* * * *
The funeral parlor’s musty smell smacked the air right outside the timeworn building’s door when it opened. Another parlor had been built in town, and most people now chose to use that one. I’d had run-ins with the mortician there and was relieved that we didn’t need to go to that funeral home this time.
Few cars were parked near. A bus bearing the name Sugar Ledge Retirement Home on its sides sat behind the hearse. Nobody was on the porch of the wooden building that short brick footings had bravely held up over the years. Bumpy coats of white paint had been added, assuring that nothing had been sanded down first. The black trim of the porch railing and shutters lent an air of distinction to the place, reminiscent of some of the plantation homes that remained nestled in this region.
I had phoned Mom and spoken to her briefly, asking if she wanted us to pick her up and bring her here. She’d responded with a hint of disbelief in her tone, letting me know that instead of riding with her daughters, she would be there with the man she intended to marry. Her comment and attitude made us decide not to challenge her on that situation right now. She had a friend to bury.
We didn’t know how long or how much she had known the deceased, but figured if he had been planning some sort of ceremony for her, she had been closer to him than we had. Just thinking about that made me hesitate before going inside.
Eve looked back at me when I momentarily hung behind. She wore a navy knit dress that showed off her svelte figure just like most of her clothes. She would need to be wearing chunky clothing for anyone to not notice how trim and tall she was. As usual, she wore more makeup than I did, although it wasn’t excessive. Her bolder lipstick and matching blush brought out her clear blue eyes and shoulder-length wavy red hair.
I’d chosen lower pumps, black slacks with a black jacket over a white shirt, and a touch of pale lipstick and mascara. I nodded for her to go ahead and stepped inside after her.
The odor of spent funeral flowers and old smoke clung to the air and wallpaper, and swallowed the antiquated carpet. Voices were loud. A quick scan of people inside explained why. Most of them came from the manor, and others I recognized as residing in the local nursing home that housed people who were in worse shape than those at the manor. Large gray and tan hearing aids filled people’s ears, and many others here needed them. Those who worked at the nursing home and the manor were accustomed to speaking loud to make certain the person they spoke to could hear them. My own hearing, I’d noticed more lately, seemed not as precise as it once had been. Maybe I would soon be sporting similar devices.
People were curious and turned to see who was coming inside and stopping to sign the memorial book. Mom’s boyfriend, or whatever he was to her, would probably be getting this book since he was Edward’s closest relative.
The place wasn’t crowded, but people’s wheelchairs and walkers took up a lot of space. Almost everyone in there stared at us, most not giving away any feelings or judgments. The few who did eyed Eve a long time. A handful of women frowned, possibly thinking she was too made up or maybe attractive. A handful of men, even the elderly, ran their gazes up and down her figure, their lips curving into small smiles. As I walked behind her, I nodded at many mourners, although I didn’t hear or notice anyone crying or even looking too sad.
Women whose sense of smell had lessened had poured favorite perfumes on their bodies. My sinuses clogged as we walked farther through the small rooms where people sat. Gazes ran over and away from me. I wasn’t showy enough to garner much attention, which was fine with me. Strange, though, I did not notice people giving us double takes. Obviously, almost everyone here either knew us or had previously seen my identical twin and me together.
One person I wasn’t thrilled to see stood against a far wall near the hall. His eyes pinned us. I hadn’t expected to find Detective Wilet here. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d known the deceased. Maybe he was trying to uncover a murderer in this place. Some mysteries I had read and some movies said killers often returned around their victims. Was that what he was doing here? Looking for one?
A surprising number of floral offerings hung on stands against one wall in the viewing room. Normally when a funeral took place this soon after a death without a notice in our local paper’s obituary, few people attended services and much fewer sent flowers. That so many offerings were here spoke volumes about the dead man, and I was sorry things happened so fast that we hadn’t thought to send some ourselves. A tasteful small arrangement of white lilies with other white sprigs topped the part of the casket hiding the lower half of his body.
Our mother sat beside the casket. My shoulders pulled tight when I saw her. She was holding the hand of an elderly man she had told my sister and me that whether we liked it or not, she was going to marry.
I watched Eve’s back stiffen in front of me when she came face to face with our mother and her beau, their hands clasped together, but now wasn’t the time for confrontation. Mom gave us a reprieve from immediately needing to watch how we spoke to her and her man by using her free hand to wave us toward the casket first. Her kind eyes and soft smile told us she was pleased to see us here.
We kneeled side by side at the casket. Eve squeezed my hand when we looked down at the man inside. Edward’s face appeared a little more swollen than usual, or possibly I hadn’t noticed that closely before, or maybe it was the way they had set his face, leaning his chin down lower than normal. He looked at peace, so much calmer than the last times we’d seen him. I mentally apologized to him for the ruckus we had caused in the retirement home.
My peripheral vision let me see someone coming behind us, so I made a sign of the cross and stood; Eve joined me to face the bereaved.
We leaned to kiss Mom, who pushed her lips forward. She greeted us as normal instead of having us kiss her cheek or only give her a brief hug. How nice to feel her love again.
“Thank you both for coming,” she said.
“Of course.” We spoke at the same time. And then turned to the man beside her.
Alexander McCormick, normally called Mac, kept his eyes level at us. His silver hair stood out with his navy suit. The walking cane he used stood beside his chair. We had met him a couple of times at the manor. Being this close, I noticed the wrinkles that had deepened in his face. Possibly grief at losing his nephew put them there.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” I said and took the hand he offered, his grip much stronger than I had expected from someone his age. I let go, and Eve nudged beside me and repeated the sentiment. We turned to step away, but he didn’t let go of Eve’s hand.
“You two found him, didn’t you?”
“We did,” she said, and my breath caught. Would he blame us for the death?
“Thank you.” He turned his head to speak to both of us.
Glad to do it, came to mind, but I kept my mouth shut, thankfully realizing that was a normal response when anyone thanked me. In this instance, it wouldn’t be true. I was not glad we had discovered Edward dead.
“Did you find out anything else since you spoke with Detective Wilet?” he asked.
Did we? I wondered but could think of nothing to say. I shook my head and saw Eve doing the same.
Mom looked behind us, and I was pleased to find a man waiting there to speak to Edward’s uncle.
“If you think of anything else, please let him or me know,” our mother’s beau said and then glanced toward the door. “Oh, my daughter’s here, but I don’t see her now. I was going to introduce you.”
Eve and I mumbled words and moved away to allow the man behind us to speak to the deceased’s next of kin. And this next of kin had a daughter we hadn’t known about—one of the many things about him we lacked knowledge of. I led the way out of the viewing room toward the rear hall, hoping we might find an unfamiliar woman who could be his child there or in the kitchen or restroom. I only wanted to look her over, not talk to her.
Only