher—the same one he’d worn as long as Brodie could remember.
“Come on in to the galley. Most of the guys are there,” Ewan said. “Biding their time,” he added dryly. “Nothing else to do until we can get back down.”
In the galley, two men were engaged in a game of chess; three were sprawled about reading. One was working on something at the stove, and the other three were grouped around the galley table, engaged in a game of poker.
“Hey, guys, you all know Liam, our local cop—Detective Liam Beckett—and my friend, Brodie McFadden. Seems like we all have to talk again. You all down with it?”
Cards fell on the table.
The crew wasn’t down with it.
They knew there was no choice.
“Sure,” one man said. He was thirty, wiry strong, a good diver, and a local who’d been in the water since he’d been able to stand. Brodie already knew Josh Gable; they’d met on his initial dive—same as he’d met all the men.
“Want me to go first?” Josh asked.
“Sure. Go with Brodie,” Liam said. “Mr. Greenwood,” he added, pointing to the head tech, one of the two chess players, “mind coming with me? I swear, I’ll be brief.”
Josh Gable accompanied Brodie topside. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Shouldn’t smoke, huh? Did you want to start with that?”
Brodie shrugged. “You’re an adult.”
“So, what’s up now? The cops checked me out. I wasn’t on the ship. I do have roommates at my place. Two of them. And we sat around catching up on that dragon TV show, and then we all went to bed. My roommate woke up at about two in the morning and closed my door—that’s not what I remember, that’s what she said. She was going to play some music and didn’t want to wake me. Liam knows all this.”
“I don’t think you’re guilty of anything.”
“Then why the hell are you questioning me?”
Brodie shrugged again. “I’ve been known to be wrong. But seriously—I don’t think that this was any of you guys. I’m not even sure it has to do with the ship. Stuff a body in the ship—and who do we have to look at? You—divers, techs, people involved with the salvage.”
“Right.” Josh nodded vehemently. “I want whoever did this to be found and found fast. This is my island. This discovery is important. Anyway, it pisses me off big-time. Some jerk doing this...making what should have been an important discovery into an ugly thing like murder.”
“Hey, any of you guys break or lose a chain down there?” Brodie asked casually.
“Not that I know about. And none of these guys wears chains—except for Ewan, of course. He says he’s being buried in that St. Christopher medal of his. But...of the divers, well, you know. You’ve met all of us now. Ewan, me—and then Gary Wall, Sly Cormack, Jimmy Martinez and Trevor McDonald. We’re the kind who don’t mess with jewelry down there. Hell, Sly wears a big gold earring when we’re not working, but when we’re down deep, he doesn’t want it on. I mean, of course, it’s a matter of choice. Some people take their jewelry off to dive, especially big, flashy jewelry. Some people don’t.”
“Thanks. You really have no reason to suspect any of these guys, right?”
“Hell, no. Go back—not one of us has a record of any kind and we’re all about as unpolitical as men can be.”
“How come there are no women on this team?” Brodie asked.
“Chelsea Yarborough was supposed to be diving with us—she got a major offer to go off with one of the science channels out in the Pacific. She took the offer. Genna Maberry was to lead on tech—she wound up in the hospital. There was nothing sexist intended, I assure you. It’s just the way it fell out when we lost a few of our original people. In fact, Lucy Lee, one of the women working with the artifacts, is going to take Gary Wall’s place next week. Gary’s wife is having a baby back up in Georgia. He’s going home to be there for it.”
“Thanks,” Brodie told him.
“You’re not a cop,” Josh noted.
“Nope. Private investigator.”
“Who are you working for down here?” Josh asked him.
“Myself,” Brodie said.
Josh studied him and nodded. “You’re all right. And I get that. I get it. I mean, you found a dead man. Guess that means something.”
“To me, yes.”
“Are we through?” Josh asked.
“Yeah. Thank you. Of course...”
“Yeah, yeah, there’s an investigation going on, all that stuff. Don’t leave town. Hey, this is my town. I’m not leaving it.”
Brodie smiled. “No, I was just going to say that I hope you won’t mind if we need to speak again. You are a Conch, and a diver, and, when we have a suspect, we may need more help.”
