by Marta Perry
“Of course. Come in.” She was proud of how calm she managed to sound.
Her father-in-law’s glance took in the two boys playing noisily in the dining room and Judith, standing in the kitchen door watching them. Kevin looked up.
“Hi, Grandfather.” He was obviously torn between his grandfather’s arrival and the lure of his new toys.
The judge’s face relaxed in a smile. “I see you’re having fun with your new building set.”
“It’s the best toy ever,” Kevin said, giving an extravagant gesture. “Come and see it.”
“Another time, all right?”
Before she could wipe the smile from her face, the judge turned back to her. “We’ll need to talk in private. This isn’t for Kevin’s ears.”
He could hardly expect her to send Judith and the two boys out in the rain.
“Why don’t we talk on the porch? It is a little noisy inside. Kevin is certainly enjoying the building set Sylvia brought him.”
Without replying, the judge stepped back out onto the porch and waited for her to follow him. She did so, closing the door.
The rain had cooled the air, and she ran her hands along her arms to warn them. Although given the coolness of the judge’s stare, that might equally well be the cause of her chill.
“Is something wrong?” She wouldn’t precipitate matters by plunging into questions about what Sylvia might have let slip to him. If that was why he’d come, he’d have to bring it up himself.
“I heard something about you that I find very upsetting.”
She held her breath, mind searching for possible responses that would satisfy him.
Then he went on. “Jason Glassman mentioned that you are making yourself responsible for the funeral for Dixie James. In the church, no less. I couldn’t believe he had it right, but he seemed sure.”
For an instant Deidre was so relieved that this wasn’t about Sylvia that she didn’t actually respond. And then the meaning of his words penetrated.
“What is so surprising about that? Dixie was a friend, and she has no family here. Her mother asked me to handle the arrangements.”
“You should have had sense enough to tell her no. Why on earth would you agree to such a thing?”
The biting tone of his question had her crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself. “I told you. She was my friend.” Surely he could understand that.
Her father-in-law’s responding look was wintry. “Not a very suitable friend. Surely you know how she encouraged men to chase after her. It was bad enough that she was murdered in your house. Now you want to connect yourself to her still further. Don’t you know how people will talk?”
Shaken by his vehemence, she bit back a hasty response and tempered her tone. “Franklin, I’m sure you’re overreacting. People won’t think anything except that I’m doing a kindness for Dixie’s mother, who wasn’t able to make the trip.”
His jaw worked, and she thought he was struggling to regain control of himself. She’d never seen him lose his temper—that wasn’t his way. He could tear a defendant’s excuses to ribbons with a cool, judicious judgment, but he prided himself on fairness. Surely he’d see that he was being unreasonable.
“I suppose it’s too late now to change things,” he conceded finally. He stared out at the slanting rain instead of looking at her. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty, but I don’t like to see you subjecting yourself to more talk.”
“I know you meant it for the best.” Relief that he’d returned to normal made her a little giddy. “Dixie’s death has generated a lot of talk, but I’m sure it will fade. As soon as the police arrest someone, things will return to normal.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded grudgingly. “As to an arrest, Carmichaels doesn’t seem to be any closer to a suspect. Unless Kevin remembers something...” He let that trail off.
“He hasn’t, and I don’t think that’s likely. And even if he does eventually remember the events of that night, he may still not have seen enough to identify the man.”
“In my opinion, we’ll probably never know,” he said abruptly.
That was apparently his final word. With a quick nod, he unfurled his black umbrella and headed for his car.
Deidre stood for a moment, not ready to go back inside and let Kevin see her face. That had been the most distasteful conversation she’d ever had with her father-in-law. He’d always had concern for appearances, but why he’d think the funeral would make matters worse, she couldn’t imagine. And she still didn’t have any idea whether Sylvia’s warning had been an alcoholic dream or a solid fact.
* * *
A SURPRISING NUMBER of people filed into the church sanctuary for Dixie’s funeral. Deidre, turning slightly from the front pew, took a quick survey and hoped the women’s group had provided enough food. A foolish thought—there was always enough and some to spare for these events.
Was it curiosity, kindness, or both that prompted so many people to leave their work or their homes this morning? Maybe a little of each. Dixie would undoubtedly have been sarcastic about it, had she known. A smile at the thought eased the tension that had been gripping her throat.
Odd. There was Trey Alter, with Jason Glassman right behind him. Well, not odd that Trey would be present. He’d been a couple of years older, but he’d have known Dixie when they were kids, and he was well enough established with the firm that he wouldn’t be swayed by Judge Morris’s disapproval.
But she hadn’t expected to see Jason. She hadn’t forgotten how caustic he’d been about her trust in Dixie the last time she’d spoken to him. Was he here as the judge’s surrogate? Surely not, given her father-in-law’s attitude toward the whole idea of the funeral.
