by S. E. Babin
Once it seemed like I was in the clear, I started flipping through all of the black dresses. The good thing about Myrna was she had a real thing for color coordinating. There was nary a dress outside of its designated shade and I appreciated that. I wasn’t the kind of woman who shopped just to shop. I shopped for a purpose. Even if that purpose was just to hit the clearance racks and score some deals.
She had a pretty large selection, but some of it was a little less Candy and a whole lot more man-hunting attire. Though I knew Candy had a thing for short and low cut from the dossier, I had a thing for tasteful and pretty.
I frowned. Alas, I was not shopping for me. I stopped as soon as my fingers flipped to a short lace dress. It was long sleeved and had a modest boat-line neck. There was coverage galore except for the legs. It stopped about mid-thigh.
“Hmm.” I tapped a finger on my chin as I pondered it, pulled it from the rack, and stuck it on the hook in front of the mirror. I snapped a picture and texted it to Emma.
Within seconds she’d responded. I’ll need to see it on. It looks like a lot of material. At our last family get together, Candy wore a red miniskirt and a lace halter. This seems awfully modest.
“Shoot,” I whispered. I wouldn’t be able to bend over in this thing without getting thrown into the pokey for indecent exposure, yet it was modest.
I texted back. I’ll try it on.
I called out to Myrna that I was going in the dressing rooms. Grabbing the dress, I headed in and immediately chuckled. I’d forgotten how small these rooms were. It was like trying to change in the front seat of a car.
Not that I’d ever done that…
I hung my purse and the dress on a hook and shimmied out of my clothing. Pulling the dress carefully from the hanger I slid it over my head. It was surprisingly comfortable. I pulled it down as low as it could go. Which wasn’t nearly enough low for me. Turning back around, I caught a glimpse in the mirror and gasped.
“Wow.”
I looked both classy and uptown. The dress was disastrously short, but I was sort of modest on hemlines to tell you the truth. I got out my cell, took a picture, and sent it to Emma.
I stepped out of the dressing room to see myself in the larger three-sided mirror.
Seth Morrow stood in front of me.
With a squawk I wheeled my arms back and stumbled.
Strong arms caught me. “Whoa! Sorry I startled you there.”
He helped me right myself, but he didn’t let go. Our faces were too close. I stepped back, this time on steadier legs.
“Sorry about that,” I said with a shaky laugh. I could feel heat spreading from my face down to my toes. “How embarrassing.”
Seth, seeing what I had on, blinked. “Uh...is that?”
“For the funeral? Maybe.” I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I looked stunning. This dress. Even if Emma said no, I was pretty sure it was coming home with me anyway. I glanced up at Seth only to see him staring at me, an intense look in his eyes.
“Seth?”
He startled. “Yes? Oh. Sorry. I was just wondering what kind of person this Candy woman was to wear a dress like that to a funeral.”
“She would have worn something worse,” I assured him. “This is downright modest.’
My phone pinged.
Buy it anyway. You look gorgeous. If you can’t find something a little more risqué, you can wear it. Just maybe make the heels red or something.
I cringed.
“Kitty?”
“She wants me to wear red heels with it if I can’t find something else.”
His chuckle was low. “Candy sounds like she lives her life at 90 mph.”
“Yeah,” I said and sighed. “This has been challenging.”
“You’re doing a good job,” he said. “My aunt really likes you.”
My head jerked to him. “What? Really?”
His smile was wide. “She does. I know she doesn’t seem like she likes anyone, but she’s taken a shine to you. Perhaps because you told her how you really felt about me.”
Color bloomed on my face again. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Sorry about that.” I noticed he was holding a suit. “For tomorrow?”
“I didn’t bring anything from home. I didn’t actually think I’d be participating in anything. I thought it would be easier to blend in with regular street clothes.”
I took the suit from him. The blend was all wrong. “No,” I said. “Come with me.” When we made it back to the suit area, I hung it back up and flipped through until I came to a lighter blend suit. “This is more suitable for the season, and it’s a little more casual. Try this one.” I handed it to him.
