“Good. That’s good.” Penny nodded sharply.
“She told me something interesting.”
“Oh?”
“Her long-term sub, for her third grade class, is Taylor Hall, Dan Weston’s fiancée.”
“Moss Creek is a small town,” Penny said.
“But Toby told me the police can’t reach her,” Lisa said. “Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”
“Playing the amateur detective again, dear?” Penny shook her head. “You need to keep your mind on the campaign. We have a very short window to convince the public that I’m their next mayor.”
“Maybe we should play up the petition,” Lisa said, switching gears. “If people see how honest you are, how could they resist voting for you?”
“I don’t know how we’d fit that on a yard sign or campaign poster,” Penny said.
“Ok, no, not on yard signs. But it would make a nice story in a mailer sent to potential voters.”
“Hmm, yes, it might. Or we could just let the story in the newspaper be the story and concentrate on my platform,” Penny said.
“What is your platform, Mom?” Lisa said.
“I want to encourage the development of more small business, more local business. And I want to work to attract more tourists to Moss Creek. We’re next to the Grand Canyon, one of the biggest natural attractions in the world, so we should have much more tourism than we do. I think encouraging small business could be a big part of bringing in more tourism dollars.”
“Ok, that’s something,” Lisa said.
“A town that depends on a single employer is a town on a high wire with no net,” Penny continued. “A city of entrepreneurship is a city with a future. Vote Penny Baldwin-Chance for mayor of Moss Creek.”
“Ok, I guess you’ve got your sound bite,” Lisa said. “I wonder if the radio station would interview you during the morning commute for one of their news minutes.”
“What about that Krumbsi app all the kids are using? Do you think we can make that a good platform for the campaign message?” Penny said.
Lisa shook her head. “After the whole Kaden Nicolini thing, the app turned into this weird online suicide note thing, and they shut it down.”
“Oh. That’s a shame. It would have been nice to bring more young people into the local political scene.”
Lisa and Penny spent the next hour brainstorming campaign publicity. Jan looked in on them from time to time while keeping the café running in the light customer traffic of early afternoon.
Just before 3:30, Lou hurried in. A look of relief passed across his face when he spied Lisa and Penny sitting by the fireplace.
“Hi, Dad,” Lisa said.
Penny stood to give him a chaste peck on the lips.
Lou pushed a chair next to hers and sat down. He pulled off his knit Moss Creek High School Tigers cap and sat fiddling with the blue and orange puff ball on top.
“Lou,” Penny said, putting her hand on his to still the fidgeting, “What is the matter?”
“I have to give a eulogy,” he blurted out. “Dan Weston was in the band, and his fiancée said I was his favorite teacher, and now I’m stuck.”
“Stuck?” Lisa said. “But you’re a great public speaker. After all those years in front of a class, this should be a cinch.”
“A cinch? A cinch? It’s every teacher’s worst nightmare. Do you know how many kids I taught over the course of my career?” Lou said.
“Uh, no. Not really,” Lisa said, trying to do the math in her head.
“Hundreds. Thousands maybe. Most of them, I can probably recognize when they say hi to me at the grocery store. But that’s because they say hi first.”
“Oh, but I’m sure they at least will give you some notes on what he’s been up to since high school,” Lisa said.
Penny shook her head and patted Lou’s hand.
“Let me ask you this. How many people do you feel like you know well enough to properly eulogize?” he said.
“Oh.”
“Exactly. The only thing worse would be having to eulogize a kid I did remember, because that would mean they were probably still in high school.” He sighed.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Penny said. “Nobody at a funeral really cares what the speakers say, as long as they say something nice.”
Lou took Penny’s hand in both of his and turned to make solid eye contact with her.
“Penny, will you come with me to the funeral?” he said. “With you by my side, I can handle whatever comes.”
Penny smiled. “That’s a silly question, my love.”
“It is?” Lou said.
“It is?” Lisa echoed.
