After another forty-five minutes of squirming around in the chair, I’d had enough. If I didn’t get out of there soon, I knew I’d never make it home in time to go to Walter’s wake. I decided to approach the lady who had checked me in. “How much longer do you think I’ll have to wait to be seen by a doctor?”
“Can’t tell you,” she replied, blowing a large pink bubble with her gum. “It’s first come, first serve, ma’am, unless it’s a life-threatening injury. I don’t think your swollen wrist is going to kill you anytime soon, so go back to the waiting room and we’ll call you when it’s your turn.”
“Actually, I just wanted to tell you I’m going to go home. My wrist barely hurts now, and I’m sure it’s fine. I’m certain it’s not broken, just sprained, if anything. I have important things to do at home. I have to attend the wake of a very close friend this evening, and if I don’t leave right now I won’t make it there on time. Besides, I don’t want to waste the doctors’ valuable time when they have so many more critically injured patients to attend to.”
I didn’t like the woman’s attitude, and it was hard to remain civil and polite. I wanted to tell her so too, but I restrained myself. I also wanted to slap the gum right out of her mouth as she blew a bubble so large it nearly obscured her face. The hospital needed someone with a little more compassion and professionalism in her patient-admitting position. I hoped they’d send me a survey to fill out so I could voice my opinion.
“I’m pretty sure that’s against hospital policy,” the woman said.
“And I’m pretty sure I don’t care.”
* * *
On the way home I stopped at a pharmacy and purchased a wrist brace, some peroxide and Neosporin for the scrapes on my arm, and a dark chocolate Milky Way bar, just because I felt I deserved one. The wrist brace would make it look like I’d actually been treated in the emergency room, because I felt sure Stone wouldn’t take my word for it that my wrist was only sprained. The peroxide and Neosporin would keep my scrapes from getting infected. And the candy bar would help calm my rattled nerves. After all, it wasn’t every day someone in an SUV tried to run me over and possibly kill me. An added bonus was that the Milky Way took my mind off my throbbing leg and wrist for at least as long as it took to devour it.
“Are you okay, my love? I’ve been so worried,” Stone said, as he met me at the front door of the Alexandria Inn. “Get in here and let me have a look at you. What did they say about your wrist? I see they put a brace on it. You look terrible, honey.”
“I’m fine, Stone,” I assured him. “My wrist is just sprained. And there are no broken bones or internal injuries, just some scrapes and bruising. I’ll be back to normal in a few days.”
“Well, that’s a big relief,” Stone said. “I’ll talk to Wyatt at the wake. I have to leave in a couple of minutes because I’m already late.”
“You mean ‘we’re’ already late,” I corrected him. “I wouldn’t miss this wake for anything.”
“You can’t go in your condition, Lexie.”
“Why not? I told you I’m fine.”
“You’re limping, for one thing. Your arm is still oozing, and I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain. You look really banged up, and more than a bit rough around the edges,” he said.
I looked down and saw not only coffee stains all over my clothing, but also numerous rips in my blouse, and a huge tear down the right leg of my jeans. If a person looked close enough, he could probably also detect remnants of Melba’s lunch on my shirt. “Don’t worry. I was planning to change clothes.”
“I realize that. Don’t be sarcastic. I’m just concerned about you.”
I felt bad, knowing he was only anxious and thinking about me. “I’m sorry, Stone. I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I’ve had a long day. I just meant I won’t look nearly as bad once I get into my nice pantsuit, which will cover up my scrapes, and all. I don’t really care what others think about the way I look. You know how much it will mean to me to be there at Walter’s wake. We don’t have to stay long, but I think we should at least make an appearance.”
Stone let out a long exaggerated sigh and said, “Well, you better change quickly if you really want to come. I can’t prevent you from attending the wake if you’re determined to go.”
“Okay, just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be ready.”
Chapter 16
The parking lot at St. Mary’s Catholic Church was full, and vehicles lined both sides of Cyprus Street. But that’s what you should expect when you are twenty minutes late to a wake, Stone told me. No parking was allowed on Fourth Street, so Stone dropped me off at the front door and took his Corvette to park on Elm, the next street over. I wasn’t surprised the wake of a young man like Walter would draw a large crowd. Most of the people inside the church looked to be in their upper teens and twenties. Several were dabbing their eyes with tissues. Some were openly crying, and I could hear someone sobbing uncontrollably.
I’d yet to see anyone I recognized when Stone walked through the door several minutes later. We signed the guest book and went together up to the open casket in front of the main chamber of the sanctuary.
“He looks good,” I whispered, looking down at Walter’s body.
