Drew blinked. When Lola was near, he felt like a compass near a magnet. She made him lose his bearings.
What just happened?
Besides the grinning and the recklessness.
“Worse than high schoolers.” Ricky carried the lion toward the back of the store, breathing heavier than Darth Vader.
“This is awkward,” Lola said, shifting on her heels.
Becky stared back and forth between the two adults. “I’m confused.”
“That’s a common occurrence when Lola is around.” Drew swung his daughter into his arms, clinging to the familiar.
“Thou hath wounded me with your verbal sword.” Lola swept her arm into the air as if she were a bad actor on a stage. “Excuse me. I have a viewing and then cupcakes to make.” She pivoted on her heels with more grace than Pris had ever managed.
“I like that lady. She’s funny.” Becky wrapped her arms around Drew’s neck and laid her head on his shoulder. The sword clanged against his back. “But I’m not wearing a dress.”
Chapter Thirteen
Scotty Eastlake looked good.
Nice blue suit. Yellow Jerry Garcia tie. Clean-shaven chin. Clean-cut hair.
His casket had a brown finish and a burgundy lining, warm complements to the color Lola had applied to his face. The darkly paneled viewing room was full.
Lola blended into the black-clad mourners, still shaken by the thrift-store episode with Drew.
Ricky was right. Their banter had felt like flirting. And the way Drew had grinned at her…Well, if he was dating Wendy, he shouldn’t be grinning at Lola like that. Because that grin sent messages no taken man should be sending.
What was wrong with her? She wasn’t looking for a man. She was looking for Randy’s mistress and the truth.
Augie set another bouquet of flowers in the corner. This one was in front of Lola’s emergency makeup supply case, kept there in case last-minute touch-ups were needed. Augie straightened his suit jacket, caught Lola’s eye, and smiled. It felt nice to be appreciated by her boss. Lola smiled back.
Mrs. Eastlake stood alone at Scotty’s side. When she saw Lola, she held out a hand and drew her close. “My girls don’t want to see him.” Her nose was red, and her eyes glazed. The brown hair color Barbara had applied on Sunday was bright but her hair hung limply over her ears, as if she hadn’t washed it in two days. “The girls are in the back. And people feel weird around me and Scotty.” She tilted her head and touched Lola’s forehead with her own. “But not you.”
The unexpected gesture warmed Lola inside. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
After two years working at the funeral home, Lola was used to being one of the rocks people clung to during the emotional upheaval of death. Scotty’s widow might feel close to Lola today but a month or two from now she’d associate Lola with this awful time and look the other way when she saw her.
Mims appeared at Mrs. Eastlake’s side, followed by Clarice, Bitsy, and Edith.
Edith walked up to the coffin and peered at Scotty. “He looks so lifelike. Lola is the best, isn’t she? When we laid my Charlie to rest, he looked as if he could jump up and grab his fishing pole.”
Mrs. Eastlake tried to contain a shuddering sob. Like bookends, Mims and Lola each wrapped an arm around her.
“Edith.” Clarice used her walking stick to put distance between the offending widow and the coffin. “There are rules to a viewing. Show some class.”
“I am.” Edith lifted her chin and sniffed. She wore the same black pantsuit she’d worn for her husband’s funeral, this time pairing it with scuffed black sneakers. “No one complimented my Charlie. He was a handsome man, both in life and in death.”
Mrs. Eastlake released a sound like a wounded animal and lunged for Edith, but not to take her down. She wrapped her arms around the outspoken widow and gave her a bear hug. “Thank you. Scotty is handsome.”
Lola took some pride in that, surprising as it was to hear.
Bitsy tapped Lola’s shoulder and handed her a green cloth grocery bag filled to the handles. She’d exchanged her cheerful pink tunic for a plain black dress. “These are your cupcake supplies and my recipe. The trick is to refrigerate all the ingredients in step two until you mix them together.”
“Thank you.” Lola dutifully looked inside the bag. She’d have to tote it around for a bit. She didn’t have a key to the office, and her bosses were nowhere in sight.
“You’ll have no problem,” Bitsy reassured her, moving to pay her respects to Scotty.
