I take a sip of lemonade. It tastes like chemicals. I’ve stationed myself in the corner across from the tables of snacks that have been set up in the lobby. The homeless guy scurries away. Clutched to his chest is a paper plate piled high with crackers, cheese slices, baby carrots, and Oreo cookies.
“Benjy!” Nora calls out, waving at him as people’s heads turn, but he keeps going until he’s through the doors. He’s not as old as I first thought. Did he know my dad, or does he just crash funerals, hoping to score free food?
The tears people cried earlier seem to have freed them to smile and even laugh. I hear talk about the upcoming football season, how hot it is, and who’s having a baby.
On paper, these people are my dad’s friends, relatives, old girlfriends, coworkers, and neighbors. But is one of them also his killer?
Carrying a plate heaped with food, Sam comes away from the table. Maybe she wanted my dad back, and my mom was standing in the way. Only my dad hadn’t appreciated Sam’s problem solving, and she’d had to kill him, too. But she’s so skinny. Would she even have been strong enough to stab my mom so many times?
I look around the room. Who else might know what really happened? Nora is deep in conversation with Jason, my dad’s old best friend. She’s got one arm around his back like she’s comforting him.
In the opposite corner, Frank is talking to Richard Lee—or rather at him, shaking his finger.
I’m so busy watching everyone that I don’t see the cute guy I noticed earlier until he’s a few feet away. He holds out a paper plate with a stem of green grapes, two slices of cheese, four strawberries, and a half dozen Ritz crackers.
“Here. This is for you.”
“What?” I take a half step back until my shoulders brush the wall. “Why?”
“I thought you might be hungry.” Some guys would say that like there’s a double meaning, but I think he means just what he says. Plus I am hungry. It’s after three, and I haven’t eaten since I grabbed some Lucky Charms this morning. Just looking at the cheese makes my mouth fill with water.
“My name’s Duncan.”
I have to juggle the plate and cup so I can stick out my hand. “Olivia.”
Duncan looks a bit flustered but finally shakes my hand. “So how did you know Terry?”
“Actually, I didn’t.” It hurts me that this isn’t even a lie. “I just gave the old lady over there a ride.” I point at Nora.
One side of his mouth turns up in a lopsided grin. “Nora? An old lady? It’s kind of weird to think of her like that.”
“Sorry.” I know what he means, though. Even though she is old, she doesn’t seem like other old people. I try to turn it into a joke. “I mean, that honored citizen in her golden years.” Nora now has her arm looped through Jason’s, and they’re singing what sounds like a Christmas carol, more or less in harmony. Duncan and I exchange a smile, and some of my sorrow lifts.
“Did you know Terry?” It’s kind of a silly question, since Duncan looks about my age. Then again, he is at my dad’s funeral.
“I grew up next to Terry’s dad, Mr. Weeks, but my parents knew Terry. They bought our house before I was born, while Terry was still in high school.” He bites into a cracker and adds, “He and his girlfriend had a little girl, you know.”
I keep my eyes steady on his. Duncan’s eyes are beautiful, gray with a black ring around the edge. “I heard about her.”
“My parents said Terry used to bring her over to play when we were little.”
Mud houses, I think. Mud mixed with grass clippings and left to dry in the rough shape of walls. Only I just don’t think it—I know it. I can feel the texture between my hands. The memory is so unexpected it steals my breath. I manage a nod.
“How do you know Nora?” he asks.
“I’m thinking of renting the house next door. Nora saw me looking at it and came over. Since she wasn’t feeling well, I offered her a ride.”
Could I really rent it? The rental-management company still transfers the money to Ariel Benson, and through some magic at the bank, the payments show up in my account. As far as I know, the rental people don’t even know there is an Olivia Reinhart.
“So you might move into the house Terry’s girlfriend lived in?”
I nod. “That’s the other reason I came today. I got curious after Nora told me about what happened. Which is sort of wrong, I guess.”
My face is calm, but my thoughts are racing. If I rent the house my grandma left me, the money will eventually come back to me, less the management company’s fee. By giving up my apartment in Portland, I’d actually end up several hundred dollars a month ahead. I’d just need to work enough for gas and food. And Top Ramen doesn’t cost that much.
Duncan waves his hand at the room. “I don’t think a lot of these people knew Terry that well. It’s more that they’re curious. This is a pretty big deal in Medford.”
“People don’t get killed here?”
He shrugs. “Oh, they get killed all the time, but it’s the usual: drunk people arguing, men killing their girlfriends or wives, maybe something gang-related. But not two people mysteriously murdered in the woods years ago. Plus, my parents say the whole town feels guilty. For years, everyone believed Terry killed Naomi. And for years, everyone was wrong.”