Funerals Can Be Murder (A Baby Boomer Mystery Book 5)

by Susan Santangelo

  The post office boxes were massed along the back wall, and we headed in that direction. Not that we were racing to see who got there first, mind you.

  Box 701 was in the top row, which meant that some of us had to stand on tippy-toes to get to it. Both Louisa and Deanna, keys in hand, reached for the lock at the same time.

  Deanna stepped back. “You do it, Louisa,” she said. “After all, you were married to the guy and had his children. You’re more entitled than I am.”

  Louisa hesitated, then plunged her key into the lock and swung the door open. There were two small items inside, just as the letters had promised.

  Deanna grabbed hers and started to tear it open, but I had a brief moment of common sense and reached out to stop her.

  Despite the fact that the suspense was killing me.

  “Not here,” I said. I looked around the busy post office. “We don’t know who any of these people are. And we have no idea what’s in the packages. It’d be better to find a private place to open them.”

  Jack took charge. “Carol’s right. Let’s go back to the house.”

  “I have a better idea,” I said. “Let’s go to Maria’s Trattoria. There’s a banquet space upstairs where we won’t be disturbed. And it’s not that far, so we can walk.”

  And, by the way, I was also curious to know if Maria could identify Louisa as one of Will Finnegan’s regular dining companions.

  Hey, ya never know.

  Fortunately, I can do more than one thing at a time. Years of motherhood has made me a multi-tasker extraordinaire. So I was able to text Maria and give her a head’s up about our immediate visit to the Trattoria. And be sure the upstairs room was available for our private use.

  All this, by the way, as I was hoofing it up Fairport Turnpike, trying desperately to keep up with the Louisa, Jack, and Deanna. I tried to ignore the stitch in my side that increased with every step I took. And hoped I wouldn’t have a heart attack right there on the pavement.

  I was sure that the other three wouldn’t even notice I was missing.

  Of course, I was the last one to arrive at the restaurant. Maria didn’t waste time on preliminaries. “What’s going on?” she hissed in my ear. “I couldn’t make much sense out of your text. Everyone made a beeline for the upstairs banquet room. Even Deanna. She didn’t even say hello to me.”

  “Did you recognize the other woman?” I asked. “Was she one of Will Finnegan’s regular dinner dates?”

  Maria shook her head. “I never saw her before. Why?”

  “I’ll explain later,” I said. “I’d better join the others.”

  Maria thrust a glass of water in my hand. “Better take this with you. You look like you need it.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “This shouldn’t take too long.” And I headed to the banquet room. And the surprise of my life.

  Well, at least one of them.

  “Oh, my gosh!” squealed Louisa. “This necklace is absolutely gorgeous.”

  “I never knew my brother had such good taste,” Jack said. “That must be worth a fortune.”

  “He certainly improved his buying habits since he met you, Deanna,” Louisa said. “I guess you were a good influence on him.”

  Deanna just sat at the table, staring at the contents of a small box. “I can’t believe this. I simply can’t believe this. Where did he ever find the money to buy these diamond earrings? I asked him for a pair so often that it became a joke between us. He’d always wink at me and say I’d have to be a very good girl before he’d even consider spending that kind of money. And the brooch is stunning. I love the seahorse design.”

  “Will certainly said goodbye to both of us in style,” Louisa said. Then, she noticed me hovering at the door. “Carol, come and look at what Will left Deanna and me.” She held up the necklace so the diamonds could catch the light. “I’ll probably be afraid to wear this thing in public, though.”

  I was starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Because I’d recently read about an expensive brooch in the shape of the seahorse. And had seen a photo of it, as well.

  But I pasted a bright smile on my face, because, well, maybe I was wrong. You all know how I am—I jump to conclusions a lot. Too much.

  I took the necklace from Louisa and gave it a close glance. I was sure those diamonds were set in platinum, and the clasp alone was worth over $5,000.

  I handed the necklace back to Louisa and looked at the seahorse brooch. “Do you mind if I take it out of the box?” I asked Deanna. “I’d like to see if there’s a jeweler’s mark on the back.”

  I held the brooch closer to the light and turned it over. Yep, there it was. Tiffany & Company. This brooch was one of a kind, and had been commissioned for a special birthday for a very special Tiffany client.

  I cleared my throat. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “You can’t keep these,” I croaked.

  “Why on earth not, Carol?” asked Deanna. “They were a gift.”

  “And we earned them, right, Deanna?” Louisa asked. “After all that rat put both of us through over the years.”

  I started again. “You can’t keep them because they weren’t Will’s to give to you. Well, that’s not exactly right. I guess he thought he could give them to you. But he didn’t pay for them.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?” Jack said.

  “This jewelry is part of what’s been stolen from houses all around town over the past year or so. There was an article about it on the front page of this week’s paper. With photos. One of the photos was of this seahorse brooch.

  “We have to take the jewelry to the police right away.”

  Chapter 40

  Show me a man with both feet firmly on the ground, and I’ll show you a man who can’t get his pants off.