“Of course I’m going to Dan Weston’s funeral. It would be terrible PR to skip it, especially after I was the one who found his body,” Penny said. “It’ll be even better with both of us there.”
Lou’s face glowed with gratitude and he kissed his wife’s hand. Lisa averted her eyes in case the kissing went any further.
“Maybe,” Penny said in a thoughtful tone, “maybe you can find a way to work a plug for my campaign into your speech. You know, the old ‘Dan loved politics and the town of Moss Creek, and so do I, which is why I hope everyone here will vote for my lovely wife for mayor,’ that kind of thing.”
“Mother!” Lisa said, a hand to her throat. “How can you even suggest using a funeral for a campaign stump speech? I thought you had more ethics than that.”
“Darling, ethics was petitioning the court. This is merely publicity. Nothing unethical about getting the word out, and meeting the people where they live,” Penny said.
“But this isn’t where they live, this is where they die!” Lisa said.
“They’re not all dead, or they wouldn’t be any good to the campaign.” Penny turned back to her husband. “Lou, would you like us to draft something for you?”
He tugged at his collar. “No, I can write my own draft. Thanks.”
Penny patted his hand some more, smiling with a far-off look in her eye.
“Uh, Dad, did Taylor call you herself to ask you to speak at Dan’s funeral?” Lisa said.
Lou nodded. “She did. She called me as soon as her class was dismissed. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. It’s just that Toby said the police were having a hard time reaching her,” Lisa said.
“That’s the younger generation for you,” Lou said. “Never want to answer their phone if they don’t know who’s calling. Do you know what would have happened if we took that attitude when we were young? We’d never talk to anyone! Caller ID is a luxury, but some people act like it’s a necessity these days.”
“Ok, dear,” Penny said, breaking in. “We’ve still got a lot to do for the campaign. We can talk about the kids these days another time. And you’ve got your speech to write.”
Lou’s face drooped. He put his hat back on and stood.
“Oh, one last thing. When and where is the funeral service?” Penny said.
“Tomorrow at 9 a.m., at St. Mary’s,” Lou said. “But we’ll go together, of course.”
“Of course,” Penny said. “Lisa, you need to be there, too. Do you have anything suitable to wear?”
Chapter 16
Lisa smoothed her hair and checked her appearance in the mirror in her bedroom. The navy skirt suit hadn’t seen much wear in the six or seven years since she’d last had a gig as an office temp. Lisa was grateful it still fit, and that she’d stuffed it in the back of the closet instead of donating it to Goodwill. The dove gray blouse had the subtle sheen of silk, but didn’t draw attention to itself under the suit jacket.
Her lipstick, which had appeared a subdued shade of maroon in the bathroom, was a garishly bright red seen under natural light. She scrubbed it off with a tissue and went to select something more neutral. More suitable to a funeral. She wanted to blend in, a mourner among mourners, not be the tart at the graveside. Maybe a nude peach shade would do.
She checked the time. Mo would be there
to pick her up any second. Lisa blotted her lipstick, slipped on a pair of black flats, and went downstairs to meet him.
Jan stood at the bottom of the stairs. She gave Lisa a brief hug.
“Don’t worry about anything, Lisa,” she said.
Lisa nodded a thanks. When she called Jan to cover for her so she could attend the funeral, she thought she’d left it clear that she wasn’t close to the deceased. But from Jan’s face, Lisa thought that point might have been lost in translation.
Mo came in the front door, setting the bell to jingling. He’d combed and gelled his curls down against his head, which made him look like a little boy on his way to church. The way he kept shifting his shoulders in his dark suit heightened that impression.
“Are you ready?” he said. He adjusted his hunter green tie and swallowed.
“You look nice,” Lisa said. “Let’s go.”
Mo held the passenger door open for Lisa as she climbed into the truck. She smiled, noting that the more formal garb had pushed his manners into more formal territory, as well.
They drove toward the church. Bright rays of sun made the March morning appear warmer than it was.
“Nice day for a funeral,” Lisa said.