A look of befuddlement spread over his face. “You’re helping me?”
I regretted it immediately. “Don’t want you to embarrass yourself.” I winked at him. “See you tomorrow.”
“Wait! Don’t you want to see what it looks like on?”
I didn’t turn back. “Nope!”
His laugh followed me all the way to the register.
Myrna, a large woman with bronzed skin and wild gray hair, beamed at me when she saw me come up to the register. “My, my! Kitty Crawford. It’s been a while. I saw your mama a few months ago when she came in to get something for a wedding she had to go to. She mentioned you were coming home.”
I set the dress on the counter. “Here I am!” I leaned in and lowered my voice. “Listen, there’s a guy back there trying on suits. Don’t let him get the heavier blend.”
“That handsome devil doesn’t know how to pick out a suit?” She made a ‘psshh’ noise.
I shook my head. “I don’t know that he does anything for himself. He has gobs and gobs of people falling at his feet to do everything for him.”
Myrna laughed her familiar, booming laugh and rang up my dress. “I’m going to give you a twenty percent discount just for making me laugh, honey.”
She rattled off the total and I handed over my debit card. I had a few hundred left on it before I needed to really worry whether or not I was going to have to bum some money off of my mom. I'd have to ask Ruthie later if I would get reimbursed for purchases like these. I assumed I would, thus the reason I spent a little more on it. Plus...this dress was killer and if I ever found a man I wanted to impress, you could bet your bottom dollar I'd be wearing it again. Even if it was a teensy weensy (okay a lot) short.
After swiping my card and handing it back, Myrna leaned over and whispered. "He's a handsome devil, isn't he? Are you still single, Kitty?"
I tucked the card back into my purse and made a herculean effort to keep the frown off my face. "I'm still single, but he isn't my type."
Ms. Myrna chuckled under her breath. "A man that handsome? Girl, he's everyone's type."
I shook my head at her obvious matchmaking. "Not even a little bit interested. But seriously, please don't let him buy that other suit. I have to be seen with him tomorrow and I don't want to be embarrassed. " I softened that statement with a wink.
The old woman shook her head, wrapped my dress, and handed it over the counter to me. "Something makes me think you're going to change your mind about him."
I took the dress, waved goodbye, and managed to get out of the store quick enough to be able to avoid responding. I saw a flash of dark trouser leg coming out of the dressing room, so I picked up the pace before Seth had a chance to catch me again.
The next morning, I was feeling self-conscious in the new dress. I kept smoothing the sides of it down and finding the tips of my fingers coming up empty when I felt for the expected hemline. My mother came out of her room, saw me, and stopped in her tracks. "My," she said, her voice rough from sleep. "That's quite a number you have on at 10 a.m."
A sheepish smile wavered on my face. "It's for the funeral this morning."
The other eyebrow went up. "A funeral? You're wearing that to the house of the Lord?"
A laugh escaped me. "Mom, I normally wouldn't. This is for my job. Remember? I'm pretending to
be another lady."
My mom shuffled over to the cabinet and grabbed down her favorite mug. "No one who's a lady wears something like that to mourn someone's death."
"This is almost too sedate for her," I said. "Emma almost didn't let me buy it."
My mom shook her head and punched the button on the coffee machine. The smell of java was almost instantaneous, and I craved some, but I'd already had two cups of it. Any more of it and I'd get the jitters and start talking like a famous chipmunk.
"This whole thing disturbs me. I mean I understand why someone would want to fill the seats. That isn't uncommon. But to go this far..."
"She loves her son and I think the family didn't see in him what she did. She claims it's for him. That she wanted to make sure he was remembered in death differently than he was in life."
"I can only assume that for you to be able to step in, she wasn't around that much."
I toyed with one of the springy curls I'd put in my hair this morning. "No. She was a consultant. No one really knows what for. Candy traveled a lot and most of the family never met her."
