“This group has bad luck,” Vinnie whispered to her.
Missy leaned closer to him. He smelled nice and he was freshly shaven. “What do you mean?”
“Two of them dead before thirty.”
Missy nodded. “You’re referring to Ren.”
Vinnie looked at her. “What do you know about it?”
“That had to be twelve or thirteen years ago at this point and that was back before my amateur sleuthing days.” Missy didn’t know if she could talk about Ren. There was already enough to be sad about. “Why? Do you think it’s somehow connected to Olivia’s murder?”
“Probably not.” Vinnie shrugged. “I mean, how cliché would that be? There’s a mysterious death and years later one of the people present at the time is murdered…”
Missy was pretty sure he was being ironic. He thought there was a link, but he didn’t want to say what it was. Maybe it was more just a feeling with him and he couldn’t literally pin the two things together.
“It would make a lot of sense, actually,” Missy said.
Vinnie didn’t say one way or the other. “I went through the police file today. Open and shut case. They were out drinking at Covey Lake?”
“Corey,” Missy said.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s right, Corey Lake. Drinking, smoking weed, one thing leads to another, Ren has an accident and dies.”
Missy watched Sharon, Kevin, and Meghan move forward in line. They were now only fifteen feet from her. Kevin was actually the first to acknowledge her presence. He bowed his head and flourished an exaggerated wave. She knew he was mocking her, but to be polite she waved back. Sharon put on a forced smile and it broke Missy’s heart. Behind them, Meghan openly stared at her. They had never met before, so Meghan was probably wondering who she was.
“Are you going to talk to her?” Vinnie asked.
“Who?”
Vinnie rolled his eyes. “Don’t be coy. Meghan. I’m sure you’ve talked to Sharon, and I’m sure she’s already told you she thinks it’s Meghan.”
“Alright, fine. I’m going to talk to her.” She looked over at him. “Do you think she did it?”
He didn’t answer for a second, then he smiled. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a business card and a pen.
“Tell you what, I don’t want to tell you what I think because it’ll influence your perception. So I’ll write it down and after we can compare notes.”
He was really smiling.
Missy said, “I think you enjoy your job a little too much.”
“Not just my job, but life.” Vinnie wrote on the back of the card and handed it face-up to her. Missy put it in her purse. “Got any other leads?”
“Not yet,” she said. “You?”
“Maybe.”
She threw his words back at him. “Don’t be coy.”
“Sorry, Missy DeMeanor, but we’ve reached the point where the job prevents me from sharing anything more with you.”
“I don’t think you’ve actually shared anything with me,” Missy said, giving him the eye. “I think everything you’ve told me has been part of some larger strategy.”
He pointed at her like she’d caught him. “Impressive. But I can neither confirm nor deny, because then we wouldn’t get to have any more fun.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. It felt good to laugh.
Vinnie smiled. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to take a call. Keep an eye on these people for me, okay?”
“I will.”
He stepped away but stopped to look back over his shoulder. “Nice dress by the way. It’s very flattering.”
She felt herself blush. It was hard not to while his eyes roved.
“Thank you.”
Vinnie worked his way through the parlor, stopping to chitchat with a few people on his way outside. Missy caught herself staring at him the whole way. What was she so afraid of? She should just go out on a date with him. The worst thing that could happen was they’d have a bad time and she’d lose a couple hours. No big deal, right?
Logically that train of thought made all the sense in the world. So why then couldn’t she bring herself to just ask him out? Mom was right. Life was short, it was up to you to make your own happiness, you couldn’t wait around for it.
Still, she was reluctant.
Missy came back to the present moment. What Vinnie had said earlier was right: the murderer in all likelihood was in this room. She had read the statistics herself during one of her previous investigations. More often than not the killer knew the victim.
Sharon and Kevin were talking to Olivia’s parents while Meghan kneeled in front of the body. Missy watched the dark-haired woman bow her head and move her lips, but she couldn’t tell if Meghan was praying or just talking to Olivia.
As Meghan got up, Missy watched her closely out of the corner of her eye. The woman exchanged polite words with Olivia’s parents and then came face-to-face with Roger, the man she’d dated in high school and lost, who had eventually wound up with Olivia. According to Sharon, this gave Meghan plenty of cause to be angry especially if she suspected Olivia had precipitated the break-up.
Meghan and Roger stood stiffly in front of each other. A few words were exchanged. Roger then extended his hand, but Meghan leaned in for the hug at the same time. That awkward crossed goodbye had them shifting nervously, till Roger stepped in and gave her a hug.
Meghan’s whole body seemed to untense as she wrapped her arms around the much taller man. They clung together for a moment, then another, and then Meghan’s body started shaking. Missy realized she was sobbing. Roger pulled his head back to initiate the end of the hug, but Meghan just held on tighter. She pressed her body against his and sobbed so long, the line got held up.
Roger patted her back and said something. Meghan stopped sobbing and looked up. The expression on her face was unmistakable. She had turned from despairing to angry.
Missy nodded. Maybe Sharon was right.
