Funerals Can Be Murder (A Baby Boomer Mystery Book 5)

by Susan Santangelo

  “Will and I became involved several years ago,” Deanna said. “I fell hard for him. I thought he was the man I’d been waiting for all my life. And he said I was his soul mate. That fate had brought us together, and we were destined to be together forever. And I believed him. Every word. For ten years.”

  “But Will was married,” I interjected. “Did you know that?

  “I delivered a tray of sandwiches to the family,” I explained to the group. “And I met his widow.”

  “Will told me he was still married right at the beginning of our relationship, Carol,” Deanna said. “He said his wife didn’t believe in divorce, so he would never be free to marry me. But that we were married in spirit, and that was all that counted.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “That’s not what his widow told me. She said that Will was the one who didn’t believe in divorce.”

  “Carol, for crying out loud. Just this once, don’t interrupt,” Claire said. “Let Deanna talk.”

  “As it turned out, Carol’s right,” Deanna said. “But I didn’t know that until the night Will died.” Her eyes clouded over. “That was the worst night of my entire life.”

  It wasn’t such a great one for Will, either.

  I didn’t really say that, of course.

  “I got a call from Will about nine o’clock on Tuesday night. He sounded awful. He said he had terrible pains in his chest and begged me to come to his condo right away. I told him to call nine-one-one and I’d be right over.”

  Deanna pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling.

  “I got to Will’s just in time to see him being loaded into an ambulance. The paramedics wouldn’t let me ride to the hospital with him. One of them handed me Will’s iPhone and told me Will wanted me to call someone named Louisa and tell her what happened. I had no idea she was his wife. I made the call, and she said she’d meet me at the hospital. Even when she came into the emergency room, I had no idea who she was.”

  Deanna took a deep breath.

  “She identified herself as Will’s wife to the doctor. I was so shocked. Can you imagine the scene? Me on one side of the bed, and her on the other. And Will in between us, all hooked up to tubes and monitors, breathing so shallowly. It was horrible.”

  Nancy reached over and patted Deanna’s hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this. You don’t have to tell us any more if it’s too hard for you.”

  I shot Nancy a look. Don’t tell her to stop now. Are you nuts?

  “Thanks, but I have to finish telling you what happened,” Deanna said. “Maybe by talking about it, the whole thing will finally make some sense to me.

  “So, there we all were, the wife, the girlfriend, and the husband/boyfriend, in one of those small curtained cubicles in the emergency room. I finally had the chance to confront the woman who’d prevented me from marrying Will and wrecked my chance at happiness. And when I called her on it, you know what she said?”

  “She told you what she told me!” I said. “That it was Will who didn’t want the divorce, not her.”

  “Bingo,” said Deanna. “That’s exactly what she told me. And you know what else? She also told me she hadn’t seen the louse in years. And that he’d never even made an attempt to see his kids.”

  “What a creep!” Nancy said.

  “At first, I didn’t believe her. You have to remember, she was talking about the man I loved. I called her a liar. I said that Will had made it a practice to see his kids every Sunday night. And he always spent holidays with them, too. And she had the nerve to laugh at me. Can you imagine? She said I must be the biggest sucker on the face of the earth.

  “By this time, we were both yelling. I’m sure other people in the emergency room heard us. And I stormed out. But not before I said that if the creep wasn’t already dying, I’d kill him myself.”

  “Everybody says things they regret when they’re angry,” I said. “I certainly do.”

  “Nobody’s going to think you really meant it,” Nancy said.

  “Why in the world do you think the police are going to arrest you for what you said?” asked Claire. “That’s just plain crazy.”

  “Because there’s more,” Deanna said in a small voice.

  Somehow, I was afraid there would be.

  “After I left the hospital,” Deanna continued, “I drove around for a while. I was a mess, crying and cursing and screaming. But then, I calmed down. I realized that Will’s wife could be lying. No matter what, I had to give Will a chance to explain. That was the only fair thing to do.

