When they were ready and the forensics technician had sealed the pouch they sought out Ryan.
“Hamilton hospital or local?” asked Marcia.
“Local,” said the Detective Sergeant. “We have the husband in custody. He had no problem letting us know it was his wife’s fault.” He shook his head in disgust. “I spoke with the daughter earlier, she is in shock, obviously. One of you may be hearing from her tomorrow or the next day. Sue, can you follow through at the hospital? I will have the forensics tech follow you.” Sue nodded.
As they left the house carrying the stretcher a reporter approached. Sue immediately stepped in front of her and directed her to Detective Sergeant Gillespie. The reporter was persistent and did her best to have her cameraman get into a good position. Marcia and Jennifer were used to such tactics and shielded the covered stretcher from the camera’s lens. They didn’t linger, loading the body quickly, Sue scrambled to the little stool behind Marcia, Jennifer took the passenger seat. The forensic tech signalled his readiness and the sad little procession drove slowly to the hospital morgue. In the side view mirror Jennifer could see the cameraman move into the street to film the back of the van as it pulled away.
“Ryan wants me to stay at the funeral home until he’s finished, then he will follow me home,” said Marcia. “I don’t ever recall an officer or anyone for that matter making sure we were safe when we did all those coroner’s calls in Toronto.”
“Well, not quite true,” said Jennifer. “We had protection at the scene, just like here, and we had the usual escort to the hospital.”
“That’s where it ended. Ryan is perhaps a bit overcautious. The husband is in custody.”
“Ryan loves you,” said Jennifer bluntly. “That’s the difference between Toronto and here. Not to mention, Travis is still on the loose. We still have cake left and we can watch a movie. Sound like a plan?”
“I’m game,” said Sue.
“Sounds like a good idea. We can pull straws to see who picks the movie.” The three of them did not discuss the homicide again.
In no time they had taken care of business at the hospital and were back at the apartment. Grimsby was delighted to see them and went on a tear, racing up and down and around the furniture. The three of them laughed at his antics.
“Did you get into the catnip while we were gone?” said Jennifer after he stopped long enough for her to pet him.
Jennifer won the straw pull, picked the movie, a comedy and set up her laptop to stream to the TV. It was almost over when Ryan texted to say he was in the parking lot. Marcia extracted herself from the couch with a groan.
“I’m stiff and sore and I can’t wait to have a bath,” she said. I can catch the ending of the movie on my computer. She gave Jennifer a hug. “Big day for you as well, Ms. Owner of two funeral homes. See you tomorrow.”
As Sue walked Marcia down to the garage door, Jennifer picked up the dishes and put them on the counter before walking to the window to see Ryan waiting beside Marcia’s car. A tiny movement of dim light caught her eye: the curtain in the upper window of Simon’s house was askew. Must be Rosie, she thought. But as Ryan and Marcia left, the curtain dropped. A sense of unease flooded Jennifer’s synapses. Something wasn’t quite right.
***
“Good morning!” Sue said happily as she poured water into the percolator in the apartment kitchen. “Good news. My friend in Toronto has a lead on an acquaintance of Winter’s. He’s going to do his best to track her down today or tomorrow. Winter’s landlord didn’t remember her name, just where she worked.”
“Oh, I hope it works out!” Jennifer finished buttoning her suit jacket as she exited her bedroom. “Did he have anything else to say?”
“Just that he’s going to call me in the next few days. Let’s hope it’s a good lead. I’ll make breakfast.”
“Thanks Sue, I’m going downstairs to get some work done.”
“Sure, I’ll get you when it’s ready.”
Downstairs Jennifer started at the top of the list of articles that Haney had given her, focusing on the important points. Sue came down to get her for breakfast a short while later, and they chatted over coffee before Jennifer opened the funeral home for the day as Sue came down the stairs.
“I need a haircut,” said Jennifer. “Is there some way I can go to the mall to my regular hairdresser? I have an appointment for next week, but I’d rather go today.” She tried to push flyaway strands of hair back into her bun.