Chapter Eleven
M eghan was smoking a cigarette outside. She’d removed the shawl and must have stuffed it into her clutch. Missy walked quietly across the porch, smiling and nodding at the people she passed, till she occupied a space along the railing a few feet from Meghan. Close enough to start a conversation, but not too close like she was forcing one.
Missy stared out into the night for a moment, pretending to be lost in her thoughts when really she was just waiting to make her move and start a conversation. Using her peripheral vision, she judged Meghan was about halfway through the cigarette. It was now or never.
Casually, she glanced over and let her eyes linger till Meghan felt her staring. The other woman took a quick drag and turned her head.
Meghan frowned. “Do I know you?”
Missy smiled. “Maybe. I’m Missy DeMeanor.”
Meghan’s eyes widened in recognition. “The Missy DeMeanor, huh? Wow, it’s nice to put a face to a name. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Missy kept smiling. “I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
Meghan’s eyes then did that thing that annoyed Missy the most: they sized her up. Literally. The other woman looked her up and down. It was only a quick glance, but Missy had caught the judgment in her expression and knew exactly what Meghan thought: Missy was noticeably overweight.
“All good,” Meghan said a moment later. “All from Olivia.”
Missy pursed her lips. “It’s just terrible.”
“Yes.” Meghan took another drag. “I’m Meghan Conley.”
Missy didn’t know whether to offer her hand. It reminded her of the scene from a few minutes ago, where Roger had tried to shake but Meghan had gone in for the hug.
Meghan switched hands with her cigarette to offer Missy a shake. “I was good friends with Olivia, ever since school.”
Meghan’s comment reminded her of Noreen and just like that Missy was ticked off that her friend hadn’t attended the viewing and might
even skip the funeral tomorrow morning.
“I’m very sorry,” Missy said. “I knew Olivia for a long time also.”
“Right.” Meghan finished her cigarette and found the receptacle for it. “You were her babysitter. She talked about you a lot.”
Missy felt herself blushing. “She was a very special girl.”
“Aren’t we all?” Meghan said, a bitter note creeping into her voice.
Missy wasn’t about to let that comment go. “Some more than others.”
Meghan smirked. “I guess I deserved that.”
“You did,” Missy said, not able to help herself.
Meghan took out another cigarette. Even if Missy had been blind, it would have been impossible for her to miss Meghan’s hands shaking as she tried to light the next one. It was a small miracle when the cigarette took the flame.
“Sorry.” Meghan smiled after taking a drag. “I’m really not myself, as you probably noticed.” She held out her hands to show how badly they were shaking, in case Missy had missed it a moment ago.
“It’s hard,” Missy said. “When somebody you know dies this young.” It had happened to her twice recently.
“Were you there?” Meghan asked. “At the crop, or whatever you call it?”
“At the crop, yes.” Missy stepped a little closer. “How about you?”
“Huh?” Meghan frowned and she was instantly on guard. “Why are you asking where I was?”
Missy held out a palm. “I didn’t mean anything. It’s just one of those questions, you know? Like, I remember where I was and what I was doing when my dad died and when 9/11…you know.”
Meghan stopped frowning but her eyes were still skeptical. “I wasn’t doing anything. I was sitting at home all by myself.”
Missy made a mental note of that. The woman didn’t have an alibi.
“Why did you say that, about not just Olivia being special?” Missy asked.
Meghan took another drag. “Look, I said I was sorry. No reason to stick my nose in it. I told you, I’m not myself!”
The words came out a little louder than Meghan had intended. The other conversations on the porch paused for a moment while everybody turned to look at the two women. After the quiet stretch, conversation resume.
Missy turned back to Meghan. “I’m sorry, but I was her babysitter so I’m a little sensitive I guess and curious. Olivia was special. I’m not just saying that—”
“Yes, we all know she was,” Meghan said, this time keeping her voice somewhat controlled and lowered. “Believe me, we all know.”
Meghan started to push past her, but Missy blocked her path.
“What do you mean by that?”
Meghan held up her hands and bobbed her head. “Can you get out of my way?”
Missy didn’t move. “I want to know what you meant by that.”
Meghan carelessly tossed her cigarette aside. “The guys were all in love with her, okay? They all thought she was special. And yeah, she was. She really was. But it got old sometimes, having to compete against that. Everybody thought she was perfect, but she wasn’t.”
Missy sensed this was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to Meghan’s anger toward her dead friend. Now she just had to expose the rest of it.
“Nobody’s perfect,” Missy said.
“Okay, fine, she was as close to it as you can get.”
“Tell me how she wasn’t perfect, then.”
Meghan folded her arms. Her voice had gotten loud again. “Really? Right here and now?”
This time Missy didn’t back down. “Yes. Right now.”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “How about those pictures she posted? I mean, really?”
Missy frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The ones on Facebook.” Meghan reached into her clutch and extracted her phone. After thumbing through to the internet, she held it up for Missy. “These pictures.”
Missy leaned forward to look at the tiny screen. Meghan was referring to the pictures that Olivia had posted the night before she died, of Corey Lake, the same pictures she’d brought to the crop that had been spilled all over the floor.
“What’s wrong with these pictures?”
“Just read the comments,” Meghan said. “If you really want to know.”
