Matt spent the day at the Killians’ fielding calls from the medical examiner, who still had precious little information to offer about Don’s death beyond ruling out a heart attack or stoke, from his colleagues and from concerned residents of Winter Cove who wanted to express their condolences to the Killians. None of the family, though, were up to taking the calls themselves. Matt made note of everyone who called, so Rosa and the family would know how many people in Winter Cove truly cared.
Emma was clearly overwhelmed. Andy had once again retreated to his tree house and Jeff had taken off for parts unknown right after breakfast, mumbling something about a girl named Marisol expecting him. As for Rosa, she had refused breakfast, then sent Emma away, insisting that she had no intention of taking part in the planning of her husband’s funeral.
“Do whatever you want,” she had told Emma.
That had been her final word. Nothing Emma or even Matt had said could persuade her to reconsider. Nor would she see any of the steady stream of visitors who appeared at the front door bearing casseroles, fruit baskets or homemade cakes and pies. The dining room table was beginning to sag under the weight of all that food and Emma was starting to sag under the weight of her burden.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said, regarding Matt helplessly. “Should I just go ahead and make the arrangements? Obviously they’d never made any plans for something like this.”
“You tell me what day and time you want the service and I’ll do that,” Matt told her. “Why don’t you call a couple of your mother’s friends and ask them to come over here and talk to her? Maybe it would be easier for her to talk to one of them than it is for her to face you.”
“Why on earth would she feel that way?” Emma asked.
“Think about it,” Matt said. “She must have the same questions that have occurred to you and me. If she suspects Don’s death wasn’t an accident, she must feel as if she let down not only Don, but all of you.”
Emma nodded at once. “I’ll call Helen. Mama turned her away this morning, but I’ll plead with Helen not to give up this time. Helen’s been through this kind of thing herself.” She sighed. “I take that back. Her husband died after a long illness. It’s not the same thing at all, is it?”
“She was still left to cope with her grief,” Matt said. “And make no mistake, your mother is grieving.”
“Matt, are we ever going to know what really happened at the lake?” Emma asked. “Or are we going to live with this uncertainty?”
“Will a ruling from the medical examiner that it was an accident satisfy you?”
Emma’s expression went from thoughtful to sad. “That’s what I want more than anything, but to be honest, it won’t erase the doubts. I need to know what really happened. If there’s any chance at all it was a suicide, I need to know why he did it.”
“Then you intend to pursue this?” he said wearily. “I figured as much.”
“Will you help?”
“I’ll do what I can. But Emma, until we know something more, I don’t think you should share your doubts with your family.”
She nodded. “I agree.”
He studied her intently. “You going to be okay here? If so, I’ll run on over to the funeral home.”
Emma looked torn. “I should go with you.”
“Please, let me spare you this part. I’ll go over everything with you afterward, and if something’s not the way you want it, we’ll change it.”
“Thank you,” she said finally, her relief obvious.
He tucked a finger under her chin. “You’ll get through this. You all will,” he said emphatically. “It’ll just take a little time.”
Emma gazed down the hallway toward her mother’s closed door and sighed again. “I hope so. I really do.”
Matt intended to do everything he could to see that she had all the support she needed to get through the tough days ahead.
Rosa would not go to the funeral of a man who’d betrayed her, betrayed all of them, by taking his own life.
There, she thought with a touch of defiance, she’d admitted it. She knew in her heart that Don’s death hadn’t been an accident. The police could say whatever they wanted, but he wasn’t a careless driver. Besides, there had been too many signs that he was unhappy. She hadn’t wanted to see them, but now they were impossible to ignore.
Not that she was about to say a word to a living soul. How could she? What he’d done was a sin. It was horrible enough that she believed it, without admitting it to the whole world and destroying his reputation.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to go to his funeral. She’d been telling Emma that from the moment the arrangements were made, but Emma hadn’t listened. Now it was less than two hours until the service, and she still hadn’t budged from her bed. She knew she was upsetting her daughter, but this was the way she felt.
Suddenly the door to her room burst open and Helen came striding in, trailed by Emma. They were both dressed in black. Emma’s complexion was so pale, her eyes so haunted that for an instant Rosa felt guilty for causing her more anguish.
“Rosa Killian, I am ashamed of you,” Helen said, scowling down at her. “I never thought of you as a coward.”
Rosa didn’t have the strength to counter the charge. Maybe that’s exactly what she was, a coward. Maybe she didn’t want to face all those stares, all that conjecture. Maybe she didn’t want to face the fact that her husband was really dead. So what? She had a right to hide out if she wanted to. When it came to being a coward, her husband had just set her a fine example.
“No argument?” Helen demanded. She got a firm grip on the covers and ripped them out of Rosa’s grasp. “Get up at once. This day is going to be difficult enough on your children without them having to go through it without their mother. Stop being so damned selfish!”
Rosa stared at her. Helen never cursed. That she had done it now spoke volumes about just how upset she was with her friend.
“I can’t do it,” Rosa said simply, huddling where she was, wishing she’d taken another of those sleeping pills.