  We were a pretty quiet quartet during our ride to the Fairport Police Station. I didn’t even complain about being squashed in the middle of the front seat, once again straddling the stick shift.

  Deanna and Louisa were each holding onto their treasures so tightly that I was afraid they’d never turn them over to the authorities. Not that I could blame them.

  For a brief time, they each thought they’d gotten the gift of a lifetime from someone they’d loved. And they’d had their hearts broken by him again.

  “I feel like I never knew Will at all,” Deanna finally said. “After all those years together, the more I find out about him, the less I understand him.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Louisa said. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell the kids about this. They’ll hate him even more.”

  “We’ll do it together,” Jack said, giving Louisa’s hand a brief squeeze. “After all, before he was your husband, he was my big brother. I looked up to him so much when we were growing up. But after what he did to you and the kids, I began to realize what a rat he could be.

  “We’ll face this together, as a family,” Jack said. “And hopefully, we’ll be able to put this behind us and be a real family at last.”

  I was sitting there, quiet as a mouse, taking all this in. And I realized what a revealing comment that was. I still hadn’t taken Jack and Louisa off my list of suspects.

  Although it was wildly improbable that Jack himself was the thief, and had set it up to look like it was Will instead, it was not impossible. Who better to imitate Will’s handwriting than his own brother? And, I reminded myself, the note to Deanna was typed.

  If the late Will Finnegan were publicly labeled as the person behind all the high profile burglaries, that would put the last nail in his coffin. Metaphorically speaking. And Jack and Louisa could live happily ever after on the remaining proceeds of the burglaries.

  It sounded like a wild theory. But then, I have a pretty wild imagination.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Deanna said. “Not only
was he planning to leave town without saying a word to any of us, but it turns out he was a thief, too.”

  As we turned into the police station parking lot, a horrible thought struck me. Since I’d made the connection between Will Finnegan and the home burglaries, I’d assumed that we’d turn the jewelry over to Mark. But Paul Wheeler was the detective assigned to investigate Will Finnegan’s death. Did that mean we had to deal with him, instead? After the tongue lashing Paul had given me on the phone about not interfering in police business, I knew he’d be extra hard on me for what he’d interpret as my meddling. Once again.

  But the heavens smiled on me. As we were pulling into a Visitors parking space, I caught a glimpse of my nemesis in an unmarked car, heading toward the exit, off to keep the town of Fairport safe.

  Phew.

  Since I had more of a first-hand acquaintance with the Fairport Police Station than anyone else, I elected myself the leader of our group, and marched everyone into the lobby in the direction of the information desk. I knew that, more likely than not, the booth would be staffed by a helpful volunteer, as financial constraints have put a stranglehold on the police budget.

  I turned around to be sure none of my group had made a break for the exit. I could only imagine how tempting it must be to want to hang onto the jewels, no matter what.

  “Carol? Why, hello. What can I do for you?”

  I was startled to hear a familiar voice from behind the information desk. Last night’s dinner guest, Isaac Weichert.

  I switched into hostess-speak. “I’m so glad you were able to come to dinner last night, Isaac. It was a wonderful evening, wasn’t it? Did you and Mark enjoy getting to know each other better?”

  Translation: Did my son-in-law grill you like the beef we had for last night’s dinner?

  “We had a nice talk, Carol. I hope I was helpful,” he said. Which told me absolutely nothing.

  “Are you here for a particular reason, Carol?” Isaac asked. “Or did you just come to say a quick hello to your son-in-law?”

  “If he’s not too busy,” I said, “I have some people with me who’d love to meet him. And, perhaps, see his office.”

  Isaac, to his credit, didn’t probe for any more information. I guess police volunteers are trained to keep their questions to a minimum.

  Which is one big reason why I could never be a police volunteer.

  In less than five minutes, Mark appeared. He did not seem overjoyed to see me. In fact, he seemed downright angry.

  “What’s going on, Carol?” he said in a low voice. “You know I’m up to my ears in an important case. I have no time to spend giving your friends a tour of the police station. Or whatever else you’ve brought them here for.”

  Mark looked behind me at Louisa, Deanna, and Jack. “No offense, folks, but I’m on a tight schedule today. Maybe another time, when I’m not so busy, I can show you around. Or I can find another staff person to help you.”

  I leaned over and whispered in my son-in-law’s ear. “Just trust me on this. You’ll want to take them your office. They have something to show you. I promise, you won’t be sorry. This meeting might even get you a raise.”

  “Five minutes,” Mark growled. “That’s all I can spare. Come on.”

  My son-in-law must have found his good manners gene, because by the time we got to his office on the third floor, he was, at least, polite. Correction: He was polite to the other three in the group. He ignored me entirely.

  After gesturing everyone to take seats around a small conference table, Mark looked directly at Jack. “You seem familiar to me. Have we met before?”

  I piped up. Well, you didn’t think I was just going to sit there, quietly, and let everyone else have the limelight, did you?

  “Perhaps I’d better make the introductions, Mark,” I said. “This is Jack Finnegan. He’s Will Finnegan’s younger brother. And this is Will’s widow, Louisa, and Deanna, Will’s, ah, longtime companion.”

