“Can I pick it up tomorrow?” Lilliana had no idea how she would do that, but she’d find a way. Somehow. After Ruby’s memorial service.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re closed on Saturday. Would you like us to hold it on Monday for you?”
Lilliana thought furiously. She still had no way to retrieve the package. Maybe she could intercept the delivery at the store. No, that wouldn’t work. Dan, the driver, would most certainly recognize her. Maybe she could get Frank or Lenny to do it. But how would she explain her strange request?
“Ma’am? Would you like us to hold the package?”
She’d better decide. She had two days to come up with a plan. “Please.”
Her tea was cold when she lifted it to her lips for another sip. However was she going to get to the depot? And would the fairies survive another three days shut up in the box?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LILLIANA climbed out of the van, then turned to help Willie descend onto the sidewalk in front of Rainbow Ranch Presbyterian Church. She held the walker ready as Miguel supported Willie’s weight. At first Lilliana had been surprised that Ruby’s memorial service was being held at a Presbyterian church, but apparently Ruby hadn’t had time to join a congregation in Benson and, since the only church in Rainbow Ranch was Presbyterian, whoever was in charge of making the arrangements had little choice.
She’d also been surprised at how many people had boarded the van to attend. Surely not all of them knew the victim well enough to be mourners. All of the regulars from the African Violet Club meeting had crowded into the seats. Bob Higgins had joined his wife for the excursion, but Lilliana had noticed Bob attended all the funerals. It was the closest thing he had to a social life.
The organist was playing appropriately dirge-like music as they entered the sanctuary. Lilliana chose a pew mid-way in the church, and Willie sat on the end beside her so he could leave his walker in the aisle. As it turned out, it was a good thing so many from the retirement community had come, because other than those from the van and Russell Ellison, only four other people were there, occupying the front pew. Lilliana would have thought from Willie’s description of Ruby, there would have been more people who came out from Tucson. Perhaps her reputation as a party girl hadn’t resulted in many lasting friendships.
Lilliana noticed both Sam Horn and Biff Buckley sneaking in at the last minute. They took up positions in opposite back corners of the church where they could watch everything that went on—and didn’t have to talk to one another. She was glad Buckley had had the decency not to bring his cameraman inside. People should have respect for the dead.
The organist concluded the prelude she’d been playing, and Pastor Douglas stepped to the front of the church.
“Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live,” he intoned. “This is God’s promise to us and we may take hope, even joy, from these words even as we mourn the passing of Ruby Robinson.” He said a few more words about the format of the service and then the organist started playing “Amazing Grace.” It wasn’t terribly different from a regular Sunday worship service until they got to the part where people shared memories of the deceased. Lilliana perked up when a black woman rose from the front row and stepped up to the podium. There was something familiar about her.
“My name is Coretta Ortiz. I’m Ruby Robinson’s daughter,” she said. “It’s good to see how many new friends my mother made in her short time at the retirement community.”
Lilliana took a closer look at her. Yes, she was an older version of the young woman she’d seen standing next to Ruby in the photograph.
“My mother had her faults, but she was a woman who enjoyed life. For her, every night was a party and every day a gift. She was happiest when she was on the stage, whether that was acting in a play at the community theater, singing in the church choir, or just playing out her role on the stage of life. She may not have always made the best choices, but she never got down on herself for making them. She just did something else and moved on.”
Coretta took her seat next to a man Lilliana assumed was her husband. None of the others in the first row rose to speak. Lilliana glanced at Willie beside her and he, feeling her gaze upon him, just shook his head.
When several seconds passed and no else one came forward to speak, Pastor Douglas announced, “As our final hymn, we’ll sing Mrs. Robinson’s favorite, “In the Sweet By and By.” The organist started playing the familiar gospel melody, but in a rather stilted mode, not the joyful swing Lilliana was sure Ruby had enjoyed. The mostly white audience didn’t lend it quite the flavor it deserved, instead mumbling along with the tune. She supposed there hadn’t been time to arrange for one of the gospel groups Ruby loved to attend the service. Beside her she could hear Willie humming in a rich, deep bass.