Carrying the bag, Lola went to the rear of the room to check on Scotty’s daughters. They sat huddled together with their little Yorkie, which Mrs. Eastlake had insisted was her therapy dog. “We set up punch and cookies in the reception area. You don’t have to sit here the entire time.”
The two younger girls scampered away.
Aubrey frowned at her clasped hands. She wore a black sundress beneath a short, tight-fitting jean jacket. Her brown hair had had the life straightened out of it. The ends were broken and flyaway, in need of a good conditioner. “Mom wants us to stay here.”
Lola sat next to the teen, setting Bitsy’s cupcake groceries between her black pumps. “Your mom wants your emotional support but she also wants to be there for you if you break down.”
The Yorkie tried to rummage through Lola’s supplies. Lola shooed him away. Augie and Rowena were still absent from the viewing room.
“She’s cried every night since Dad…” Aubrey pursed her chapped lips.
Lola wanted to rub the teen’s shoulder or give her a hug but was afraid Aubrey would reject physical comfort from a relative stranger. “That won’t change anytime soon, I’m afraid. Especially if you don’t give your mom something to keep her mind occupied.” Guilt began to pound at Lola’s temples. If she did as Bitsy suggested and took up the crusade for a safer intersection, she might help Mrs. Eastlake through her grief. It was the right thing to do, but it didn’t feel like the right time for Lola. “Anyway…voice of experience. I spent too much time mourning my husband alone.”
“Did you love him?” Aubrey stared at her mother. “Sometimes I wasn’t sure if my parents loved each other. They fought a lot.”
“I loved him.” Lola was surprised to find it was true, despite her anger at Randy’s infidelity. “You can love somebody and not like them sometimes.”
They sat silently for a few moments. The Yorkie sniffed Lola’s bag again, earning a nudge from Lola’s foot.
“How do you do it?” Aubrey’s features scrunched in a fight against tears. “How do you touch…”
Lola had been asked that question many times. She’d given many answers but none seemed as important as the answer the teen was seeking. “I talk to them. As if they’re still alive.” Risking rejection, Lola put her arm around the girl. “Because they are still alive. To their loved ones.”
Drew appeared at the end of the pew, making Lola’s heart burst into an inappropriate tap dance. He gestured for Lola to follow him. In his brown-and-tan uniform, he should have looked out of place amid the black-clad mourners. Unlike Lola, he fit in anywhere in Sunshine, no matter what he wore.
“It’ll get better, Aubrey,” Lola promised, unable to resist Drew’s summons. “Maybe not every day, but it will get easier in time.” She picked up Bitsy’s bag of groceries and joined Drew.
Drew took Lola’s arm. She went willingly, her steps light as air. The sheriff was escorting her, and he wasn’t escorting her to jail. It was hard not to smile.
“I thought now might be an appropriate time to meet the mayor and mention you want a traffic light or overpass by the interstate.” Drew nodded toward Mrs. Eastlake, who was still surrounded by the Widows Club and was speaking with the mayor and his wife.
Lola stopped smiling. “This is a viewing. It’s not the right time for crusades.”
“It’s the perfect time.” He led her toward a cluster of floor vases with big colorful floral arrangements. “Emotions are high. An
d hard to say no to.”
Mayor Kevin Hadley turned and led his wife, Barbara, their way.
Drew’s grip on Lola’s arm tightened, holding her in place. “Kevin, you remember Lola Williams, Randy’s wife.”
The mayor was young and handsome, a fitting match for Barbara, who was blond and beautiful. Lola would bet they’d gone to high school together and been crowned at the Homecoming Ball. Theirs was the kind of love Lola had dreamed of. A perfect partnership.
“Lola?” Drew prompted.
The mayor was waiting for her to speak. Possibly more importantly, Barbara was waiting for Lola to speak, wearing the kind of expression that said she was expecting Lola to fall on her face.
Lola’s shoulders sagged. Her marriage had been a sham. No one in Sunshine who wasn’t nearing a grave wanted her to do their hair, not even her best friend. Why would anyone listen to her?
“Lola,” Drew repeated with a little less sensitivity.