I hate to say a person “looks good” when he’s lying dead in a coffin, but the mortician really had done a fine job with Walter. Walter looked much as he had when we’d first hired him to portray a corpse in our own make-believe coffin. He now looked quite a bit older than his twenty years, but, like I said before, death can do that to a person.
“How are you, Ms. Reed?” I heard someone say. I didn’t think anything of it until someone tugged on my sleeve and repeated the greeting. I looked around and saw Paula standing next to Stone in front of the casket. “It’s nice to see you again. Have you been here long?”
“Huh?” Stone asked. “Who?”
“Never mind, Stone,” I said, as I elbowed him lightly in the ribs. I had to give him some clue or he might say the wrong thing to the young gal, which could give away my true identity. “Paula, this is my partner, Stone. Paula and I met the other day when I was working on my investigative report for the newspaper. You know, the article I’ve been commissioned to write. She’s the best friend of Walter’s girlfriend, Sidney Hobbs.”
“Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you, Paula. I had forgotten about the article,” Stone said. He caught on quickly these days, probably from having had so much practice. “Ms. Reed and I just arrived a few minutes ago.”
Then I turned to Paula and said, “It’s so nice to see you again too, Paula. I just hate seeing you under these circumstances, of course. Speaking of Sidney, was she able to attend the visitation tonight?”
“Yes, she’s here with her parents. I was able to speak with her briefly, and she told me she wasn’t allowed to stay long. Her father hadn’t wanted her to attend the wake at all, but she’d been able to convince him she needed the closure,” Paula said.
“I can understand her need for closure,” I said. “Do you know where she is right now? I’d like to offer my condolences.”
“No. I saw her come up here to the casket, and she was in bad shape when she walked away. So, her parents might have already taken her home. She was about to lose it completely.”
Damn, damn, damn. I knew I should have left the hospital when I first contemplated it. Sidney must have been the gal I’d heard weeping when I first came in to the church. Maybe I could still catch her if I hurried.
“Excuse me, Paula and Stone. I need to use the restroom.” I limped away toward the restroom, and made a quick change of directions once I was out of sight of the crowd gathering around the casket, where Stone still stood. Paula had gone on to greet more mourners.
I spotted Sidney with an older man and woman, presumably her parents, heading toward the door. I rushed up to them, and said, “Sidney? I just wanted to catch you and offer my sincere condolences.”
“Thank you,” Sidney said between sobs. I cou
ld tell she recognized me from cheerleading practice on Saturday.
“As you may remember, I’m an investigative reporter, and I’m helping the detectives track down Walter’s killer. The more I know about Walter, the more effective I can be in assisting the officers in charge of the investigation. I can only imagine how much you want to see that person brought to justice, as do I.”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“Would you mind if I ask you a few—”
Just then Sidney’s father stepped in front of her to shield her, and said, “She’s not available for questioning, ma’am. Can’t you see how upset she is? Do you really think this is the time or place for her to answer questions? This is Walter’s wake, for goodness sakes. Like I told you before, Ms. Reed, Sidney knows nothing about the murder, and she has nothing to say to the detectives, or to you. I’m not sure you have the authority to ask her anything, anyway.”
“Well, I, er, you see—” I’d been put firmly in my place, and I felt a little ashamed of myself. I vowed I wouldn’t question anyone else at the wake. Mr. Hobbs was correct; this was neither the time nor the place to intrude on people while they were grieving the loss of a friend or loved one. I would have to find other opportunities to speak with the people on my suspect list. And now I wasn’t sure Sidney even belonged on that list. No one could fake anguish that well. I’d never seen her when she wasn’t sobbing over the loss of her boyfriend. “I’m just, well, you know, I—”
I was still blabbing long after the Hobbs family had turned to leave. Sidney turned at the door to look back at me.
“Sorry,” I mouthed. And I truly was.
I really did need to use the restroom now, so I headed toward the ladies’ room. Standing at the sink in the restroom was Walter’s sister, Sheila Talley. She had tears in her eyes as she blew her nose. Sheila visibly blanched when she looked up and saw me. I knew she was recalling the incident that had taken place in the pet store.
“I’m so sorry, Sheila, for your loss,” I said, sincerely. “And I apologize again for accidentally knocking over the fish tank at the pet store. I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble with your boss.”
“No, you didn’t. The next customer to come in the store bought an eight hundred dollar ori-pei, and two hundred dollars worth of accessories for it, so Mr. Meyer got over the fish tank accident pretty quickly,” she said with a barely detectable smile.
“What’s an ori-pei, may I ask?”
“It’s a shar-pei and pug mix. They’re really cute and kind of expensive,” Sheila said. “Mr. Meyer was anxious to sell this particular ori-pei, because it had a tendency to chew up and eat things it shouldn’t. It had just cost him over five hundred dollars to have a dime removed from the dog’s digestive tract.”