"Ah," she said as she pulled the mug off and poured a generous amount of creamer inside. "You do know the things we pretend to do for the dead are never really for the dead at all?"
I nodded. It was something I'd been thinking about more and more since I took this job. "It's for the living, I know."
My mom studied me over the rim of her cup as she sipped. "This is why it's so important to make sure you're living, Kitty Girl. We only have a short time here on the Earth. Live for yourself and the people who love you. Do things for the world, but never, ever let someone else dictate how you should live." She sighed. "I don't understand this man's mama, but I do understand how far someone would go for their children." She eyed my dress one more time. "That's a courting dress, darling, not a funeral dress, but you do look lovely."
"Thanks, Mama." I leaned over and brushed a kiss on her cheek, inhaling the scent of her vanilla perfume. It was times like this and conversations like this with her that made me grateful for all the calamity that had brought me back home to her. "I love you."
She blinked in surprise. "I love you too, baby." She gave me a peck on the cheek back and waggled her eyebrows. "That's the kind of dress that's going to get me grandbabies, so I fully expect to see you wearing that again, you understand."
I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Baby crazy woman!" I called, as I grabbed my purse and rolled out the door.
"I'm not getting any younger!" my mom shouted back.
11
The nerves started as I got closer to the funeral home. Not only would there be a lot of people here today, we would all be cloistered in a small area. At the wake, I was able to duck and dodge a lot of people. Plus, they had a lot of land, so I was able to step outside when I needed to. Here I would be subjected to a lot more scrutiny. Plus, there was the matter of Seth.
I gnashed my teeth together remembering how I'd been so thoroughly railroaded by him and Ruthie back at the agency. I never wanted to work with him again and thought being back here would prevent that from ever happening again. To find out not only was he related to my new boss seemed to be the worst kind of karmic debt payback. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what I'd done to become the butt of karma's jokes.
As I pulled into the funeral home and parked, I adjusted the rearview mirror and checked my hair and lipstick. Perfect. I kept the car running, shut my eyes, and counted long and slow to twenty. I would be calm. I would be cool. I would not be tempted in the least to rip Seth Morrow's face off. I would channel the nastiness of Candy Harper to the best of my ability and walk out of this funeral knowing I had done my best to get my first paycheck.
It was fine.
I was fine.
I put my Candy Harper face on and slid out of the vehicle, careful to keep myself adjusted so I wouldn't give the parking a lot a show. This dress was too short.
But I still looked like the kind of woman Candy Harper was. Just hopefully with a better soul.
There was a gaggle of people standing around the entrance to the funeral home. A small, red, brick building, it didn't look like much from the outside. The landscaping was done in the cheap builder's grade stuff, no blooms, no color, just greenery, and the mulch looked like it had seen better days. I didn't recognize anyone from the wake, though I knew the funeral was a public thing and the wake was more close family and friends. It was very possible that I wouldn't run into a lot of people from the wake because some of them would decide not to come to both. One thing I did know and had been thinking about since I'd gone to Chase's work was that I needed to be very careful to avoid any of his former co-workers especially since I was here under false pretenses now and pretending to be Candy.
It was a mistake to have gone to C&C, but it had solidified my theory of foul play. I nodded to the stragglers, as I reached to pull the door open. I felt my dress hitch up a little too high and heard the gasp of one of the guests. I pressed my lips together to keep from snickering even as hot color filled my cheeks. A blast of welcome cool air hit me in the face as I stepped inside.
There were even more people milling around here, but this time it was like a record skipped and scratched when I made my appearance. To both my delight and utter mortification, mouths dropped open and several people gasped as I walked past. This dress was doing the trick and Candy Harper was in full force today. But...was I attracting too much attention to myself? The fact that Emma wanted me wearing something even more risqué had not slipped my mind. If I’d listened to her, it's possible I would get kicked out of this place.