“You know where to find me,” Josh said. “I’ll send the next guy.”
The next guy came. Trevor McDonald, a big man, muscled, bald, African American—and the kind of man so striking that, Brodie imagined, both sexes noted when he walked into a room. He had a sense of command about him.
“All right, hell, I’m pretty damned sure I’m descended from somebody owned up in the Carolinas. But come on, give me a break here. I didn’t kill a man trying to get the truth out there—no way in hell.”
Brodie found himself smiling; he liked Trevor. He was ready to say anything the way he felt it.
“You were at the B and B the night Ferrer was killed?”
“Hell, yeah. We weren’t partying too hard. I’ve got my wife and little boy down here. We all sat at the pool with some of the other guys for a while, then we went to our little bungalow thing and I put my kid to bed. I could hear other fellows out there—well, you know that the tech guys stay on the ship, and Josh and Ewan live down here. Jimmy, Gary and Sly—none of them are married. And there were some pretty girls hanging at that pool. I’m sure I heard them all out there until at least midnight. You’re barking up the wrong tree. And too damned bad—I liked you.”
“Hey. It is what it is. You know of anyone who lost a piece of jewelry on a dive?”
“If you found something, it isn’t ours. We don’t wear stuff down there. Oh, except for Ewan.”
“Yeah. His St. Christopher.”
“That’s right. You through with me?”
Brodie nodded.
Trevor turned to head back down to the galley, but he paused and turned back. “Okay, so, you’re still all right. Come by the B and B sometime. We’ll barbecue. You’d like my kid.”
“I bet I would.”
Trevor nodded, and headed out.
One by one, he spoke with the rest of the divers—Jimmy, Sly and Gary. None of them had lost jewelry or broken a chain—none of them noted anything missing from anyone else. They all appeared to be honest in their answers.
Liam had spoken to the technicians; they hadn’t seen anyone who had lost jewelry. Everyone knew that they’d been in their bunks on the Memory the night the body had been taken down to the wreck. They swore they hadn’t conspired to kill anyone.
Half an hour later, a police cutter swung by to bring Brodie and Liam back to the dock.
“Thanks for being on this with me,” Liam told Brodie.
“You do have your other detectives and a host of officers working on this,” Brodie said. “I want to thank you—for letting me in.”
“You found the body. You had been on the Memory already. I think those guys may have a certain sense of camaraderie with you.”
“I was with that crew one day.”
“And you know Ewan,” Liam said.
Brodie lifted his hands in the air. “Ewan—he was one hell of a career soldier. Passionate about causes. I sure as hell don’t see him as the perpetrator.”
“No, I don’t either.”
Liam shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. Gut feeling, I guess. You’re going to help crack this thing.”
“Okay, thanks, so...what was found in Arnold Ferrer’s room?”
“That’s kind of curious,” Liam said.
“What?”
“I don’t think that the killers were ever in his room. They must have taken him by surprise out in a public place. It doesn’t seem they tried to rifle through his belongings. Everything was tidy in his room. Want to study the documents? Come on by the station tomorrow.”
“Will do,” Brodie assured him.
He started to walk away. Then he paused and turned back. “Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you talk to Kody McCoy yet?”
“I never needed to call her. She’d spoken to you. She forwarded all the emails she’d gotten from Ferrer. We’re going through all those, too, now, along with what we found.”
Liam’s phone rang. He excused himself and answered it, and listened, and then thanked the caller.
He looked over at Brodie.
“Official from the ME. Cliff Bullard died of anaphylaxis. Somehow, the man imbibed something that he shouldn’t have. He’d definitely gotten hold of something with nuts—stomach contents are still being analyzed.”
“Nuts,” Brodie said. “You know, I don’t know why, don’t know how, but...”
“You’re saying Cliff’s death was suspicious, too.”
Brodie nodded.
Liam just shook his head, and then he sighed. “Yeah, well...he knew it. Knew he was allergic to nuts.”
“Somebody could have gotten them to him on purpose.”