“I think so.”
“Then I’ll try to get an appointment for later today.” Jennifer called using her cell, where the number to her stylist was on speed dial. Marco was free at 4:30 and Jennifer gladly accepted.
“Oh, I almost forgot. It’s just a hunch and maybe I am overreacting but I get the feeling we’re being watched—and not just because Travis knew I was in the coach.” She told Sue about the window in Simon’s house.
“Let’s test it, then. At some point I’ll have you step outside and I’ll watch from upstairs. If we do go out, I could pull up under the portico at the front and you could duck down until we’re out of sight. I know it seems like an overcautious and silly reaction, but I’d rather overreact than overlook something important.”
Jennifer nodded. “It’s not sill—” The phone rang. “Spencer Funeral Home, Jennifer speaking.”
“My name is Evelyn. My son-in-law Greg is in the hospital. We’d like to discuss funeral costs.”
“When would you and your family like to meet?” Jennifer slid over a note pad and snagged a pen from the desk drawer.
“Can you come to the hospital? He’s being transferred to palliative care. Is one o’clock OK?”
“It is,” said Jennifer gently. “What hospital is Greg in?”
After finalizing the details, Jennifer went to the front office and prepared a file. Perhaps Marcia could cover the phone from Williams when I meet with the family, she thought. She hit the speed dial for Williams. Desta answered on the second ring and Jennifer was once again impressed by her quiet and dignified demeanour.
“Hi Desta, it’s Jennifer. How are things?”
“Hello Jennifer. We’re busy today. Marcia has two calls, one was a house call last night. There is another family coming in this evening to make arrangements, making it three.”
“I have a call as well, but if you need help, please let me know.”
“Elaine would like to speak to you. I’ll hand you over.”
“Hi Jennifer. I want to pop over and update the accounting software. Is that OK?”
“I’ll ask Sue, hang on.” She presented Elaine’s request.
“We’ll be here all morning, is she available now?” asked Sue.
“Can you come now Elaine? I have to meet with a family at one offsite.”
“On my way.”
Jennifer used her cellphone to call Marcia who, in spite of the pressure and workload, was still cheerful.
“You could probably use an extra pair of hands,” said Jennifer.
“I definitely could use an extra pair of licensed hands. The family of the murdered woman will be in this evening. Is there any way you could cover for the house call I did last night? That family will be having a private visitation this evening, just a few friends. No embalming, closed casket, cremation tomorrow.”
“Anything else I can do?”
“Desta, Elaine, and Jeff are taking care of most of the details, paperwork, and running around, so at the moment it’s all good.”
“My afternoon is pretty well booked, but I’ll definitely be there around 5:30 if that’s OK.”
“That’s perfect. See you later.”
Sue and Jennifer rehearsed their self-defence moves and discussed the articles Haney had assigned. Sue added a few points and Jennifer listened intently.
“Over and over you hear about fight or flight. It’s a physiological response to a threat. Sometimes it means flight, not fight. There’s no right or wrong. Each situation, each individual, is
going to respond differently, the end game is to get away from your attacker.”
They took a coffee break, made a grocery list, then Jennifer went to her office to tidy up while Sue phoned in the order. She put the documents from the purchase of Williams Funeral Home in the safe, ordered a few supplies, and double-checked the email.
Sue brought lunch downstairs a little later.
“I think it is my turn to do some cooking Sue, you’ve been busy making meals.” They moved to the lounge where they sat in the quiet, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Funeral homes are sort of like working in homicide,” said Sue, breaking the silence. “You’re either very busy or going through quiet spells.”
“Your quiet spells would be spent following up leads.” Jennifer smiled. “Mine are spent on maintenance, cleaning, and taking courses. I’m way behind in my business courses right now.” She rose. “I am going to run upstairs and freshen up. Meet you out front in five minutes?”
“No. If I pull out and up to the front door that leaves the back door vulnerable with only one lock. I’ll meet you in the garage in five. You can double-lock the door and meet me at the front.”
“OK.”