A lovely woman rushed around the corner and barreled straight toward me. "Oh!" Emma said on a gasp, as she skidded to a stop. "Candy! You're here. Lovely!" She was out of breath and looked a little harried. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my arm and dragged me around the corner. I let myself be led, stumbling a little in the ridiculous heels I was wearing.
Emma pulled me into the closest restroom, bent way down to check all the stalls, and then spun back to me. "Is it true?" she said, her voice ending in a high screech.
I blinked. "Is what true?"
"What Sissy said? Was my son murdered?"
I swallowed hard once. Twice. Three times. What in the world was I going to tell this woman? The only proof I had was conjecture at best, gossip at worst. "Um," I said.
Emma stared at me with impatience. "Kitty, if you know something, I want to know. Right now."
I let out a groan. "Emma, I'm so sorry. Sissy shouldn't have said anything. I have zero proof."
A light went out in her eyes. "Nothing?"
The info I did have wasn't enough to keep putting false hope into her heart. "No." I skimmed over most of the info I had, though I did tell her his doctor had told him to find another job. "The only thing other than that I know for sure is that he was planning on breaking up with Candy before he died."
She shut her eyes and let out a slow breath. "Okay. You think something might have happened to him because of that?" Emma frowned. "Candy didn't seem dangerous, just completely self-absorbed."
"Maybe, but like I said, I don't have enough to prove anything." Thank goodness I hadn't told Sissy I was heading to Chase's work. That would have been disastrous.
Emma leaned against the sink and crossed her arms in a defensive gesture. "Okay. I guess I shouldn't have gotten so worked up. It's just..." Her eyes began to water and one tear fell down her cheek. "It's just hard to believe that my son passed away like this. So suddenly. I mean, I know heart problems can do that, but I just...it's so hard to fathom how someone in the prime of their life can slip away like that."
I touched her arm. "I'm so sorry, Emma. I promise you if I find anything concrete you'll be the first to know." It was a lie. I'd contact the police first, but I felt like I had to say something.
The door to the restroom opened with a crack. I stepped up to the sink and pretended to be washing my hands.
Emma wa
ited for a moment before she stepped out, ignoring the woman who saw her and tried to give her condolences.
I felt like the worst sort of person. Ruthie and Seth had been right. I never should have said a word to Sissy about any of this. It was just when I heard her suspicions, I thought it would be better to talk to each other to see if we could figure something out together. I'd given false hope to Emma. I probably couldn’t have made a bigger mistake.
When I left the restroom, I hardened my expression and waltzed into the chapel area like I owned the place. No longer was I Kitty Crawford, small town country girl. I was Candy Harper, city and corporate girl extraordinaire. Also, terrible girlfriend and potential murderer.
It was the weirdest most surreal role I'd ever played in my life. But after what had just happened, I owed it to Emma to play it like I'd never played anything else.
Just as I was about to sit down, albeit carefully in the dress, a woman came up to me with a frown. "I'm sorry," she said, and I was about to accept the condolences when I realized she wasn't finished. "I'm not sure you should be sitting up here with family."
I looked around for a name tag, automatically assuming she worked here, and when I didn't see one, I offered up a vacuous smile. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've been introduced?"
The woman, slightly older wore a pinched expression as if she'd expected her passive aggressive orders to be obeyed immediately. "I'm family," she said, her voice on the snappish side.
I blinked my false eyelashes a little too rapidly. "Oh?" I said. "I didn't see you at the wake. Are you an aunt, perhaps?"
Her face tightened. "Cousin," she seethed.
"Oh!" I said brightly. "I met quite a few of the cousins and didn't see you there, nor did I hear about you. Maybe second or third?"
The woman's face went crimson. "Third."
"Well," I gave her a thin smile. "Then I'm sure you don't know where I should be seated then, do you? I'm Chase's fiancée, and I've never heard of you. Perhaps you should check with the coordinators here before you accuse people again, hmm? I wouldn't bother Emma with this. She has enough to deal with today, don't you think?"