“Somehow, yeah, maybe. Oh, hell,” Liam said. He waved a hand in the air and started walking; then he turned back.
“You know, I’m trying damned hard. Sure—if you wanted to kill Cliff, it would be easy enough. Everyone knew he was deathly allergic. But he carried an EpiPen. He was careful of what he ate—and drank.”
“And the only way he could have gotten ahold of anything,” Brodie said flatly, “was through someone he knew and trusted.”
* * *
“This is called Majesty,” Shorty said, indicating one of the coffins on display. “Really top of the line—mahogany with an ivory velvet lining, and you’ll notice the fine carving of the crosses.”
Majesty cost many thousands of dollars.
Shorty was professional even in his speaking; Shorty wasn’t short at all—he had earned the nickname for being six-feet-five inches. He was a big man, and looked the part of a horror movie mortician; in his handsome suit he might have been the evil servant of a vampire king or some other such creature.
He was actually a nice man, a “snowbird” who had eventually stayed for good. His real name was Conway Finch, he said, but everyone called him Shorty.
Kody found herself smiling; Rosy was looking at her.
Rosy was smiling, too.
They both knew that Cliff would have an absolute fit—no one should spend that kind of money on a coffin.
“I think he would love that simple little pine coffin we saw first,” Kody said.
“It is eternal rest,” Shorty said sadly.
“He would be eternally restless if Rosy spent that on a coffin—trust me. I knew Cliff well,” Kody said.
“Very well, now, as far as interment—” Shorty began. “Mrs. Bullard, let me explain the options to you.”
“My family has a vault in the cemetery. Cliff will go there.”
If he was disappointed that he wasn’t going to make a good sale, Shorty managed not to show it.
“All right, for the viewing...”
He went into their options. They even had to choose which hearse would be used. But while Rosy had decided on the inexpensive pine coffin, she also determined that she would help Shorty somewhat, and ordered a number of flower arrangements through the funeral home.
When it was time to leave, Rosy turned to Kody and thanked her—smiling. “I can’t believe it, Kody, but that did make me laugh. Cliff would have had a coronary and probably passed on—if—if—he wasn’t already gone...hearing the price of that coffin.”
Finances were always an uneasy thing. “He left you okay, right? I mean, Rosy...if you need help with anything, you’ll let me know?”
“Of course, and thank you, Kody. We both had a little insurance. He was so good about that, always so concerned about me. But for now, I’m fine. And it’s really, really kind of you to offer space in your family mausoleum. Which...thankfully...I mean...heaven forbid, if something happened to you or your mom... I wouldn’t want to take your space.”
“Frankly, my family was lucky in that, if one can say lucky about anything to do with the loss of a loved one,” Kody said. “There used to be graveyards in different places—there are still a few at the church and around—but the Havana hurricane that struck Cuba and the lower Keys in 1846 sent coffins flowing down Duval from the beach, and the cemetery was set aside. My family was here then, and there wasn’t anywhere near the population, so they bought a big plot—and built a large mausoleum. Through the years, some family members have asked to be cremated and have their ashes distributed places that they loved. There’s lots of space in our mausoleum.”
“Still, it’s deeply appreciated.”
“Cliff was a great friend to my dad.”
“Your mom said okay?” Rosy asked anxiously.
“Of course!”
Kody realized she had barely had a chance to discuss anything with her mother yet.
But she knew her mother well.
The family tomb had come to them through Kody’s father’s family, but the slot right next to her dad was naturally held for her mom. She and Kody’s new stepfather had made arrangements for just about everything, including final resting places.
She wasn’t at all worried; she was feeling guilty. She should have called her mom again today.
“As soon as we know when the funeral will actually be, Rosy, I’ll get it all set with the cemetery.”
“That’s lovely, Kody,” Rosy began.
“I’ll walk you back to your place right now,” Kody said.
“My place? No, no, Sonny Atherton has come back down, and Emory and Bill are going to meet us for a late lunch. We’re supposed to meet them down the street at the Hard Rock Cafe. It seems fitting—Cliff loved music so much. And he said he loved our Hard Rock best—incredibly haunted building, and great music playing all the time. You can come, right?” Rosy asked anxiously.