Kevin smiled at her patiently, perhaps used to awestruck constituents. He was really, really good-looking. Barbara smirked, perhaps reveling in her power to cow the town peasants.
If Lola said nothing, Barbara would most likely say something, most likely something unpleasant. And Lola would stand stupidly and take it, because no one talked back to the queen of Sunshine. The woman had no flaws. Not an ounce of cellulite. Not a blemish on her face.
Lola stared at Barbara, feeling like a mouse about to be squished by a lion’s paw.
And that was when she saw it—Barbara’s flaw. It took her a second to recognize it for what it was. Barbara wasn’t perfect. Her dark roots were showing through the blond hair at her temple.
“Right.” Lola set the cupcake supplies at her feet and cleared her throat, because Barbara might still jump down it, flaw and all. “I don’t want to take too much of your time.” She glanced at Drew, who nodded encouragingly. “I just…My husband died at the same intersection as Mr. Eastlake. I don’t want anyone else to lose someone they love. I feel so empty inside without him. It’s…” Her throat nearly closed with an unexpected wave of grief.
She’d thought she was past the word-stealing, gut-wrenching phase of loss, especially now.
Drew’s grip on her arm loosened. His hand moved across her shoulders, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. It was all she could do not to lean on him.
The mayor gave Lola a compassionate smile. He wore an expensive suit and an expert haircut. Barbara might have been cruel but she had good taste in clothes, and she was a good hairstylist. “This is an issue I can take to the planning commission at the city and county level.” Kevin seemed pleased Lola had brought her concern to him. He could have blown her off. She wouldn’t have blamed him. “Why don’t you tell me your thoughts?”
A group of women approached, having paid their respects. Kevin and Barbara closed ranks to allow them to pass.
A scent drifted in the air. Expensive. Familiar. The scent. The one from the perfume bottle she’d found in Randy’s keepsake box. Lola hadn’t realized she should be searching for Randy’s mistress here.
It was too late.
The women moved on. Kevin and Barbara backed away. The trail of perfume went cold. And so did Lola’s ability to speak. She stared after the retreating women—Tiffany Winslow, Mary Margaret Sneed, and Darcy Jones. All she had to do was follow them out and get close enough for a whiff, and she’d find Randy’s lover.
Drew’s radio chirped. “Go on, Lola. I’ve got to take this.” He walked out to the reception area.
The three women kept walking, right out the front door. There was no way she’d catch up to them now.
“Lola?” Kevin prompted. “Your thoughts?”
Barbara made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh.
“I…um…” Lola had no thoughts. “Other than wanting the intersection to be safer, I don’t know what to say except…perhaps…we can include Mrs. Eastlake somehow?”
“Fair enough.” Kevin’s teeth were blindingly white. “How about I keep you informed as things progress?” It was no surprise why Kevin was mayor. He was polished and gracious.
Barbara, on the other hand…
She had a way of smiling and turning up her nose at the same time. “That dog is eating your groceries.”
Mrs. Eastlake’s therapy dog was chewing the cream cheese. And from the ravaged state of the package, he’d been snacking on it for some time.
* * *
Drew’s pulse was racing faster than the cruiser’s engine when he pulled in front of his sister Eileen’s small house in an older neighborhood.
Flo had alerted Drew while he was at Scotty Eastlake’s viewing that she couldn’t reach Gary on his radio after he’d been sent on a call to Eileen’s place. Procedure demanded backup be sent. Drew just hadn’t ever expected a call like that to be at a family member’s home.
Drew parked next to the department’s second vehicle, the SUV. His rookie deputy, who happened to be his younger cousin Gary, stood on the walk, gun drawn.
On Eileen!
For a moment, Drew played out a scenario where he winged his cousin. Drew was a good shot, and Gary wasn’t far away. But the paperwork and potential lectures from his mother deterred him from taking that course of action.
His sister stood on the porch like a human X, as if Gary had tried to get past her and might try to get by again. Her faded blue jeans were stained, and her T-shirt torn. Was she harboring that deadbeat boyfriend?
Drew got out of the car. “Gary, you need to stand down, or my mom is never going to invite you to Sunday dinner again.”
