Chapter Twenty-Nine
The drizzly weather suited the somber mood of the funeral. Annie and Ben sat at the back of one of the rooms the funeral home offered for their services. Last night, she had gone to see if Mira needed anything, but the woman wasn’t home. From where they sat, she and Ben were able to watch people arrive. Their legs touched from knee to hip, and Annie realized she was grateful not to have come alone.
He looked good in a suit, but the muted sadness in the air took away from her ability to truly admire him. Along with that sadness, there was another energy coursing through the room. She wondered if Ben felt it. If she believed in such things, she’d say it was a negative, almost angry aura.
Margie and Joseph walked in arm in arm, waving to Ben and Annie. Ginger wore one of those black hats with the netting across the face. If it had been a play, she’d clearly cast herself in the role of grieving widow even though Bethany had already been wheeled in to sit at the front of the room near the casket.
Annie was surprised to see that Gill’s ex-wife was a tiny woman who looked as if she could be blown over with a strong wind. For some reason, she’d assumed whoever married Gill would have had to have had some sort of presence. But when Mira introduced Annie to her, the woman looked timid. Almost frightened. You have no idea how she’s processing the grief. Even without the broken ankle, however, she didn’t seem like she could sink a knife into a breast of chicken, never mind her ex.
Ben leaned toward her ear, his breath fanning over her skin. “Are you mentally cataloging suspects?”
Her lips quirked. “Am I that obvious?”
“Unless you’re looking for a better-looking date to this thing, I can’t see any other reason for your eyes to be continuously scanning.”
Annie had to bite back her laugh. She lowered her chin so their conversation stayed private. “Maybe I’m just seeing how many women’s gazes are shooting daggers at me for showing up with you.”
Ben tapped her knee as the director of the funeral home tapped the microphone.
Annie felt a pang of guilt for enjoying sitting so close to Ben. But one thing about sitting at a funeral on a Saturday morning—it reminded people how short life really was. And how easily it could be taken away.
As the director spoke of housekeeping items, turning off cell phones and the like, a noise startled most people into turning around.
Annie watched as a man around her age stumbled through the door, clearly inebriated. His blond hair stuck up at odd angles, and his dark suit was wrinkled, the dress shirt pulled almost entirely out of the pants on one side. Even drunk, it was easy to see he was handsome. Grabbing on to one of the pews, he steadied himself. An usher came to his side, but the guy shook him off.
“No. Leave me alone. Where’s Mira?” His words were slurred.
“Who is that?” Annie whispered to Ben.
“Conway Leese.”
Annie’s jaw dropped. This was Conway? Gill’s business partner? She felt like people did when they read a book, pictured a character in their head and then had that image spoiled by the movie. He looked nothing like she expected. Of course, she’d expected someone older, rounder, more jowly. Mira hurried down the aisle, her black dress elegant and ornate. A little too much, in Annie’s opinion. She looked like she was in a black wedding dress.
“Mira,” Conway said loudly.
Everyone was looking at them.
“You need to leave,” Mira spat.
Ryan stood from where he’d been sitting a couple rows ahead of them, joining Mira.
“Hey man, let’s go grab some coffee.” Ryan put a hand on Conway’s shoulder.
Conway pulled away. “Don’t want coffee. I want Mira. That’s all I ever wanted.”
“This is not the time or place,” Mira said, her voice cracking.
Conway’s shoulders slumped so far, Annie thought he might sink to the ground. Ryan grabbed him again, holding him up.
“Please, Mira. Talk to me. Let me in. You know I’d do anything for you.”
“Get out. Get out of here and out of my life.” Mira turned and walked away from him.
Ryan started to walk Conway out, but the man shook him off, straightened up, almost as if Mira’s words had sobered him, and walked away.
Ben sighed. Annie turned to face him as Ryan went back to his seat.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, her gaze darting to the doors.
“I think I know you pretty well already.”
She met his gaze, tension thrumming through her blood. “Why’s that?”
The funeral director apologized for the interruption.
“Something tells me you’re going to miss the service,” Ben whispered.
One side of her lips tipped up. “Someone should check on him.”
“I could do it,” Ben said, his smile amused.
“You knew Gill better than me. You should stay. I’ll meet you after.”
He shook his head, squeezed her hand, and Annie snuck out of her row and quietly left the room.