“Um, sure,” Kody said. She wasn’t sure she was feeling that social, but she didn’t want to tell Rosy no.
It was the middle of the week; there were tourists on the street, but it wasn’t nearly as crazy as a weekend. The walk wasn’t long at all from the funeral home on Simonton Street to the restaurant on Duval, and Rosy explained to the hostess that she’d made a reservation for a private room.
They were quickly led to the second floor. There was a very large round table in the room; if they wished, they could probably seat ten people.
Kody wondered how many others were coming to lunch. Then, she thought, whatever it was that made Rosy happy, that got her through all this, was the right thing to do.
“We are the first to arrive, so choose your seat,” Rosy said.
“Okay. Who did you invite?” Kody asked.
“Let’s see. Emory and Bill, Liam and Kelsey—and that friend of Liam’s, Brodie—you’ve met him, right?”
“Yes, I’ve met him. I think he was actually friends with Ewan Keegan, and met Liam that way.”
Rosy waved a hand in the air. “I invited him, because of course, I was inviting Liam, and I thought it would be rude if I didn’t invite his friend. Sonny—that sweet woman came back down here just to see if she could help me.”
“That was nice. Sonny is amazing.”
“An incredible dynamo of a woman. But then, this whole group is so...well, interesting. I was so delighted to get to know Cliff’s friends. Kelsey Beckett is so incredibly talented with her children’s books...” Her voice trailed and she asked softly, “Kelsey wasn’t with you the other night, though, right?”
“She’s on deadline. She went home to work. I hope she will be able to come today.”
Rosy nodded, looking around the room. “Well, hopefully, yes, she can come,” she murmured. “So strange, Key West. Strange and wonderful. This building is supposed to be haunted.”
“Most of our old buildings are supposedly haunted,” Kody said.
“You have information on the Curry family in the museum, Kody,” Rosy said, nodding her approval.
“Of course. William Curry came here from the Bahamas and, if legend is true, the man was Florida’s first millionaire back in the 1800s. And the mansion where we are now was the house he built for his son, Robert, as a wedding present.”
“And Robert committed suicide here—in what is now the ladies’ restroom, so they say. Have you ever felt creepy in there?” Rosy asked Kody.
“No, I haven’t. Poor Robert, he’s probably long gone on. He was ill. He inherited the fortune, and he was too ill to manage it all. I feel so sorry for him. I hope that he went on and found peace.”
“Oh, Kody. Come on. All the ghost tour people love this place.”
“I love it, too. I’m just saying I’ve never felt anything creepy here.”
Rosy shrugged. “Neither have I.” She looked uncomfortable. “Kody, do you believe in ghosts?”
Kody froze for a moment. “I...guess that they could exist. We’re composed of energy, and supposedly energy doesn’t die. And something does make each of us unique, be that a spirit or a soul. But I’m not anyone who could say... But I’m open. Why?”
“Cliff should know... I am such a coward. He shouldn’t come to me as a ghost. I’ve said it. I’ve said it out loud in the house... Kody, I am such a...really pathetic chicken. I thought he might have come back. That he might have touched me at night...”
She fell silent. They sat for an awkward moment, and just then Sonny arrived. Kody stood to greet her; Rosy did the same.
“Oh, baby, we’re all so, so sorry,” Sonny said, hugging Rosy tightly. “And don’t you worry, I’ll go back to the house with you from here. Oh, Kody, were you already going to Rosy’s? I just thought that maybe you needed some time.
“You must have so much work with the museum. And the news is all over Miami about the man murdered. Oh, and how can I forget, Kody—you’ve been in the news, too.”
“Me?” Kody said.
“Yes, yes, they mentioned the museum and how you were supposed to be receiving the documents that Mr. Ferrer would be giving to Sea Life first for their quest—and then to you,” Sonny told her.
Great. “Oh,” she murmured. Others were now arriving, Liam and Kelsey Beckett—and Brodie.