  “So I went back to the hospital one more time. Will was in the same cubicle, but this time, he was alone. He looked so peaceful lying there. And then I realized that he wasn’t breathing. He was dead.”

  “Didn’t anyone from the hospital realize Will had died?” Claire asked. “That makes no sense.”

  “It may not make sense, but that’s the way it happened, Claire,” Deanna snapped. “You weren’t there. I was. I figured that everyone in the emergency room had heard me threaten Will earlier. I panicked. I’m not proud of myself, but I knew I had to get out of there as fast as I could. Before someone at the hospital blamed me for his death.

  “So I ran away.”

  Chapter 26

  Money isn’t everything, but it sure keeps the kids in touch.

  “I must be missing something,” Nancy said. “People die in hospitals every day.

  “Well, they do!” she insisted, reiterating her point. “You know I’m right. I don’t see how in the world Deanna could possibly think she’d be blamed for Will’s death.”

  It was almost 6:00 on the day of The Longest Hair Appointment Ever, and the Nancy, Claire, and I were huddled together in the parking lot of Crimpers, trying to make some sense of what we’d just been told.

  “Keep your voice down, Nancy,” I said. “Deanna might hear you. And I, for one, have no desire to continue a conversation with her right now. I just want to go home.”

  “At least your hair looks nice,” Nancy offered.

  We could see from our vantage point that Fairport Turnpike was clogged with commuters and traffic was at a standstill.

  “It’s going to take us a long time to get home,” Claire said. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I could use a nice glass of white wine.”

  “Why don’t we go to Maria’s Trattoria?” Nancy suggested. “We could have dinner there, too. And maybe Mary Alice could catch up to us. She can fill us in on her hot date. It’ll make a nice change of conversation. What do you say?”

  “It’s tempting,” I agreed. “But Jim’s expecting me home. And I’m sure Larry’s waiting for Claire, too. Neither of us has the flexibility that you do, Nancy. We’re married to our husbands twenty-four/seven, not dating them, the way you are yours.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Carol,” Claire said. “This is the twenty-first century. Let’s just call Jim and Larry and say we’ll be late.” She pulled out her phone and punched in numbers.

  Nancy and I walked away to give Claire some privacy. It could be a long phone call.

  But it wasn’t.

  “Well, that was easy,” Claire said, clicking her phone off and heading in our direction. “Larry was relieved that he didn’t have to suffer through the third night of the same tired leftovers. He’s going to call Jim and suggest they get together tonight. So we can have a girls’ night out.”

  “Perfect,” Nancy said. “I’ll text Mary Alice and tell her what we’re up to.”

  “Text? Why not just call her?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to take a chance on interrupting anything important,” Nancy said with a wink. “I’ll see you two at Maria’s.”

  Honestly, that Nancy!

  “I can’t remember the last time we went out to dinner together,” I said, sliding into a booth at Maria’s Trattoria.
<
br />   “Try, never,” Claire retorted. “We always meet for lunch. So we can hustle right back into the kitchen and get dinner started. Lord forbid that it’s late for the guys.”

  “I keep telling you two that dating your husband instead of living with him is the way to go,” Nancy said. “Bob’s always on his best behavior these days. And I don’t have to pick up his dirty socks off the bedroom floor, either. I call it ‘married but dating.’ You should try it yourselves.”

  “Ha!” said Claire. “I don’t think so, not for us. Larry and I are too used to each other’s foibles by now. We cohabitate just fine, thank you very much.”

  “It was nice of Maria to put us in this quiet corner,” I said, deciding a change of subject was definitely in order. “Although I did feel guilty about her waving us in ahead of everyone else waiting in line for a table.”

  “Honestly, Carol. Will you ever get over your Catholic guilt?” Claire asked. “For all those other people knew, we had reservations. And Maria always treats us well. Of course, when she was teaching our kids way back when, I never thought we’d become such good friends.”