At the end of the hymn, Pastor Douglas announced there would be refreshments in the social hall next door. If there was anything a bunch of seniors clustered toward, it was the promise of free food. Lilliana and Willie shuffled along with the crowd toward the back of the church. A bottleneck formed at the exit because each person had to stop and pay their respects to the daughter and her husband.
As she and Willie waited their turn, Sam Horn sidled through the crowd until he stood next to Lilliana. “Any news on the investigation?”
Lilliana looked down her nose at the reporter. “I don’t believe this is the time or the place to discuss that.”
“Have a heart, Mrs. Wentworth. I have a deadline for this week’s edition. If I don’t get the story written and set up for today’s paper, Buckley is sure to scoop me. By next week, no one will be interested in reading about Ruby Robinson. It’s just the way the news is.”
Lilliana doubted that. Knowing them as she did, she was sure the residents of the retirement home would still be discussing the murder next Christmas. But he might be right as far as the townspeople were concerned. Ruby Robinson meant nothing to them, and their interest was sure to wane over the next week. It still didn’t seem right to gossip about it.
Sam was looking hopefully at her as she took another step forward. She decided to throw him a bone. “The investigation is proceeding as one would expect. Chief Cartwright is pursuing the matter, and I’m passing on whatever I find out to him.”
Speaking of the investigation, Chad Cartwright hadn’t shown up at the funeral. He was missing a chance to get more information from both the family and the curious. As the only police officer in the town of Rainbow Ranch, the young man was overworked. Which was why Lilliana felt obligated to snoop. It was her duty to offer her assistance, even if he hadn’t asked for it.
She and Willie shuffled forward a few steps, Sam clinging to them like lint.
“And have you found out anything interesting?” Sam asked eagerly, latching onto the last part of her statement.
In retrospect, she shouldn’t have implied that she knew more than she did. She was sure Sam would love to know about the card and the roses. That would add a nice, juicy love affair to the tale of murder. But she wasn’t going to tell him about either of those. She also had no intention of mentioning the chief’s conjectures about Willie. Unfortunately, Sam wasn’t going to let Willie escape unscathed.
“What do you know about the murder, Mr. O’Mara? As a former police officer, surely you have some insight into the case.”
Willie shook his head. “That’s up to Chief Cartwright. I’m retired and I have no part in the investigation.”
Sam turned around, a dejected look on his face as he perused the crowd. He was probably looking for someone more willing to speculate for his benefit.
Willie muttered a few words meant to be heard only by himself. “No part except as Cartwright’s number one suspect.”
Sam’s head whipped around at the words. Apparently Willie hadn’t spoken softly enough. “What was that you said, Mr. O’Mara?”
Willie looked horrified, then clamped his teeth togeth
er. “I didn’t say anything.”
But Lilliana was sure Sam Horn had heard him the first time. Giving up on Lilliana and Willie as sources of information, Sam dropped back, looking for someone else to talk to him.
Remembering the photographs she’d seen in Ruby’s apartment, she thought it odd that the young man she’d noticed in several of them wasn’t there. “Didn’t Ruby have a son?”
Willie pressed his lips together and shook his head. “She did, but unfortunately Jamal Jr. took after his father. He was killed in a gang fight before he graduated from high school.”
“How sad.” Lilliana knew what it was like to lose a child. You do your best to raise them, take care of them, keep them from harm. But somehow it’s not enough. It wasn’t fair to have a child die before a parent, but life was rarely fair. Anne had only been thirty-two when breast cancer took her. So young, it had never crossed either of their minds for her to have a mammogram, and Anne ignored the lump, didn’t even mention it to her mother, until it had grown so large she couldn’t ignore it any longer. Lilliana couldn’t help but wonder if there were more she could have done. She still missed her daughter. Often.