She’d decided that this would be too much for Kevin, so he was enjoying himself following Eli around the farm this afternoon with Benjy. He hadn’t asked any further questions about Dixie, and she hadn’t been sure whether to bring up the subject or let it alone.
The organist came to the end of the piece she’d been playing while people were entering, and Adam stepped forward to the pulpit. She suspected he was nervous about conducting such a high-profile funeral, but he was hiding it well. He announced an opening hymn, and the service was underway.
Deidre tried to concentrate on the familiar words of the service and not let her mind wander to other funerals, other losses. Sometimes focusing fiercely on the words was the only thing that kept the tears at bay.
She had chosen not to have people share their memories of Dixie, given the circumstances, so the service moved on quickly. But that didn’t keep her from recalling her own memories of Dixie...the time they’d slept in an improvised tent in the backyard and clung together each time they heard a noise; their efforts to convince her mother to let them start a dog-washing business one summer; the hikes up to the falls, where they scared each other by repeating all the legends that had grown up around the spot.
Jason wondered how she could have such trust in Dixie, but how could she not, when they’d shared so much of their childhoods? With Dixie gone, a part of her childhood was vanished, as well. No one else shared those particular memories, and Dixie’s passing had left a hole in her life.
By the time the funeral drew to its close, Deidre was holding back tears only by an enormous effort. Maybe that was one of the functions of a funeral, to push you to experience those emotions and deal with them.
People began to move, most following Adam’s directions and going out the door that would lead them to the lunch prepared in the fellowship room.
She slid the hymnal into its rack and noticed Jason coming toward her. But before he reached her, Gary Wilson was there, taking her arm.
“Hang in there. If you want to slip out, we’ll keep things moving along here.” His professional solemnity vanished for a moment when he smiled, reminding
her of the kid he’d been, always in trouble for talking back. “I can guess what Dixie would say about all this ceremony, can’t you?”
“Pretty well.” She couldn’t believe he’d managed to amuse her, but that was Gary’s gift. “Thanks, but I’ll stay.”
“Good for you. I’ll check back later to see if you need anything.”
As Gary slipped away, Jason moved up beside her. “Another one of your childhood friends?” he asked, and she couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic.
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s impossible to get away from them. Gary wanted to know how I was holding up.”
“Looked like he said something funny.”
“He wondered what Dixie would have said to all this. She’d have found it funny, I think.” At the thought of Dixie, her eyes suddenly filled with tears and her throat closed.
“I’m sorry.” His voice went low, and his hand closed warmly over her arm. “Take it easy.”
She blotted tears away. “Give me a second, and I’ll be good as new.”
Jason nodded and stood where he was, his tall frame effectively shielding her from the people who moved past the pew. It was hard to remember that she was annoyed with him when he was being so kind. Deidre touched her nose with the tissue. Some women might be able to weep attractively, but she doubted she was one of them.
She slid the tissue into her bag and gave him a genuine smile. “There, all better. Won’t you come over to lunch?”
“The funeral baked meats?” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I qualify. I didn’t even know her.”
“You’re here. That’s what counts.” She gave him a nudge toward the door. “Come on. The food will be good. The women of the church always go all out for a funeral.”
Ahead of them, elderly Grace Fleming glanced back, obviously overhearing the remark. “It’s the last thing we can do for someone, so it ought to be the best food we can manage. How are you, Deidre? And who is this young man?”
Jason blinked, apparently not used to being called a “young man,” but in comparison to Miss Grace’s ninety-some years, anyone under fifty was young.
“This is Jason Glassman, Miss Grace. He’s the new attorney in the judge’s office. Jason, this is Miss Grace Fleming. She ran the only nursery school in town for a number of years, along with being the only person who could ever keep order in the junior high Sunday school class.”
Jason took the fragile hand that was extended to him, bending down to the diminutive figure. Miss Grace never disappointed. She wore her usual navy blue sprigged dress that she’d worn to every funeral in town for as long as anyone could remember.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Fleming. I’m sorry it’s under such sad circumstances.” To do him credit, he sounded genuine.
Miss Grace sighed. “Sad indeed. Dixie was such a promising child. It’s too bad there was so much trouble when she got into her teen years. I’ve always thought a different home environment would have made all the difference for her.” She shook her head and began moving toward the hallway. “Poor child,” she murmured. “Poor, lost child.”
Jason fell into step with Deidre, apparently accepting her lunch invitation. “Chief Carmichaels mentioned that Dixie went off the rails when she hit her teens. Is that how you remember it?”
“I suppose so.” She frowned. “It’s funny how things change as kids start to mature. Suddenly Dixie didn’t seem to be remotely interested in the things that the rest of the girls liked. All she could talk about was makeup and boys. It was as if she’d grown up overnight.”
“So you grew apart,” he concluded.