Missy had only read the topmost ones, which were all positive. She would definitely read the rest, but while she had Meghan standing right in front of her, she wanted to hear it straight from her.
“What’s so bad about these pictures?” Missy asked.
Before Meghan could answer, a long, big arm wrapped around Missy’s shoulders. She’d always been big on personal space and didn’t invite random physical contact. Out of habit, she cringed and shrunk away. As she turned to look at the man who’d put his arms around her, she expected to see Vinnie or maybe Aaron.
But it wasn’t Vinnie or Aaron.
“You’re some detective if you haven’t figured that out.”
It was Kevin.
His eyes looked glassy and he was kind of leaning disturbingly to one side. Kevin himself noticed this and too quickly tried to stand up taller nearly falling over in the other direction.
He was wasted.
As if he wasn’t far gone enough, Kevin took out a flask and sipped. He didn’t bother to screw the cap back on.
Meghan shook her head. “So you’ve met Kevin.”
“Oh yeah, we’ve met.” His hand actually grazed her boob when he offered her the flask! “Care for a drink?”
Missy pushed his arm away. “No.”
“Now don’t get all catty,” Kevin said. “Just because you didn’t know about the pictures.”
Missy wanted to pretend like she knew. She didn’t want to give Kevin the satisfaction of knowing something she didn’t. But that was pride talking. After a deep breath, reason won out and Missy realized she could turn this to her advantage. Maybe Kevin knew something that could help her. It would also be interesting to observe the dynamic between him and Meghan.
“What’s so wrong about the pictures?” Missy asked.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them. And damn, everybody looked so good.” He patted his head. “I’m not in those pics, but I had all my hair back then. Even Gabe, who’s fuck-ugly now, huh?”
Meghan rolled her eyes.
Kevin went on. “Everybody’s so damned sensitive anymore. I swear, it’s like everything is offensive. You can’t say something even if it’s true.”
“Oh God, just get to the point, Kevin,” Meghan said. Missy could tell she had no patience left for this man.
Kevin sipped from the flask and found it empty. Dejected, he tipped his head all the way back and held the flask a foot above it. Missy counted three drips before the liquor ran out.
“Excuse Meghan.” Kevin put his hand over one side of his mouth, like he was pretending to tell her a secret about Meghan. But when he spoke, his voice was loud enough for everybody on the porch to hear. “She’s on a lot of medication and it doesn’t really work. She’s always been second place to Olivia and it’s burned her up all these years.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Meghan said.
“See?” He pointed at her. “Everybody’s sensitive even though I’m only speaking the truth.”
“Drop dead,” Meghan said.
“Uh-oh.” He smirked. “Are you going to kill me too?”
In the blink of an eye, this tiny woman turned into a ball of fire. Her arms swung wildly, her legs kicked, her knees jabbed, and she screamed like a banshee. She was able to get two good shots in on Kevin, using surprise to her advantage, but he quickly recovered and managed to block or avoid all her other strikes.
Missy froze. She hated violence and fighting made her so scared. In high school, another girl had picked on her till Missy had finally worked up the courage to slug her one day in the locker room. But it had taken a long time to build up to that moment, and after Missy had been sick to her stomach.
With Missy�
�s delayed reaction, it fell upon other people in the vicinity to break up the fight. Meghan was pulled roughly away. Kevin was still smiling, though one side of his jaw was flaming red. In her fury, Meghan’s dress had been pulled out of place. The skirt was hiked up practically to her hips, exposing her black, lace underwear and it was pretty obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. For a moment, Missy felt bad for her. It was one of Missy’s recurring nightmares: to be caught naked in public.
But then Missy didn’t feel so bad. Meghan was unbalanced and if what Kevin said was true was on medication for some mental issues. And when he’d accused her of murdering Olivia, she’d literally flipped her lid and assaulted him.
Did that mean she’d killed Olivia? No.
But Missy thought it added to what she already knew.
Chapter Twelve
O n her way back to Mom’s car, Missy literally bumped into Sharon. The dark-haired woman was leaned against a tree and drinking a beer, flaunting the laws prohibiting an open container. Missy thought it was pretty bold of her to drink in the funeral home’s parking lot especially when there were a few cops around. But apparently they were looking the other way, giving Sharon a pass because her best friend had just died.
“Kevin’s such an asshole,” Sharon said.
Missy couldn’t disagree there. Even if Meghan was the killer, Missy wouldn’t have minded if the woman had gotten more shots in. The guy deserved it.
“He said something about the pictures.”
Sharon didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took a long pull from her bottle and when it was empty she tossed it onto the grass strip separating two rows in the parking lot so it didn’t break on the concrete.
“The pictures?” she asked, though Missy thought Sharon already knew what she was talking about.
“The ones Olivia put on Facebook, Sharon.” Missy couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. She really wanted to get out of here. Kevin had gotten her riled up and watching Meghan self-destruct like that hadn’t been pleasant, and most of all, she had no friends here to talk to. She’d lived here all her life and knew everybody here by sight if not by name, and she couldn’t count any of them as close friends. She realized Noreen was her only good friend.
Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries Boxset Page 48