The social hall was buzzing with conversation. Lilliana took a look at the tables set up along one side, where the vestiges of a bowl of potato salad, a plate of sliced ham, a pot of chili, and the wreckage of an assortment of cakes and cookies remained. The vultures had demolished most of the sweets and stood in clusters at various places around the room. Lilliana helped herself to hot water from an urn and picked up a teabag from those provided. Store brand, of course. She picked up a sugar cookie and nibbled on it while deciding who she should talk to first.
Willie had hobbled his walker over to Coretta and her husband. At least they had Willie to speak to. They didn’t seem to know anyone else. The couple who had sat beside them in the front pew left right after the memorial service.
Nancy Gardner, wearing a sweater in muted pastel colors woven on a primarily black background in deference to the occasion, joined her. “It was a nice service, wasn’t it?” Nancy cut off a bit of cake with her fork and put it in her mouth.
“Yes, it was.” Lilliana peered around the room. Gordon Brown stood awkwardly not too far from the entrance. Lilliana wondered why he’d bothered to come. He wasn’t even eating anything.
Harlan poked his head inside the door and raised a camera to his face. The flash went off as he took several pictures. Coretta and Willie both turned toward him with angry faces. She couldn’t blame them. Taking flash pictures at a memorial service was hardly appropriate. She wondered what he did with all those pictures.
Coretta’s face grew angrier when she spotted the man in the doorway. Willie opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but Harlan quickly withdrew. Gordon followed him out.
“What do you think of the food?” Nancy asked.
“The food?” Nancy should know she was the wrong one to ask about that. “I suppose it’s fine. It’s more of a courtesy than anything else, you know.”
“But I still think they should serve good food at something like this. This cake is too plain for my taste. White cake. Vanilla frosting. They should at least have used raspberry filling between the layers. That’s why I do so much of my own cooking.”
“Like your applesauce.”
Nancy brightened. “Yes, like my applesauce. Everyone likes it.”
Lilliana doubted that was true, being very familiar with Nancy’s cooking and baking. Wait a minute. Nancy had said “everyone.” “Who else besides Ruby have you given it to?”
“Why, Willie, of course. That medicine he’s taking because of his hip replacement—something funny sounding, Zar-something—he hates the way it tastes. So the doctor said he should crush it up and mix it in with applesauce. I made a whole quart just for him because he has to take the pills twice a day.”
Poor Willie. Although if his prescription tasted that bad, maybe Nancy’s applesauce was the perfect thing to disguise the flavor.
Miguel hesitantly entered the social hall and looked around. When he spotted Lilliana, he hurried over to where she and Nancy were standing. “Señora, it is time to head back now. Mr. Ellison, he say make sure to bring everyone back before lunch.”
Probably because he was afraid people would complain if they missed the midday meal, despite the fact that most of them had already eaten plenty from the buffet. “Would you like me to gather up everyone?” she asked.
“Yes, señora. I will wait at the van.” Miguel hurried off.
Lilliana circulated among the groups, informing them it was time to leave, regretting she hadn’t been able to further her investigation. Of course, she’d already spoken to everyone at the funeral except Ruby’s daughter and son-in-law.
She waited until last to approach Coretta and Willie. Perhaps Willie had discovered something new from Ruby’s family. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Miguel says it’s time to go.”
She turned toward Ruby’s daughter. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t have met under better circumstances. I hope God will comfort you in your loss.”
“Thank you,” Coretta said.
Lilliana raised her eyebrows, prompting Willie to indicate he’d be coming with her.
“I’ll be along shortly,” Willie said.
Obviously Willie wanted to say something private to Coretta. But he’d been talking to her for most of thirty minutes already. What could he possibly have left to say?