The funeral home was two floors. She found Conway sitting on the steps up to the second. Seeing that he’d found himself a spot, she detoured to a room set up with cakes and snacks. Grabbing a cup of coffee, she brought it to the man.
He looked confused when she handed it to him.
“Hi. I’m Annie. I lived next door to Gill.”
He took the coffee looking so defeated, Annie’s heart clutched. She wasn’t cut out for real life detecting—she felt too much. She couldn’t be detached, never mind picturing any of the people she met as stone-cold killers.
“Gill. That bastard is still ruining my life,” Conway said, the coffee sloshing a bit in the cup. He took a sip, then a longer one.
Annie was struck by the anger in his voice. It changed his face to one that could much more easily be viewed as lethal.
“You were his partner?”
Conway huffed out an angry laugh. “Partner in name. Really, I was his lackey. His scapegoat. All I ever wanted was to show Mira I’d do anything to be with her. That backfired, didn’t it?”
She couldn’t help wondering if anything including killing her father.
“Why does Mira think you killed him?” He was drunk. If she was going to dig for answers, she might as well start at the right spot.
His gaze widened. Annie braced when she saw the flash of anger. They were in a funeral home with people thirty feet away. He wasn’t likely to kill her for asking.
“She thinks it’s all about money. I never wanted the money. I wanted her. I’ve done everything I can to prove that to her. She’s determined to believe that my love isn’t real.”
What Annie noticed, aside from this man’s strong, unpleasant breath, was that he didn’t deny killing his partner. He didn’t sound outraged at the idea or try to defend himself.
“There’s no other man who would do what I did for her, and this is how she repays me?” He stood, the coffee spilling as he set it on the stairs. “She’ll be sorry for this. I’m not about to wreck my life any further just to get pushed away.”
He stumbled down the stairs, and Annie hoped that he wasn’t driving.
“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arm. He turned like he’d forgotten she was there. “Do you need a cab?”
He pulled his arm away. “I walked. Everyone walks in this goddamn town. What’s the point of having a car dealership? Especially one that Gill was sinking.”
Conway stormed away, pushing the door open with both hands. It bounced off the wall outside and fluttered closed with a contrasting slowness.
Annie sat back down on the stairs. Well. That was interesting.
The rest of the morning passed without incident. Annie watched the interactions between Ginger and Bethany with more than a little interest. For two such good friends, there seemed to be an air of dislike or at least distrust between them.
Though she wasn’t hungry, Annie nibbled on a miniature cinnamon roll while Margie, Joseph, and Ben chatted. She couldn’t stop looking around, watching the way people interacted. She didn’t even realize Joseph and Margie had left when Ben tapped her shoulder.
“You want to get out of here?”
Annie looked around. They’d shown up, paid their respects. There was no reason to stick around. “Yes. Let me just run to the restroom. I feel like my fingers are sticky. I’ll meet you by the door.”
Ben gave Annie a sweet smile. “Sugar does tend to make things sticky.”
Heat flashed in his gaze, resulting in a spike in her heart rate. So wrong time and wrong place. “Meet you at the front.”
She hurried away. When she turned the corner for the restroom, she heard quiet, angry voices.
“I’m not doing this with you right now, Joseph.”
From where Annie stood, just out of sight, she could see Margie with her hands on her hips. She and Joseph were standing facing each other.
“He’s gone. He was the only one blocking us from what we want.”
“It’s too soon, I’m telling you. It’ll look suspicious.”
Joseph’s arms lifted and dropped in what Annie could only characterize as exasperation. She’d been there with Margie herself so she could understand Joseph’s feelings.
“I’ve been asking you forever. Now there’s nothing standing in our way and you’re still making excuses. Maybe this isn’t about Gill. Maybe it’s that you don’t love me the way I love you.” He started to walk away.
Margie grabbed his hand. “That’s not true, and you know it. Let’s just let the dust settle.”
“Fine. But with him out of the picture, nothing is stopping us but you.”
“Just a little longer.”
Annie watched as they embraced, her nerves bouncing like those little rubber balls she’d played with as a kid. She backed up slowly and headed for the exit.
Ben stood waiting for her with a smile. He took her hand. She didn’t have time to think about that before his brows furrowed and he looked down at hers.
“Your hand is still sticky,” he said with a wide grin.
Annie glanced behind her, then squeezed Ben’s hand and tugged him out of the funeral home. “There’s a reason for that. I’ll tell you in the car.”