  Mark gave me a stern look. “Somehow, I knew that you’d get involved in the Finnegan case, Carol. Despite an official warning to stay out of it.”

  He rose to his feet. “But you’re talking to the wrong police detective, folks. Paul Wheeler and I are usually partners, but I’m not involved in this case. If you have any information at all about that case, you have to talk to him.”

  His expression softened. “I’m sorry about your loss. It must be a very difficult time for the family. I don’t mean to sound uncaring. But we have strict procedures we have to follow here.”

  “Before you turn us over to Paul,” I said, knowing full well that he wasn’t in the building, thank goodness, “Louisa and Deanna have some things to show you. And after you see them, you’ll realize why we came to you, instead of Paul. Why don’t you sit down and let us explain.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” Mark said, “but this better be good. I have a meeting with the chief in ten minutes about the Fairport burglaries. He’s asking for a progress report.”

  “Then you’ll want to bring these with you,” I said, grabbing the box from Louisa and sliding it across Mark’s desk.

  I turned to Deanna and said, “Show Mark what you have, too.”

  Mark opened Louisa’s box first. His eyes widened when he saw the diamond necklace inside. He swiveled around to face his computer and, in an instant, a list of some of the stolen jewelry appeared. Along with photos that had been provided by the victims.

  Mark reached for Deanna’s box. I noticed his hands were trembling. He immediately recognized the seahorse brooch, which was not surprising. It was a unique piece of jewelry.

  I don’t know what I was expecting him to do. Run around his desk and give us all hugs? That would have been nice. Or congratulate us (me) on solving the mystery of the Fairport burglaries? That would have been terrific. Recommend me for a medal from the Fairport Police for being a good citizen? Make me an honorary member of the police force?

  All of the above?

  Instead, Mark looked at me with fire in his eyes. “How the hell did you get these things?”

  Then, he shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it, Carol. You stick your nose in police business after you’ve been specifically told not to interfere. You’re…uncontrollable.”

  That made me mad. How dare my son-in-law ream me out in front of Jack, Louisa, and Deanna like I was a disobedient child? And after I cracked another case for him. Some gratitude.

  I jumped up and shook my finger at him, the way I did years ago when I found him helping himself to extra cookies without asking my permission first.

  “Now listen, Mark,” I said, “at no time did you ever forbid me to nose around and see what I could find out about the Fairport burglaries. Am I right?”

  Without waiting for him to respond, because I knew I was right, I continued my rant. “And if you would just listen to what Louisa and Deanna have to say, you’ll understand how this happened. I didn’t find out about the jewelry until this morning. When I was summoned to the Finnegan house by Louisa herself. And my first instinct, when I recognized the gems, was to take them straight to you.”

  I glared at Mark, and then sat down again.

  Mark’s cheeks flushed pink. I guess he didn’t like being reamed out in public, either. He reached for his phone and punched a few numbers. Then I heard him say, “Chief, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. But I have some witnesses in my office who are giving me valuable information about the burglaries. I may have an answer for you soon, if you’ll give me a little more time.”

  The answer from the other end of the phone must have been affirmative, because Mark replied, “Yes, sir. As soon as I can.” And terminated the call.

  He looked at Louisa. “Why don’t you start? I’m listening.”

  Sorry to say, I tuned out at that point. I’d heard the story before—too many stories, in fact. I was having some
trouble separating all the facts, and putting them into a logical sequence.

  I know. Being “logical” is not my strong suit. But I do try.

  I found a crumpled grocery list buried in my purse and started to make a few notes on it. I wasn’t sure Mark would see a connection between the burglaries and Will Finnegan’s suspicious death, and I knew there had to be one.

  It was up to me to “guide” him. In a subtle way, of course.

  I started with some names: Will and Louisa (estranged wife), Will and Deanna (longtime, now spurned girlfriend), Will and dinner date number one (according to Maria Lesco), Will and dinner date number two (also according to Maria), Will and ? Were there more girlfriends? According to the pattern that was emerging about Will’s love life, he liked variety. The more, the merrier. So to speak.

  Which brought up an interesting question: Was Will skipping town on his own, or was he bringing a girlfriend with him? According to his m.o., he didn’t like to be lonely. Or maybe he was counting on making new “friends” to go along with his new life.

  Hmm. Louisa and Deanna each received goodbye letters from Will, with expensive jewelry as a parting gift. Did any other girlfriends receive a similar letter and lavish farewell gift?

  I crossed that idea out. It made no sense for Will to have rented more than one post office box. Although that could easily be checked with the Fairport postmaster. And there were only two items in box 701.

  But what if Will sent his other girlfriends an “It’s been nice but I’m leaving town” letter with no gift of any kind? How would that make a woman feel? Mad enough to want revenge?

  Nah. I crossed that out idea, too. Louisa just received her letter yesterday, and Deanna found hers by accident.

  Except that the delivery of Louisa’s letter was delayed because there was a substitute mail carrier who didn’t recognize the last name. The letter must have been mailed before Will’s death.