CHAPTER TWELVE
LILLIANA paced the length of her apartment and back again as she waited for Lenny to arrive. She’d mentioned her problem with the plant shelves at lunch and been relieved when Lenny volunteered to assist. Of all the residents of Rainbow Ranch, Lenny was probably the one most physically up to the task. If he didn’t have a stroke or a heart attack from the “supplements” he was taking. Lilliana had urged him to stop, but Lenny’s vanity was so strong he wouldn’t consider the chance of reverting back to the overweight, flabby body he’d had before finding a doctor who would write him prescriptions. She thought about reporting him to Kirstie, even though the nurse knew about the drugs, because an official report would force the facility to take action. But despite the best of intentions, it really wasn’t her place to force other people to live the way she would like them to.
A series of sharp knocks interrupted her pacing, and she quickly adjusted her course to open the door. Lenny filled most of the doorway with his bodybuilder physique, a toolbox grasped in his left hand.
“Come in.” Lilliana opened the door wider to admit him.
“So where are these shelves?” Lenny asked.
“In the second bedroom,” Lilliana said as she led the way. She opened the bedroom door and stepped through.
“This shouldn’t take too long.” Lenny grabbed the first cardboard box and lay it on the floor. With his strong hands, he pulled up on a flap, popping the staples that held it in place.
Lilliana peered over his shoulder and was glad she hadn’t attempted this task herself. In addition to the shelves and light fixtures and light bulbs, there were several plastic bags filled with screws and bolts and little bits and pieces. There was also an instruction sheet, which consisted mostly of pictures of each part labeled with a letter of the alphabet.
Lenny put the instruction sheet aside and began pulling things out of the box. He laid the shelves side by side on the carpet and spread the other pieces in a semicircle around him. After staring at the pieces for a few minutes, he picked up one of the plastic bags and pulled the top open.
“Aren’t you going to read the instructions?” Lilliana asked.
“What for?” Lenny looked surprised. “It’s obvious how to put this together.”
Not to Lilliana, and she fretted over the potential disaster yet to come. Lenny pushed what looked like the side of the plant stand she’d seen online in front of him and grabbed the first shelf.
“Why don’t you hold the ends of these as I attach them to the sides?” Lenny op
ened his toolbox and pulled out a smallish tool with his free hand. He shook out a few little parts from the plastic bag, threaded something through a pre-drilled hole in the end piece, and while Lilliana held the shelf steady, turned the screw or bolt or whatever it was with the tool until it was tight.
He picked up the second shelf to do the same.
“I noticed you didn’t come to Ruby’s funeral,” Lilliana said by way of making conversation.
Lenny pressed his lips together. “We weren’t that close.”
Lilliana hadn’t known they even knew one another. Lenny certainly hadn’t mentioned knowing Ruby during the interviews in the craft room after the murder. Playing a hunch, she said, “That wasn’t exactly what I’d heard.”
Lenny stopped putting the shelf together and stared up at Lilliana, his brow furrowed and his eyes full of suspicion. “What did you hear? And from whom?”
A wave of panic washed over Lilliana when she realized she didn’t have anything to back up her claim and hadn’t come up with a suitable response before opening up the topic.
Lenny’s face cleared. “Never mind. I bet it was Beverly. I forgot all about the roses.”
Ah ha! She seemed to have discovered Ruby’s secret admirer. Lilliana nodded sagely. “It was a lovely bouquet.”
“I kind of got carried away.” Lenny turned back to putting the plant stand together. “She came out to watch me play tennis one day and told me what a good player I was. I asked her to lunch.”
“In the dining room?”
“No, of course not. I took her to Cathy’s Café. We had a terrific meal. Ruby kept telling me how nice it was to meet a man who was fit. She said most men our age let themselves go. Well, you know that’s not me. I take pride in my appearance.”
Too much pride, in Lilliana’s opinion. Taking testosterone and growth hormone couldn’t be good for him. But that was an old argument, and she knew she wouldn’t get very far bringing it up again.
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