“Hmm, I guess I always pictured funerals as going with rain and gloom,” Mo said.
“Don’t get much of that around here,” Lisa said. “One of the great things about Arizona.”
“I guess.” Mo adjusted his tie again, tugging at it to get more space between the knot and his throat. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
Lisa blinked. “About the weather?”
“No. About… uh, commitment and stuff.”
“Oh?” Lisa smoothed her skirt over her legs. Her fingers moved across the material, searching out errant cat hairs.
Mo drove on, carefully braking and signaling as they came on a line of cars waiting to turn into the St. Mary’s parking lot.
“And?” Lisa said, after waiting for him to finish his thought.
“Uh, that’s all. I’ve been thinking about it. I thought you should know.”
Lisa sighed. “Ok.”
Mo pulled into a parking space and jumped out to get Lisa’s door for her. He offered his arm and she tucked her hand around it.
Somberly dressed people streamed into the church. A knot clustered on the steps near the church doors opened, and Lisa saw Ethan Valentine in the center, pressing the flesh and beaming at his supporters. His wife Fern stood next to him in a simple black sheath dress. Her face held a sympathetic expression but her eyes registered boredom and irritation.
“Would you look at that guy?” Mo said in Lisa’s ear. “Only a real sleaze could make a funeral a campaign event.”
Lisa leaned her head on Mo’s shoulder. “Just wait until you hear what Mom wants Dad to say in the eulogy.”
He looked at her in shock. She gave a half shrug, acknowledging that she had never in her life had the power to keep Penny from doing anything.
“I wonder if my parents are here yet,” Lisa said, looking around for them in the crowd.
“They probably got here early if your Dad’s a speaker,” Mo offered.
They were just climbing the steps when a blur of rumpled black suit and long grizzled beard rushed past them.
“Shame! How dare you! This is a funeral, not a stump speech!” Billy Jack yelled, shaking his finger in Ethan Valentine’s face.
Olivia hurried after Billy Jack and put a hand on his arm. He shook her off. His face had turned almost as purple as Olivia’s purple batik dress.
“It’s your dirty politics that killed my cousin. Murderer!”
Ethan Valentine’s eyes glittered with anger, but he took a step back, pushing his wife behind him. Lisa caught a glimpse of Fern’s face, which had gone white. She clutched at her husband, trying to pull him into the church.
Billy Jack’s hands curled into fists, and he took another step toward the Valentines, continuing to yell and rage.
Mo guided Lisa away from the altercation.
“Maybe we should go in the other door,” he said.
Lisa, as curious as the rest of the crowd, stood on her toes to see what was going on.
“Back it up, folks, back it up,” a commanding voice rang out. Toby strode up the steps toward his mother and her unruly beau.
“Billy Jack, I’m going to need you to calm down, sir,” Toby said.
Billy Jack swung around, his face a mix of anger and sorrow. “He can’t make my cousin’s funeral into a political event! Our Danny boy is gone.”
“I understand this is a hard day, but I’m going to need you to calm down,” Toby repeated.
Taylor Hall, wearing a black polyester dress, tiptoed up the steps toward Billy Jack. She looked him full in the face for a minute, then held out her arms.
Billy Jack deflated like a balloon, all the fight going out of him. He hugged Taylor tightly, tears streaming down his face and into his beard.
Toby assessed the situation, then patted his mother’s arm gently.
“I’m going to need everyone to make their way into the church in an orderly fashion,” Toby said, and began directing the pedestrian traffic.
Lisa and Mo joined the flow of humanity into St. Mary’s and found a pew in the middle. Lisa spotted her parents toward the front of the church, two rows behind the family and off to one side. Olivia and Billy Jack took a seat in the very front, in a pew reserved for family. Taylor Hall sat next to Billy Jack and regularly dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
As the service went on, Lisa’s mind wandered back to the last funeral she’d attended. A former coworker at the Coffee Spot in LA had died in a car wreck. His improv troupe had held a memorial at the theater where they performed. It was the second time Lisa had been in the space, having gone to see one of his improv shows only a few months before he died. Everyone in the theater had worn tight black clothes, and for some of them it was a departure from their usual getup. The eulogies had been irreverent and funny, but had brought the whole house to tears.