“Liam,” Rosy said, hurrying over to give him a hug. “And Kelsey... I’m so glad you could take the time. I know that you’re on a deadline, but thank you so much for coming to this little lunch. I think that things will get a little crazy once we have the wake and the funeral. Cliff was loved by many people on the island, and it seemed important that we...his people, I mean those really close to him, were able to have a little time together before...before the funeral.”
“Oh, Rosy, of course,” Kelsey said. She looked over Rosy’s shoulder at Kody as she returned the woman’s hug. “We all loved Cliff, and of course, we all love you, and want to give you all the support that we can.”
Liam’s wife was a friend of Kody’s, as well. Kelsey had inherited a great house on a little spit of the island that was barely attached; it was a wonderful and historic place. Her grandfather had been quite the collector of rare objects—so rare that he had lost his life to a killer intent on possessing one special piece. His death had brought Kelsey back to Key West after she had been gone many years. And it had been in finding the truth that she had reunited with Liam—and they had married soon after.
Bill Worth arrived and then Emory Clayton. The last to join them were Bev and Dan Atkins—who had also been present at the bar, Kody remembered, when Cliff had dropped dead.
There was a lot of commotion as everyone greeted each other and then took seats at the round table. Bev wound up by Kody. “So sad,” she said, “but so nice to do this...just a few of us who were close to Cliff and Rosy getting together. I think she’s holding up well, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, she’s doing okay,” Kody agreed.
Bev shook her head. Tears dampened her eyes. “Cliff... Oh, we’ll miss Cliff so much. But it seems that God called him. It was his time. And it’s such a loss to all of us. And, yet, Kody, I tell you, it’s just terrible about that nice Mr. Ferrer.”
“Arnold Ferrer? The murdered man found on the wreck? You knew him?” Kody asked.
Bev nodded solemnly. “Kody, he was staying at our place. Oh, he was absolutely lovely. Such a bright and charming man. It’s just heartbreaking.”
“Yes, it is. Bev, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he’d been staying at your B and B.”
Bev nodded. “I feel like I’m still reeling. Oh, not like poor Rosy! But we were there, at the bar, and saw Cliff...and then we found out that our lodger had been murdered.”
“Bev, I can just imagine how you must feel. I never met Mr. Ferrer in person.”
“But you knew about him? You’d corresponded?”
Brodie McFadden was across the round table from Kody. She saw that he was watching her and Bev. She hadn’t really greeted him.
He hadn’t really greeted her. But then, he was being very quiet. Polite and courteous, she noted, when he spoke to Bill Worth, who was next to him.
But most of all, he was watching. And listening.
“I knew about Mr. Ferrer. I had corresponded with him. And his emails were certainly forthright and very courteous. I never met him,” Kody told Bev.
Two servers came in to take their orders. Kody knew the young woman on her side of the table—Adia Martinez. They’d gone to school together.
“Hey, Kody,” Adia said, pausing by her. “Great to see you, though I’m sorry about the circumstances.”
“Of course, but it is good to see you,” Kody told her. “How are you doing?” she asked, her question a little awkward. Adia’s husband had been killed while he was on active duty with the military. She’d become a very young widow at the age of twenty-five. And she was raising a toddler alone.
But Adia smiled, ducking down for a minute to talk to Kody. “I’m okay. I’m really okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Kody said. When Mario had died, Kody had made a point of offering to watch the baby if Adia ever needed, and to help out any way she could. But Adia hadn’t called on her—she really hadn’t needed to. Her mom had come down from Tennessee to be with her. “Is your mom still here?”
“She went back about a month ago. I love my mom dearly and so appreciate what she did. But she has a life, and I had a great opportunity through another friend to acquire a nanny—sweet girl just here from the country of Georgia. She’s very happy to have room and board and what I’m able to pay her. She’s great and working toward her citizenship.”
“Wonderful to hear that,” Kody told her.
“Anyway, what will you have?”
“Um...the grouper, please,” Kody said.
“How’s the museum going? I haven’t had a chance to come by yet.”
“We’re doing well—but we’re a work in progress,” Kody said.
“I’ve got to get moving. Hopefully, we can chat a minute before you need to leave.”
“I can wait until you have time,” Kody said.