  “New career, new life,” Nancy said. “I give Maria a lot of credit for what she’s accomplished since she retired from teaching.”

  “So, did Mary Alice text back?” I asked. “Is she going to meet us?”

  “I think I see her now,” Nancy said, craning her neck in the direction of the front door of the restaurant. “Yep, that’s her. And from the big smile on her face, I’d bet that she had a great first date.”

  Mary Alice was positively glowing. I was glad somebody had a good day today. It certainly wasn’t me.

  “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” Mary Alice said, sliding into the booth so she faced me. “I came as soon as I could. This is such fun, going out to dinner together. Are we celebrating something special?”

  Turning to Nancy, she said, “I bet I know. You sold an expensive property today. That’s what we’re celebrating, right?”

  Nancy shook her head. “From your mouth to God’s ears,” she said. “Not in today’s real estate market. Those expensive houses just sit on the market forever.”

  “Well, then why are we here at dinnertime?” Mary Alice asked. “Something is definitely up. I can see it on your faces. What have you been up to today? Have I missed anything important?”

  We three burst into a chorus of nervous laughter.

  “Thanks, I needed that,” I said when the laughs trailed off. “Even more than the glass of chardonnay I ordered.”

  “What in the world are you all laughing about?” Mary Alice asked. Then, looking at me, she said, “Carol, your hair is fabulous. Did you just have it done?”

  That provoked another chorus of nervous tittering.

  “What did I say that’s so funny?” Mary Alice asked. “How long have you been sitting in this booth, and how much wine have you had?”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking, Mary Alice,” I said. “No, we haven’t been here drinking all afternoon. And, yes, I did have my hair done at Crimpers today.”

  “And Carol got a lot more than she expected,” Nancy chimed in. “Claire and I ended up there, too. And Deanna had more to share with us than what shampoo was best for our hair. A lot more.”

  “I’ll say she did,” I said. “Poor Deanna.”

  “You got that right,” Claire said, shaking her head. “What a mess.”

  Mary Alice looked at all three of us in turn, then burst out laughing. “I know you all so well. You know how gullible I can be. I bet you’re all just trying to make me extra curious because I wasn’t there, too. Don’t think you can fool me. Deanna has never shared anything about her personal life with any of us. Even though we’ve been going to the salon for years.”

  “We’re not trying to fool you, honestly,” I said. “It’s just that….”

  “It’s just that you were all dying of curiosity about my date today, and you decided we should meet for dinner so you could ask me all the details, right?” Mary Alice asked. “Am I right?”

  Without waiting for any of us to answer, our shy friend continued, “Well for your information, I had a great time this afternoon. And yes, Isaac and I have made another date for later this week. So there.”

  “Isaac?”

  “That’s his name. Isaac Weichert. He’s a very nice man.”

  I have to confess that my insatiable curiosity is on automatic response, no matter what. And Nancy and Claire, although not in my league, are pretty close. So, of course, we spent the next few minutes grilling Mary Alice for more information.

  Claire: “Did you meet this guy online?

  Mary Alice: “No. I met him at the hospital.”

  Nancy, sounding hopeful: “Is he a doctor? Oh, that’s wonderful!”

  Mary Alice: “He’s not a doctor.”

  Me: “Is he a nurse? Physical therapist? Technician?”

  Mary Alice, shaking her head and laughing: “This is like ‘Twenty Questions.’ No, no, and no. Who’s up next?”

  Claire: “How old is he?”

  Mary Alice: “I don’t know. I didn’t ask him that! But he’s…mature.”

  Me: “Has he ever been married? Is he divorced? Widowed? Come to think of it, can a man be widowed? Maybe he’s widowered? Is that a real word?”

  Mary Alice, impatiently: “He was divorced. Years ago. And then his ex-wife died. So figure out a word to describe that, Carol. If you can.”

  Claire: “Does he have any children? Grandchildren?”