“I didn’t think I could do it when Harrison died, either, but I managed. You were there. All my friends were there. And my children needed me. I concentrated on that and somehow I got through the day.”
“Maybe you’re just braver than I am.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Emma, tell her how strong she is.”
“You are, Mama. You’re the strongest woman I know,” Emma said quietly.
“Perhaps I was, once,” Rosa conceded. “Not anymore.”
“Inner strength doesn’t disappear,” Helen chided. “It just gets buried for a while. It’s there when we need it.”
Rosa looked into her friend’s eyes, then into her daughter’s. They were both expecting more than she had to give. “I honestly don’t know if I can do this.”
“You can and you must,” Helen insisted. “You take a shower and fix your hair. I’ll find you something to wear.” She turned to give Emma a reassuring smile. “It will be okay now. Just give us a half hour.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me?” Emma asked, her gaze on Rosa.
Rosa thought of the burden she’d left on her daughter’s shoulders for days now and forced herself to shake her head. “Helen’s right. It’ll be okay. Could you make me a cup of strong tea with some sugar?”
Looking relieved, Emma nodded and left the room.
“You should be proud of your daughter,” Helen said. “She’s heartbroken, but she’s doing what needs to be done. And Matt’s been a godsend. He’s been right by her side. Do you suppose that after all this time…?”
“I can’t even think about that now,” Rosa said, cutting her off.
“Maybe it would do you good to think about something besides yourself,” Helen retorted.
Guilt rushed through Rosa. “I have been selfish. I know that. I just can’t face this. I can’t face any of it.”
“You can,” Helen repeated. “We’ll be righ
t beside you. All of your friends are just waiting for you to reach out to us. Jolie and Sylvia are heartsick that you haven’t let them in. After today, we’ll be right here as you start to pick up the pieces of your life. I can tell you from experience, you do it one day at a time. You’ll have good days and bad ones, but you will go on. And eventually life returns to what passes for normal.”
There was only one thing wrong with Helen’s promise, Rosa thought as she went to get ready. Without her beloved Don, she had no life.
Matt remained by Emma’s side throughout the funeral, but he kept his eye on Jeff. During the service Jeff stayed dutifully beside Andy, but the instant it was over, he began drifting away from the crowd. Matt made his way toward him and clamped a firm hand around the back of his neck.
“You about ready to head back to the house?” Matt asked, keeping his tone friendly enough.
Heat flooding into his cheeks, Jeff regarded him angrily. “What’s it to you?”
“Your mom and Emma will be expecting you,” Matt said. “Are you going to let them down?”
“The whole damn town’s going to be hanging out at the house. Who needs it?” he retorted. “This whole funeral thing is a crock.”
“It’s a ritual,” Matt corrected. “It’s a way for people to say goodbye, a way they can offer comfort to those left behind. Doesn’t it feel good to know how many people loved your dad?”
“They weren’t here today because they loved him,” Jeff said scathingly. “They were here to gawk at us, to watch us bawling our eyes out.”
“You don’t really believe that,” Matt argued. “People were here because they care about all of you. Your family’s a real part of this community. Flamingo Diner isn’t just another restaurant. It’s a home away from home for a lot of people. Maybe you can’t appreciate that now, but someday you will.”
“If you think this town is so great, why’d you leave?”
Matt smiled. “For the same reason you did, I imagine. I needed to figure out who I was and how to make something of my life. Once I’d done that, I came back.”
“You came back because you’ve always had the hots for my sister,” Jeff retorted.
“If that were the case, why wouldn’t I have moved to Washington? That’s where she lives these days,” Matt reminded him mildly.
Jeff apparently had no answer for that. But it didn’t stop him from saying, “I know what I know. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Your sister’s a beautiful woman. Any man who doesn’t take a second look has to be blind.”
Jeff shook his head in disgust. “And Dad always thought you were a straight shooter. You can’t even tell the truth about a little thing like this.”
“Maybe because any feelings I might have for any woman are private,” Matt replied. “That’s a lesson you should learn, kid. Never kiss and tell. Now let’s get on over to the house.”
“I have other plans with my friends.”
“They can wait,” Matt said, his gaze unyielding.
Jeff tried to stare him down, but he was no match for a cop’s steady gaze. “Yeah, whatever,” he said finally.
He started to walk away, but Matt clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“One more thing,” he said. “If these were your real friends, they would have been here today.”
“Like I told Andy, they didn’t even know my dad.”
“But they know you, and they could have come out of respect,” Matt said pointedly. “That’s what real friends do. Maybe you ought to think about that before you get too tight with these people.”
“Lay off, okay?” he said, still defiant. “I’m not a kid and you’re not my boss.”
“Maybe not,” Matt agreed, keeping his gaze perfectly level. He knew how disconcerting that could be when someone had something to hide. “But you step out of line, and I can make you regret it. Your mom and your sister and brother don’t need that kind of grief right now, know what I mean?”
“Whatever,” Jeff said, but he looked just a little shaken.
“I’ll see you at the house, right?” Matt called after him, still not letting up.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jeff said with a one-fingered salute.
Matt forced himself to ignore the gesture. “It’s a ten-minute drive,” he told Jeff. “I’ll give you fifteen before I come looking for you.”
