Софи Келли - Hooked On A Feline

Harry let out a slow breath. “When someone dies, we always talk about what a great person they were when a lot of the time they were really a jerk, but Michael Bishop was not one of those people. Everyone loved him and he was a dentist. How many people love their dentist?”

“Endodontist,” Lachlan called out.

Across the aisle from me, I saw Mary wipe away a tear.

Harry smiled and nodded his head. “Right. Endodontist.” He looked skyward. “Sorry, my friend.” His expression grew serious again, and his gaze shifted to the pewter urn to the right of him under the photo of Mike playing his bass at the Last Bash concert. The polished container seemed too small to contain Mike’s big personality. “The world was brighter with Mike Bishop in it and it’s a little darker now that he’s gone.”

Johnny spoke last. “When Mike came to audition to join the Outlaws, he was dressed just like Sonny Crockett—Don Johnson—from the TV show Miami Vice : pleated pastel blue pants and a matching jacket with shoulder pads, a white T-shirt, loafers with no socks, shades and, because it was Mike, a mullet.” He smiled at the memory. “I just knew from looking at him that he was the wrong fit for the band, so I asked him to play with Harry and do the bass line from Heart’s ‘Magic Man.’ I figured there was no way he’d know the song. He was wearing a pastel suit for heaven’s sake!”

There were a few ripples of laughter around the room.

“I was so sure he wouldn’t be able to play it but he did and he played his part perfectly, in his own way, not a copy of anyone else. That was Mike.”

Johnny had to pause for a moment and clear his throat. “People of a certain age will remember when Principal Haney canceled the senior class sleigh ride because he wasn’t happy with the class average after Christmas exams. He got to school the next morning and his office was filled floor to ceiling with bales of hay.” He glanced over at the urn and smiled. “He suspected Mike from the beginning but Mike had an alibi. He had spent the evening before calling bingo at the senior center like he did every Thursday night. Or so they all said.”

There was more laughter.

“That was Mike.”

Beside me Roma was nodding.

Johnny continued, “What most of you don’t know is that when Mike was in college, he used to play stand-up bass for a Baptist church band, which meant he would be out playing at a bar with us until two a.m. and then he’d put on his white shirt, slick back his hair and be at the front of the church at nine thirty. He did that because the group’s regular bass player—who also happened to be Mike’s chemistry professor—was undergoing cancer treatment. That’s also who Mike was.”

He cleared his throat again. “Jonas and Lachlan asked us to sing something for Mike. We talked about it and we just couldn’t sing anything that was sad because it just didn’t feel right.”

Harry and Paul had gotten to their feet. They joined Johnny while Ritchie moved to the piano set off to one side.

“Mike learned this one from those Baptists, and when he wanted to get under my skin, he’d start pushing to make it our encore. Please join us if you know the words.” Johnny looked over at the urn one last time. “Safe travels, my friend.” He clasped his hands in front of him and began to sing the poignant words of the old hymn “I’ll Fly Away.”

Jonas and Lachlan stood up and everyone else rose as well. One by one, throughout the room, I heard voices begin to join in. It was profoundly sad and somehow uplifting at the same time.

Outside, a fine, soft rain was falling. As I stood under the umbrella Marcus held over us and watched Daniel Gunnerson carefully set all that was left of Mike Bishop into the hearse, I thought of something I’d heard my mother say: Blessed are the dead that the rain falls on .

I hoped it was true.

chapter 4

The interment at the Finnamore family crypt was private and would be taking place at a later time. At the beginning of the service, Daniel Gunnerson had made an announcement that there would be a reception immediately after and most people did stay to pay their respects and talk about Mike.

“It seems like half the town is here,” I said to Marcus. I was hoping to tell Harry how sorry I was but hadn’t seen him since the service ended.

Everett Henderson joined us. “Kathleen, may I steal Marcus from you for a moment?” he asked. He was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit with a patterned gray silk tie that I knew Rebecca had bought for him because I’d been with her when she had.

“Of course,” I said.

Marcus caught my hand and gave it a squeeze as he moved past me. “I’ll only be a minute.” He and Everett moved to a spot closer to the windows where there were fewer people.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder and turned around to find Harrison Taylor standing there. His suit was gray, his shirt and tie blue. He’d trimmed his hair and his beard. I hugged him.

“You look nice,” I said. It struck me that Mike would get a kick out of everyone all dressed up. I’d only ever seen him in scrubs or jeans.

“Thank you,” he said. “I wish it was for a better reason.”

I nodded. “How’s Harry?” I asked.

“Pretty much how you’d expect. It’s a damn sad day.” He ran a hand over his beard. “I know it’s late notice, but I was hoping you could come for supper tomorrow night.”

“I could,” I said. Marcus and I didn’t have any plans. A couple of Eddie’s hockey buddies from his NHL days were coming to spend a few days teaching at the hockey school and Eddie had invited Marcus to join them for dinner. “I don’t want to put Harry out, though.” Generally, when I had dinner with Harrison, it was his son who did most of the cooking.

“You won’t be,” the old man said.

I suspected he was going to ask me to see what I could learn about Mike Bishop’s death. I’d gotten involved in that kind of thing before. People were more likely to talk to me than they were to the police. In that way being a librarian was a lot like being a bartender, I’d discovered.

We settled on a time and then Harrison excused himself to go speak to Daniel Gunnerson. I turned around to look for Marcus, and Jonas Quinn caught my eye. He held up one hand, indicating that he wanted to talk to me. He said something to Lachlan, who was standing next to him, and then started across the room.

“Kathleen, thank you for coming,” he said as he joined me.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Mike was a good person. I’m glad I got to know him.”

Jonas nodded. “Yes, he was. Him being dead is just so wrong and it should never have happened.” He looked around. “You know, he would have liked this, all these people here in one place talking about him.”

I smiled. “Mike was a people person. He’d come into the library and it would take him half an hour to get started on his research because he knew everyone and he kept stopping to talk.”

“That research is why I wanted to talk to you,” Jonas said. He adjusted his dark-framed glasses with both hands. “The last time I spoke to him, Mike mentioned that you had unearthed more information about the Finnamore family.”

“Some census information for this area,” I said. “Mike was trying to close a gap in the family tree. I thought it might help.”

“Would it be possible to get a copy of it?” he asked. “I think Mike’s research on the family is something Lachlan—and maybe Eloise for that matter—might want at some point. Not just because it’s their family heritage, but because it was something Mike was working on. I don’t want everything to get lost in the shuffle. There’s a lot to take care of right now.”