  Mary Alice: “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that.”

  Nancy: “Does he have his own hair?”

  Claire: “Does he have his own teeth?”

  Me: “Does he still drive at night?”

  That did it.

  “Enough, you guys!” Mary Alice said, laughing. “You’re all terrible. But I know you won’t stop until I give you all the details, so here goes. His name is Isaac Weichert, and he’s originally from upstate New York. He moved here ten years ago when he was recruited by a medical research company in New York City. Fairport was an easy commute to his job, and he liked the combination of small town charm and big city access. He took early retirement—he referred to it as a golden parachute—and then decided to try something he’s wanted to do all his life. He took courses and now he’s a paramedic. So, even though he’s not a doctor, Nancy, he is helping people in medical crisis. He works for Fairport Ambulance.”

  She took a deep breath. “And I really like him. So, please, back off and let me enjoy myself a little. It’s been a long time. And being a lonely widow is not the way I want to spend the rest of my life. I want to have some fun.”

  I couldn’t speak for Claire and Nancy. But the reference to Fairport Ambulance immediately conjured up visions of the hospital emergency room. And patients being wheeled in on stretchers, frequently battling life and death issues.

  Just like poor Will Finnegan.

  Chapter 27

  At my age, getting lucky is finding my car in the supermarket parking lot.

  One quick look at Claire and Nancy and I could tell they were both picturing the same scene I was.

  We three fell silent.

  A rare occurrence for us.

  Mary Alice, immediately misinterpreting the reason, jumped into and tried to apologize. “What did I say? Oh, gosh. If I hurt your feelings by what I just said, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have insisted you back off. That was unforgivably rude of me. I know you all love me and only want the best for me. You’re trying to protect me from being hurt. And you’re right. I haven’t had much experience in the dating game lately.

  “I didn’t mean to come on so strong. It’s completely unlike me. I don’t know what came over me.” Mary Alice’s voice trailed off.

  I looked at Claire. And nodded my head. You take it fro
m here. I just can’t.

  Bless her heart, she did. And she proved that she hadn’t been married to an attorney for all those years for nothing.

  Claire laid out what had transpired at the hair salon in an orderly way. Just the facts, ma’am. Very little emotion to color the story.

  She was brief, and to the point. Clear about what Deanna had told us about her relationship with Will Finnegan. And how the relationship had ended.

  “Wow, Claire,” I said, “that was amazing. You should have been a lawyer, yourself. If I’d been the one doing the talking, I would have taken twice as long.”

  Claire said, “Correction, Carol. If you had been the one doing the talking, it would have taken at least four times as long, and you would have interrupted yourself several times to go off on a tangent or two, and probably cried as well.”

  Well, really! I was insulted, and my face showed it.

  “Of course, I say that with love, Carol,” Claire said. “But that’s just the way you are.”

  I was mollified. Slightly. Especially since I knew in my heart that what Claire said about me was true. Exaggerated, but true.

  “So, Mary Alice,” Nancy asked, “what do you think? You work in the hospital. Is there any way that Deanna could be blamed for Will Finnegan’s death?”

  Mary Alice seemed lost in thought. Then, she said, “There’s no way I can answer that question, Nancy. I wasn’t there. And it seems pretty farfetched to me. Assuming Deanna told you the whole story, of course. I’d say that she’s letting her emotions rule her head. She’s grieving, even though she doesn’t want to. She feels guilty for what she said, even though she was justified, from what you’ve told me. And she never had the opportunity to talk to Will, to hear his side of the story.”

  We were all quiet for a minute, mulling over what Mary Alice had said. Then, she spoke again. “I bet Deanna is suffering from survivor’s guilt. I know all about that, believe me. Remember, the morning that Brian died in that car accident years ago, we’d had a terrible argument and he stormed out of the house. Within an hour, I got a call from the police that he was dead. I never got the chance to tell him I was sorry.”