“Great!”
Adia moved on. Kody made eye contact with Brodie across the table. She glanced away, but she’d noticed that Brodie was watching her—and everyone else.
When drinks had been served and orders placed, Rosy stood up. “I want to thank you all for being here. I know that you were all friends with Cliff, good friends to Cliff, and you’ve been incredibly welcoming and warm to me. I didn’t ask you here to cry. I want us all to celebrate his life. He was an incredible man. An awesome musician, but an even better man. So, thank you! And, today, I would love to hear any stories you all have that were special to you and Cliff.”
Bill Worth stood up and lifted his glass of iced tea. “Cliff was a hell of a musician, but one bad fisherman. He and I went out one day and Cliff kept thinking he had a big one—all he was doing was tangling his line with mine!”
Emory rose as Bill sat.
“He came to visit the facility—I asked him over. He was fascinated with research we were doing on lemon sharks. He bent over to listen to one of my lab techs—and knocked over half the vessels on the table. Poor Cliff, he was so upset...but it turned out they were all empty, my guys were starting out fresh. He made the day for everyone working.”
Quips and remembrances were spoken around the room. When it was Kody’s turn, she couldn’t think of anything funny. “He was there for me when I needed him,” she said. “He was...he was a true friend to my father. I loved him so much.”
There was silence for a minute. She wished badly that she’d been able to think of an anecdote; she felt tears in her eyes and feared that she would start Rosy crying, too. But Bev stood up quickly. “Cliff managed a surprise for Dan and me on our anniversary. We were having dinner—champagne, surf and turf—and we were startled when he suddenly walked up with his guitar and played and sang ‘Chances Are,’ the first song we danced to at our wedding.”
“Ahs” and laughter went around the room. And as they did so, Kody suddenly became aware that something was different. A shift in the air.
She looked toward the door.
Something...someone...
And then nothing.
Cliff. She was sure, and she had the strong feeling that Cliff had been there.
He had remained in spirit. And he was here...loving this. Wishing he was alive to love it, of course, but probably loving the tributes that were coming away.
There was nothing now; he had been there, though.
In spirit.
Why hadn’t he tried to haunt her, and would she be able to see him again?
She was so sad about what had happened; she didn’t know whether to be thankful that he had perhaps stayed, or just regretful that he was, no matter what, no longer a part of the flesh-and-blood world.
She looked across the table; Brodie McFadden was watching her again. There was something curious in his eyes. She had no idea what he could be thinking as he studied her.
The lunch went on. Kelsey spoke about the way Cliff had been so good to her grandfather.
Liam said that he’d been like an uncle to so many of them—and a singing uncle, at that.
Brodie McFadden stood then. “I was lucky to meet the man for a brief moment. And to hear him sing, and play. And I have to say, it is truly heartbreaking—such a wonderful, intelligent man...to die from a reaction to nuts when he knew that he was allergic to them. Rosy, we’ve barely met—but I want you to know that even to a stranger, he was incredible.”
“Nuts?” Dan, on the other side of his wife, said. “Allergic reaction? We... I guess we all thought it was a heart attack.”
“No,” Liam said. “Cliff actually died of anaphylactic shock.”
The room was dead silent.
“Cliff...” Rosy whispered. “Such a dear man, but too confident in his own good luck...”
The room remained quiet. Kody realized that only Rosy—and Liam and Brodie—had known that Cliff had died of anaphylactic shock. Most of the people in the room hadn’t known that the cause of death had been definitely determined.
Kody had suspected it—and that, somehow, someone had caused it on purpose. She wasn’t sure that she was happy to have in confirmed.
Brodie McFadden’s words had been spoken kindly—with the right empathy.
And yet...
He’d put it out there.
Nuts.
Tragic for such a man to die—over nuts.
That silence...a strange quiet...lingered after he spoke, maybe some of the group not realizing what he said—while for some, the implication that he’d been too smart to have imbibed nuts on his own subtly slipping into their consciousness.
Brodie McFadden definitely believed her, she thought—that something was wrong, that maybe...just maybe...
Cliff Bullard had been murdered, as well.