Deidre remembered why she was annoyed with him. “I suppose you think that’s a reason why I shouldn’t have trusted her with my son.”
The line had spread out as people entered the large room where lunch was being served, with some heading straight for the buffet line while others sought out friends or staked a claim on a table. Jason stepped to the side, away from the nearest cluster of people, drawing her with him with his hand at her elbow. He stood looking down at her quizzically.
“Is that a cue that I should be apologizing for what I said about your trusting nature?”
“You might take it that way.” Deidre looked up at him. Was that warmth in his eyes?
“That presents me with a problem, you see.” His tone was light, but there was something she couldn’t identify running underneath the lightness. “It really does worry me that you trust people so easily. I know, I know. You’re going to tell me that you know all these people inside and out.”
“I’m not as naive as all that.” She tried to keep her tone light in return, but it was suddenly hard to concentrate. She was too aware of how close he was. His hand moved to the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm, sliding down toward her hand very slowly. “I mean, I...I know that people have some secrets they keep. Everyone does, even if it’s something perfectly harmless.”
“What’s your secret, Deidre?” His voice was so low that the words reached her in a whisper.
The movement of his fingers against her skin was setting up a ripple of heat. Disconcerting. She hadn’t felt this in...well, she didn’t know when she’d felt this. All the more reason to be cautious.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?” To her annoyance, her voice came out in a whisper, as well. People would be looking at them, wondering... “Besides, you haven’t told me yours.”
He released her arm, and her skin was cold where an instant ago it had been alive with warmth. “Too many to name,” he said. He glanced toward the table. “Are you getting in line?”
“No, I...I’d better make the rounds and greet people.” She stepped away from him. What was wrong with her?
Jason nodded, his lean face expressionless. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”
Deidre tried to concentrate on the people she spoke with, but even with the length of the room between them, she was still too intensely aware of Jason’s presence. It was as if there were a live wire connecting them, running across the room, making her aware of his every movement.
Carrying a laden plate, he’d made his way to the table where Trey was sitting. They exchanged a word or two, and then Jason sat down next to him.
“Deidre, I don’t think you heard a word I said.” Enid Longenberger, president of the library board, gave her a sharp glance. “You’re looking pale. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to be sure I’d thanked everyone who came. Dixie would have been so pleased.”
Actually, Dixie would have had some tart words, but Enid didn’t need to hear that.
“You take my advice and get something to eat yourself. You need to keep up your strength with all the worry you’ve been through.” Enid gave her a little push. “Go on, now. I was going to ask your advice about the annual book sale, but that can wait. Now scoot.”
She wasn’t sure lunch would help what ailed her at the moment, but she certainly didn’t want to start talking about the library book sale just now. Deidre moved toward the serving table, carefully not looking to see if there was an empty seat at Jason’s table.
A movement by the door caught her eye. The heavyset man who stood there wasn’t anyone she’d ever seen before. Odd. She’d have said she knew every soul who was likely to attend Dixie’s funeral, but she didn’t know him.
She ought to speak to him...but before she could move in his direction, the man seemed to notice her staring. He turned, shoved open the door and vanished in the direction of the street.
Odd, she thought again. Dixie’d undoubtedly had friends where she’d lived before coming back to Echo Falls, and it was conceivable that some of them would come to the funeral. But why had the man left so quickly when he saw her watching him?
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHEN JASON ARRIVED back at the office after the funeral, he was greeted by Evelyn with the message that the judge wanted to see him as soon as he returned. To complain because he’d left the office to attend the funeral of a woman he didn’t even know?
It shouldn’t be that. After all, the judge’s interests were supposedly being served by Jase sticking close to Deidre.
Close. He paused with his hand on the door. If the judge could have read his mind in those minutes he’d stood holding on to Deidre and feeling her skin warm under his hand... Don’t think about it, he ordered himself. Especially not while he was talking to the judge.
Franklin Morris was standing at the window, staring out, when Jason entered the room. He didn’t turn when he spoke.
“Did anything untoward happen at the funeral?”
The question startled Jase. What did the judge imagine could have happened in such a setting? “Nothing that I’m aware of. The minister led a short service, and then everyone adjourned to the church hall for lunch.”
“All their tongues clacking away, I suppose.” Frowning, Judge Morris took his seat behind the desk.
“I suppose so.” The judge had made it clear that he hadn’t liked Deidre’s participation in the funeral. Was that why? A fear of gossip? Jase would think someone in the judge’s position would be immune to such concerns.
The judge looked at him from under lowering brows. “Have you learned anything?”
Anything negative about Deidre, in other words. Something in him rebelled. “Nothing,” he said flatly. “In my opinion, there’s nothing to find. There’s no indication she’s remotely interested in any man.” He seemed to feel the warmth of her skin again, to see the blue of her eyes darkening as she looked at him.
“If the man is married, as my son suspected, they would be careful.”