Upstairs Jennifer stared at herself in the mirror. Feeling restricted made her tense up and frown more and she was starting to resent it. She studied her face and eyes—fine worry lines encircled a lack-luster gaze. She not only felt but could see her emotions reflecting back at her.
“I hate you Travis,” she whispered.
10
As Jennifer entered the quiet, calm atmosphere of the palliative care unit she saw a well-dressed white-haired lady standing near the nurse’s station. She looked tired and a bit beaten down by life. When she spotted Jennifer, she straightened up and approached.
“Jennifer?”
“Yes.” She accepted the woman’s outstretched hand.
“Evelyn. We spoke earlier.” Evelyn opened her mouth to say something then snapped it shut.
Jennifer sensed her uncertainty.
“Is there anything you wish to tell me before we join your daughter?” Jennifer asked gently.
Evelyn hesitated. “Well, yes, but ...”
Jennifer took her arm and steered her off to the side, away from the view from the nursing station. “Whatever you have to say can be said in confidence.”
Evelyn’s mouth was set in a straight line at she pondered her next statement. “My son-in-law’s family doesn’t want a funeral. I think that’s wrong. I offered to pay for it but they’ll have none of it.” Once she spoke the words she seemed to relax.
“What does Greg want?”
“He and my daughter Linda want a private family service in a chapel followed by cremation.”
“Not to be too personal, but up to this point have you and Greg’s family been close?”
Evelyn looked intently at Jennifer and her shook her head. “No, his family didn’t want him to marry Linda. Had other plans for him. But I’ve done my best to get along. They’re civil with me, but that’s all.”
“Funerals are for the living. If you and Linda and friends wish to have a funeral service, then do what you need to do. Greg’s family may wish to end it here, in the palliative care unit and that’s equally fine.”
Evelyn teared. “Do you think so?”
“You’re honouring Greg and Linda’s wishes. His family may be missing out, but if they choose not to attend, then that is their choice. Did you have an idea of where you wanted to hold the service?”
“Greg and Linda live next to a little nineteenth century Methodist church. It’s small and intimate. It’s no longer used, but a custodian takes good care of it and I have a friend who knows a celebrant.”
“Have you and Linda discussed this?”
Evelyn nodded. “All three of us have. It was Greg’s idea.”
“Then rest assured Evelyn, I’ll help you carry out Greg, Linda, and your wishes. Are Greg’s parents with him now?”
“They’ll be back by 2 p.m. Do you want to meet Greg and Linda now?”
“I do, please.” Evelyn led her into Greg’s room. It was intimate and comfortably furnished. A young woman rose and hugged Evelyn.
“Hi honey.” She released her daughter. “Linda, this is Jennifer, our funeral director.”
Linda took a few steps forward and threw her arms around Jennifer. They were the same height, size, and age. Caught off guard, Jennifer nevertheless hugged her back.
Linda released Jennifer and walked over to Greg, taking his hand. He was sedated and asleep. The young man lying there looked thin, almost skeletal, his skin yellow and sallow. His wedding band was taped to his finger so it wouldn’t slide off.
“This is my husband Greg.” Linda’s love for the dying man blossomed from the softness in her voice and face. “Tomorrow is our fourth wedding anniversary. He said he was going to hang on until then.”
“Jennifer has agreed to arrange the service at your little church. We’ll just have to go ahead without his family.”
Linda looked at her mom, then Jennifer. “I’ll let his sister know. She might want to come.”
“Do you have some paperwork for us?” asked Evelyn.
“I do,” said Jennifer. “I also have a few questions about the newspaper notice, the celebrant’s information, and the funeral.”
The next half hour passed quickly as the three of them quietly completed the details for Greg’s service. Jennifer gave both women her card and instructions to call her anytime. She informed them she’d notify the answering service they were to be put through to her, regardless of the hour.
Greg had not wakened or stirred once, so Jennifer walked over to the bed, took his hand in both hers, and stood quietly beside him for a minute. “Godspeed,” she whispered to him before she turned, said her goodbyes to Linda and Evelyn, sharing the solemn moment.