“Boss, someone is screaming inside.” Gary didn’t take his eyes off Eileen. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. He was only two years out of high school, too young to fill out his uniform, too green to stay calm in a crisis. “If this was one of those hypothetical situations you quiz me on, you’d want me to have gun in hand.”
In a way, Gary was right. Until you added in the fact that this situation involved Eileen.
This could go to hell in a handbasket quicker than you could say my sister rescues loud strays.
“Stand down,” Drew commanded, coming around the cruiser, hand on his own weapon.
Forget Sunday dinner; Aunt Cindy wasn’t going to invite Drew to Thanksgiving if he shot her son. And she made the best gravy this side of Denver. And the town…Jeez…Gary had broken the state record for the hundred-yard dash in high school. He was the first Sunshine native to make it to the state record books. He was a local folk hero.
“Someone’s screaming inside.” The panic in Gary’s voice made him sound prepubescent. “Eileen won’t let me in.”
“Gary always did have an overactive imagination.” Eileen had never been one to deliver a properly timed punch line. She was hiding something all right. But a human victim? Not likely.
There was a crash inside, followed by the sound of a woman’s garbled scream.
“See? See?” Gary lowered his head to take aim. “I told you.”
Drew continued to work his way to his deputy’s side but his sister needed to work with him. “Eileen, you need to stand down too.”
“I’ve got this covered.” Eileen blushed the way she did when she lied, all the way from her throat to her ears. At the sound of glass breaking, she cringed but held her ground. “I’m…I’m…wonderful.”
Wonderful? He wasn’t buying that.
“Nice try, Eileen. No one here is wonderful.” He reached Gary’s side and channeled the voice of his former drill sergeant, the one that sounded like a cross between a bark and a bellow. “Holster your weapon, Deputy.” He never should have listened to his mother and hired family.
“But…” Gary reluctantly turned his gaze Drew’s way. “What about the woman inside?”
“Gary.” Drew placed a hand on his cousin’s slender shoulder. “Eileen rescues animals. She’s not the kind of woman to lock up humans. Shooting a constituent you’re supposed to protect will get you fired
.” And possibly put in jail.
“Oh, man.” Gary wiped sweat from his brow. “Eileen, you better not have robbed a bank or something.”
“She didn’t,” Drew reassured him, except Gary wasn’t reassured or backing off. “Gary, do you really want me to tell your mother you drew a bead on your cousin?”
“You wouldn’t.” Gary swallowed and then nodded. “You would.” He lowered his weapon. “Okay, I’ll be your backup.”
Drew shook his head. “Busy day in town. Emily’s off, and there’s no working stoplight at the mortuary. Go direct traffic coming out of Scotty Eastlake’s viewing. It should be ending now, but commuters from Greeley will be hitting town at the same time.” Sunshine didn’t need another traffic tragedy.
Gary’s face puckered. “You’re demoting me?”
“No.” Drew sighed. “I’m allocating resources where they’re needed.” He ignored Gary’s grumbling and waited until his cousin drove off before climbing the steps to Eileen’s door. “I’m not Gary. Tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re not coming inside.” Eileen held her ground, chin jutting.
Another crash. Another cry of anguish, too high-pitched to be her last boyfriend, Tyrell the car thief.
Drew indulged in a sigh and a wistful thought about quiet, trouble-free Wendy. “Whatever’s in there should not be in there.”
“I can handle it,” Eileen insisted.
There was a loud bang. The house shuddered, along with Eileen.
Drew took advantage of her shock to push past her. As soon as he opened the door, something the size of a minibike and as white as snow crashed into his legs, knocking him against the doorframe. He sucked in air and breathed in barnyard.
Squealing like the cruiser’s siren, a large pig lurched sideways, pinning Drew’s legs to the wall. The swine wore a pink rhinestone-studded collar that was large enough to fit two Saint Bernards.
“Rosie!” Eileen lunged for the beast.
“Stay back!” Feeling his feet go numb, Drew blocked Eileen’s entry with one arm.
Rosie found her footing on top of Drew’s boot and charged away, banging into upended furniture and puffing like a runaway steam engine.
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