Lisa looked around St. Mary’s. Aside from people in the family pew in front, she didn’t see many people crying. Toward the back, a few even appeared to be looking down at their phones. Scourge of the modern age, she thought.
Her attention was drawn back to the proceedings when her father’s name was announced.
Lou Chance walked to the podium, no hint of the previous day’s unease in his gait. He looked out over the crowd, sizing everyone up. She saw when he noticed the people in the back on their phones, and she glanced back at them. They felt his eyes on them, and several phones were sheepishly stowed in pockets and purses. Lou cleared his throat.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Lou Chance. Many of you know me from Moss Creek High School as Mr. Chance the band director. Dan Weston knew me that way, too.”
Lou cleared his throat again and looked at his notes for a moment.
“Every teacher dreads the moment when they get the call to be told that one of their students has died. Being a teacher means serving the future, serving life. If I had my way, every one of my students would outlive me, and they’d be the ones up here, laying an old man to rest.
“But Dan wasn’t an old man. He was just getting started. He didn’t have an easy path in life, but even as a kid playing piccolo in the freshman JV band, Dan had the drive to make something of himself.”
Lou paused and cleared his throat again, dabbing at his eyes with a tissue.
“We do not accept the loss of this young man, his life taken too soon. But we can envy heaven’s marching band its newest member, up there piping a jaunty tune on his piccolo.”
Lou dabbed his eyes again and looked out over the crowd.
“Goodbye, Dan. May you always be in step.”
Lou left the podium and returned to his seat. Lisa craned her neck to see her mother’s reaction to the completely nonpolitical eulogy. Penny’s blond head leaned in close to Lou’s ear as though whispering something to him.
Lou put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and pointed his face to the podium where the next speaker was fumbling with notes and tapping on the microphone.
After the service, the crowd was directed to the church hall for fellowship and refreshments.
Mo leaned down to Lisa’s ear. “Can we go now and skip the social hall?”
“No,” she whispered, “we’ve got to at least say something to Billy Jack. And I want to try to speak with Taylor.”
Mo nodded and straightened his shoulders. Lisa took his arm and they flowed with the crowd to the church hall.
Chapter 17
In the church hall, a line snaked around the room from the door to the tables of food. Lisa and Mo got in line. To pass the time until her turn to dish up some chicken enchilada casserole, funeral potatoes, and a cup of lemonade from a powdered mix, Lisa did some people-watching.
Billy Jack and Olivia were seated at a table near the food. Their plates were piled high, but only Olivia was eating. Billy Jack alternated between blowing his nose and shooting angry glances at Ethan Valentine.
The Valentines had set up camp on the other side of the room. Fern was pushing food around her plate. Ethan had several prominent businessmen at the table, and was regaling them with his professional wit and charm. Jake Peterman and Ryan Regent were hanging on his every word.
Lisa rolled her eyes and shuffled forward another step. A noise by the door caught her attention. A tiny baby was crying. Lisa whipped around to look and was rewarded by the sight of her best friend.
“It’s Carly,” Lisa said, nudging Mo.
He turned to look.
“I’m going to say hi. Save my place,” Lisa said.
She nodded and ‘Excuse me’ed her way across the room to her friend’s side and gave her an awkward hug.
“Hey, you. I didn’t see you inside,” Lisa said.
“Liam decided to have a blowout diaper just as we were leaving the house, so we were a little late,” Carly said.
“Is Gideon here?”
Carly shook her head. “He’s home taking a nap. We didn’t actually know Dan, but since Taylor is my long-term sub, I thought I’d come to show support for her.”
Killer Campaign (Lisa Chance Cozy Mysteries Book 3) Page 9