As she left the unit, Jennifer thought about the love the two woman had for Greg. It was a far cry from the hatred that overcame her earlier when she thought of Travis; when she spotted him on the corner after the Gordon funeral. I can’t let this destroy me, she thought as she stopped outside the palliative care unit and texted Sue.
I have to be on guard and alert at all time, but I don’t have to harbour hatred. She remembered the saying that “hatred was self-punishment”, a quote Uncle Bill used to use when he was dealing with difficult families. Greg’s parents, in their effort to control their son, were only hurting themselves.
“Jennifer!”
She jumped a little and turned. Chaplain Regina Salinas strode down the hall toward her.
“Hi Regina.”
The Chaplain greeted Jennifer with a hug then cocked her head toward the palliative care unit doors. “Arrangement?”
“Yes.”
“Greg?”
“Greg and Linda and Evelyn.”
“Poor Evelyn. She didn’t want to upset Greg’s parents. Didn’t know what to do. Was she able to do what Greg and Linda wanted? Greg’s parents are not the easiest people to be around.”
“They’ll be holding a service for Greg.” Jennifer caught sight of Sue coming. The three of them spent the next few minutes talking about Winter, and Sue agreed to call the shelter to see if they could visit again tomorrow. As they spoke, Jennifer watched an older couple approaching, the woman’s face etched in bitterness.
“Chaplain! Why aren’t you in there with my son? I asked you to sit with him while we were gone.” She turned to her husband. “You were right, we should have taken him to the hospice.”
“I had another call,” Regina said calmly. “Shall we go in and check on him now?” Regina moved forward and held the door open for them. As they walked through, she smiled back at Sue and Jennifer and mouthed the words see you tomorrow.
“I could never be a Chaplain,” Jennifer said, shaking her head.
“I could never be a Chaplain or a funeral director,” Sue echoed, shaking her head.
“Nor could I ever be a police offic
er.” Jennifer smiled. “I’m too short.” The two women laughed.
“I have an idea. We could use a pleasant interlude and it will be good for the soul. I can see how tense you’ve been lately. We have a bit of time, would you like to go to a lavender field? There’s one in Niagara on the Lake, they have a little shop and we can walk through the fields.”
“Really? That sounds like something from a romance novel. I’d love to go. I didn’t know lavender was still in bloom in October.”
“I haven’t been either, a friend recommended it. It’s not far from here. They give tours right up to the end of the month.”
Upon arrival, they took the field tour. Jennifer stood looking at the vast purple space in front of her and inhaled deeply. The sun shone in a chill, yet clear blue sky as a gentle breeze and the scent of lavender wafted through the air. Sue stood beside her, breathing in the aroma.
“It’s like a fairyland,” Jennifer said, her eyes closed as she immersed herself in the scent. For over an hour the two women allowed themselves to be transported into a different world where there was no Travis, no death.
They puttered through the shop, enjoying the subtle colours of the lavender products.
“I always thought lavender was for old ladies,” Jennifer said, leaving the shop with a parcel of soaps and oils.
“Me too,” laughed Sue. “My first thought when I got a whiff was it smelled like my grandmother. I adored my grandmother.”
As they stored their treasures in the back seat, Sue got behind the wheel of the car and backed them out of the lot. “Thank you, Sue,” Jennifer said as they drove to the hairdresser. “It was perfect. I feel a little guilty leaving the funeral home unattended for so long though.”
“Me too. Going to the lavender fields was something I had planned to do on a day off. I just made it a few hours off instead.”
“It felt safe there, didn’t it? Not once did I think about Travis or work or Winter.”
“Completely, I wasn’t hyper vigilant.”
Sue’s comment made Jennifer feel a little ashamed. She hadn’t fully considered the impact being a bodyguard had on Sue. As a Detective Constable “on assignment”, she was on duty twenty-four hours a day. But she never complained. Her job meant putting Jennifer’s needs above her own.
Winter's Mourning Page 11