“I said I’d be there,” Jeff said.
Matt nodded slowly. “I’m trusting you to keep you word.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Jeff said, but when he climbed into his car, he turned it toward home.
6
Rosa should have felt gratified. There had been so many people at the funeral, so many sincere expressions of sympathy. Every word spoken to her had been filled with very real dismay over her loss. Even the mayor had come by the house to offer his condolences. Though Rosa listened skeptically, for once his remarks seemed to be genuine, rather than calculated for maximum political benefit.
“Don Killian was a tremendous asset to this community,” Owen Habersham said, clasping Rosa’s hand in his. “Whenever I had a problem, I knew I could come to him for clear thinking.”
Rosa had always felt the same way about her husband, had thought he felt the same about her. So why hadn’t Don come to her with whatever devastating problem had been on his mind at the end? She’d always believed there was nothing they couldn’t discuss, nothing they couldn’t work out.
The early years of their marriage had been filled with trials—business struggles, a miscarriage, the loss of his parents, then hers—but they had met each test together. Even before they’d married, there had been a few serious ups and downs. One rift had almost broken them up permanently, but they’d mended it and been stronger than ever.
She sighed at the irony in the mayor’s comment. If her husband had been thinking clearly, would he have killed himself? She was ashamed of his actions, even more ashamed that she hated him for them. One act, one instance of craziness, had destroyed everything she’d felt for him, all the love in her heart. It had turned her into a liar and a hypocrite. She was keeping her suspicions—her certainty—that Don had purposely driven into that lake from the police and, more important, from her family. She simply couldn’t bring herself to add to the devastation that Emma, Jeff and Andy were already feeling. And even now she felt a tremendous sense of loyalty to Don. She wanted to protect his reputation, which was more than he’d seen fit to do when he’d decided to drive into the lake.
Hearing so many people say such nice things should have been gratifying, but it wasn’t. She felt like a fraud, as if she didn’t deserve their sympathy because she was so horribly angry with the man they were bent on praising. Worse, she felt she didn’t deserve any compassion because it was plain to her, at least, that she had let Don down in some real, meaningful way. Why else would her husband take his own life?
“Excuse me,” she said to the mayor, when she could take it no longer. Hurrying from the room, ignoring those who spoke, she made her way to the comparative quiet of the kitchen.
Helen, who’d rarely let Rosa out of her sight, rushed after her. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
“Can you get these people out of here?” Rosa pleaded. “I’m not sure I can handle it if one more person tells me how wonderful Don was.”
“He was wonderful,” Helen replied, her tone chiding Rosa for thinking otherwise even under the current circumstances.
“I always thought so,” Rosa said, feeling the rage once again begin to build in her chest. “But wonderful people do not suddenly decide to kill themselves one day. They do not abandon their families and leave them with a million questions.”
Helen gasped. “Rosa, what on earth are you saying? Don’s death was an accident. No one’s said otherwise.”
“I know better,” Rosa said. “He drove into that lake on purpose. Nothing else makes sense.”
“Stop that. Stop it right now!” Helen said. “You can’t be saying such a thing. Yo
u can’t even think it.”
“I don’t think it. I know it,” Rosa insisted, then sighed. “But you’re right, I can’t say anything to another living soul.” She gazed at her friend. “But I have to talk to someone, Helen, or I’ll go crazy.”
“Then you can talk to me,” Helen said decisively. “If you need to work through this, then you can say whatever you want to me and it will go no further.”
Rosa nodded. “You knew Don. How could he do such a thing?”
“If—and I’m not saying I believe it for a minute—if he committed suicide, then something terrible obviously drove him to it. Anyone can reach a breaking point.”
“Of course they can,” Rosa agreed. “But what was Don’s breaking point? Can you tell me that? Was he having an affair? Did some other woman dump him or threaten to tell me what was going on? Was he sick? Was he trying to spare us months of suffering? Or was he just tired of everyday life with me and the children?”
“I don’t know,” Helen said, looking utterly helpless. “I wish I could give you answers, but I can’t. I can’t even accept the possibility that you might be right. You may have to resign yourself to not knowing.”
“I can’t live with that,” Rosa said angrily. She searched her friend’s face and voiced just one of her fears. “Helen, do you think he was involved with another woman? Someone at the diner, maybe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Helen scolded. “Don would never have an affair right under your nose. He would never have an affair, period. He loved you. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that.”
“How do you know that?” Rosa scoffed. “I never thought he’d kill himself, either.”
Helen obviously had no answer for that. She merely returned Rosa’s gaze, her expression distraught.
“I know one thing,” Rosa declared. “I am not setting foot in that diner ever again, not when there could be someone there who was sleeping with my husband.”
“Rosa, you’re talking crazy now,” Helen said impatiently. “Listen to me. There was no other woman. I am as sure of that as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. You love that diner. You’re its heart and soul. People come there for a kind word from you. They can get a decent omelette or pancakes anyplace, but they can’t see their friends or be welcomed like one of the family anyplace else in Winter Cove. Besides that, it’s your livelihood. Who’ll run it, if you don’t?”
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