Carlene Thompson - Don

"Loretta is never at a loss for words," Natalie said, "but she means well."

"She's a sweetheart. Tactless but a sweetheart. She doesn't approve of the casket blanket I chose, but Tam loved pink and white carnations. Simple and unassuming." She rolled her eyes. "I sound like Warren talking about wine."

"No, Warren would have used words like piquant, impertinent, imposing, provocative." Lily grinned with a trace of her usual mischievous self. "Where is your father?" Natalie asked.

"He fell apart when we first came in. Viveca took him into a back room and I was sent away."

Bitterness edged her voice. Natalie had thought Lily resented Viveca because she was so different from Grace Peyton. Now she wondered if Lily might be jealous because Viveca had become so important to Oliver. Lily liked responsibility. She liked having her father and her sister lean on her. Now Tam was gone and Oliver had turned to Viveca, who would do everything she could to control him. It seemed to be working. He depended on her more and more. Natalie knew this would not have happened to her father. Andrew St. John would never let someone dominate his life.

"Please tell me Alison isn't here," Natalie murmured.

Lily shook her head. "Wish I could oblige. She's swathed in black, and I do mean swathed. She came in wearing a black lace mantilla on her head. She looks like something from the nineteenth century."

"Ariel Saunders?"

"Good call. She's definitely playacting."

Natalie lowered her voice to a whisper. "Are you getting any sense that she might have been responsible for Tam's death?"

Lily's eyes darkened with fury at the thought, but she hesitated. "I honestly can't say. She doesn't look or act guilty, but then she looks and acts so weird all the time, who could tell? I'm keeping an eye on her, though. I hope you will, too, when she finally emerges from seclusion with Viveca and my father. In the meantime, I'd better circulate. Looks like this dreadful little ceremony has been dropped in my lap."

"I see the Keatons coming in. I'll handle them. She'll want to go over every death in her family for the past twenty years."

"As if we haven't heard it all before. And there's Miss Ginsler. Can you believe she's still teaching second grade? I'm sure she was at least eighty when we were in her class."

Natalie grinned. "She's in a time warp. She's always been eighty. And a grouch. She couldn't bear me. She sent a note home to my father saying she thought I'd be in prison before I graduated from high school."

"You almost proved her right when you freed all those lab frogs when we were in high school." Lily smiled. "I'll handle her. Then I'm rousting out Dad, Viveca or no Viveca."

Half an hour later a gray-faced Oliver Peyton nodded solemnly to a few mourners. Loretta had dragged Viveca away from him to admire the flower tributes. Alison sat like a cold, sharp ice sculpture about two feet from the coffin.-She watched it narrowly as if any moment she expected the lid to snap open and Tamara to pop up bursting with life. Was it fantasies or guilt that made her so vigilant? Natalie wondered.

Sheriff Meredith walked in. He still wore his uniform and he was the tallest man in the room. Voices quieted. People stared. Alison went rigid. Viveca's lips parted in either distress or surprise. Natalie strolled toward him. "You've dazzled your audience."

"So I see." He looked around self-consciously. "What's wrong? Have I sprouted horns? Grown fangs?"

"A lot of people immediately act guilty around the police even when they've never broken the law in their lives. I'm not so sure that can be said of this crowd. See anyone who looks suspicious?"

He smothered a smile and played along. "So far everyone looks like they have something to hide. Have you picked up on anything?"

"I'm afraid not. Except for Alison. She's the one in the front row with long blond hair and yards of black cloth. She's acting very strange, but as Lily pointed out, Alison always acts strange. I thought Oliver was going to lurk in the back room throughout the festivities, but Lily dragged him out."

"Is Warren 's family here?"

"I caught a glimpse of his stepmother, I haven't seen his father. Apparently he only came to Port Ariel to see what he could find out about Warren 's death. I think he's showing terrible manners by not putting in an appearance tonight, but I don't think Richard Hunt gives a damn about manners. He certainly doesn't fit the stereotype of the mousy accountant."

"Who's that beautiful blond woman who keeps looking at Alison?"

"Her mother Viveca. I'm sure she's glad Alison isn't throwing one of her tantrums, but the statue act is almost as unnerving."

A look of reluctance passed over Nick's strong features. "I should offer my condolences to the Peytons."

"Yes. They're both staring at you."

"Be right back."

Neither Lily nor her father smiled at the sheriff. Natalie knew Lily didn't care for him-she liked Sheriff Purdue's down-home demeanor. Oliver Peyton liked Purdue because he was a puppet. Nick Meredith was no one's puppet.

Loretta was bearing down on Nick as he walked back to Natalie "Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked suddenly. "Somewhere private?"

Loretta struck. "Sheriff Meredith!" She beamed, showing her perfect teeth. "I've been wanting to meet you. Loretta Leery. I voted for you!"

"Thank you," Nick said awkwardly.

"Loretta, is the back room empty?" Natalie asked.

"Need a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke," Natalie said, then could have bitten her tongue for fumbling the perfect excuse. "I need to sit down. My shoes are too tight; my feet hurt."

"Right this way," Loretta answered, then glanced back in surprise as Nick followed them. "Do your feet hurt, too?"

"Uh, I thought you might have some coffee back there. I've been going since five this morning."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Loretta exclaimed loudly. People looked again. "Why, of course we have coffee. And some doughnuts and Danish. The pastries were my idea. Leonard didn't approve, but I said, 'Leonard, people need a little boost to get them through ordeals like this.' And do you know that we received nothing but compliments on the addition of food? Sometimes I do have a good idea. I just have trouble making Leonard come around to my way of thinking. Well, here we are. Coffee, food, and the freedom to smoke."

"Thank you, Loretta," Natalie said as the woman hovered at the door. "We'll just be a few minutes."

"Take as long as you like." Loretta gave her an exaggerated wink of conspiracy indicating she knew Natalie's real intention was to get the handsome young widower alone. Natalie felt color tingeing her cheeks. Loretta the perpetual matchmaker. Naturally she would interpret the situation romantically. "Just relax, you two. Everything is in control out front, and it's very private in here."

She fluttered her fingers in farewell and rushed down the hall, no doubt to tell Leonard that something was going on with Natalie and Sheriff Meredith. It couldn't be helped and really didn't matter, Natalie told herself, although she hoped Nick hadn't been as aware of Loretta's sly looks and innuendoes as she had been.

Nick was already drawing coffee from the big urn. Natalie felt if she had any caffeine, she might shoot right through the roof. Her nerves tingled.

"Okay, what is it?" she demanded. "Don't tell me someone else has been murdered."

He looked at her in surprise. "No. Sorry I scared you. I just wanted to talk to you. Hysell has an interesting theory about the connection among the murders."

"Hysell? Ted Hysell?"

"Yes. Don't look so shocked. He has more on the ball than I thought."

Natalie shrugged. "Will wonders never cease? What's his theory?"

"Do you remember Eugene Farley?"

Natalie took a deep breath. "He used to date Viveca Cosgrove. She was dating my father until she met him."