“That’s not a very good exchange rate is it, to spend five hundred dollars to get your dime back?” I asked with a grin. She flashed a more visible smile this time. I put my hand on her shoulder, and said, “I really am sorry, Sheila—for everything.”
“Thank you. What happened to your wrist?” she asked, looking at the brace resting on her shoulder blade. “Did you hurt it when you tumbled into the fish tank?”
“No, nothing like that. I just caught myself with it when I fell on the pavement yesterday. It’s only sprained, nothing serious. I’ll probably only have to wear this brace a few more days, and then it’ll be good as new.”
I didn’t want to tell her, or anybody else, that a car had struck me. I’d rather let her think I’d just tripped and fallen to the ground. It was something she’d find easy to believe. I could tell by the way she looked at me she thought I was the biggest klutz in the world. I felt for a second as though I had “Impending Disaster” written across my forehead. It did seem that way, even to me sometimes, and especially when I found myself in the middle of a murder investigation like this one.
“Well, take care,” I said, and made my way to the farthest stall. I was about to wet my pants, but I was relieved to see Sheila visibly upset at her brother’s funeral. I could tell she’d been crying, as her eyes were red and puffy. I really didn’t want to think Sheila could have had anything to do with Walter’s death, despite the money she stood to gain from it.
When I caught up with Stone again, he was speaking with Detective Johnston. Wyatt looked even sharper in a suit than he did in his police uniform. He really was a handsome fellow, I thought. Veronica, who was standing next to him, was lucky to have a man like Wyatt interested in her. She wasn’t even remotely attuned to the conversation the two men were having. She was busy blotting her lipstick and looking into the mirror of an old-fashioned compact. Veronica and I were at opposite ends of the diva scale.
Stone and Wyatt were discussing the benefits of using an artificial bait called a “gulp” to fish for walleye. It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting to hear when I joined them. How do you segue from gulps to murder? I wondered. Finally, when there was a pause in their conversation, I asked Wyatt if there was any news on the murder investigation.
“No, not much,” he said. “They’re kind of at a standstill right now.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I asked.
“These things take time, Lexie,” Wyatt said. He sounded defensive. I hadn’t meant to imply Wyatt and his co-workers were not competent at their jobs.
“Oh, I know.” For the second time in an hour I had to explain that I hadn’t meant what I’d said to come out the way it did. “I’m just being impatient. Do you know who all have been questioned by the police, so far? Has anyone been named a suspect yet?”
“Well, we haven’t had sufficient reason to name any suspects yet. But we’ve spoken to several members of Walter’s family and a number of his friends,” Wyatt said. He went on to mention most of the same people I had also spoken with. I noticed Walter’s girlfriend, Sidney Hobbs, was not one of the people he listed.
“How about his girlfriend?”
“The current one?”
“Yes. Sidney Hobbs,” I said.
“No, her parents won’t let us speak to her yet, and we have no reason to think she’s responsible, so we haven’t pressed the issue. Her father just gave a brief statement on Sidney’s behalf, and her alibi checked out to be relatively airtight.”
“I’ve tried several times to speak with her too,” I admitted. “I haven’t been able to break through the wall her parents put up either.”
“Lexie, I know you mean well, and I know you have helped bring a couple investigations to an end in the past—”
I could feel a “but” coming, so I broke in. “Listen, Wyatt, I’m just trying to help out. It’s important to me that this murderer be apprehended and brought to justice, since it happened almost beneath my nose and in Stone’s establishment. I’m only trying to assist the authorities. I’m really not attempting to interfere with the official investigation.”
“You’re not interfering, Lexie, and that’s not what I’m concerned about. Stone told me about the accident you were involved in today in the hospital parking lot. Accident may be the wrong word, though, because it doesn’t sound like it was an accident at all. It sounds like it was intentional and a direct threat to you and your safety. I just noticed you were limping and have a brace on your wrist. Is all that pain worth it? Is investigating Walter’s murder really worth you getting injured, or worse? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t either,” Stone agreed. He looked pleased that Wyatt was taking a stand and trying to convince me to back off and leave it in the detectives’ hands to find the killer. “I’ve told her I didn’t want to be involved, and I don’t want her to be involved either. Situations like this are why we have men like you, Wyatt.”
“But—” I said.
Wyatt nodded in agreement. “He’s right, Lexie.”
“But—”
“I do want to ask you some questions about what happened today, but not right now. I will stop by your house in the morning,” Wyatt continued. “Lexie, it would mean a lot to me, a
nd to Stone as well, if we could get you to stop your personal investigation into this murder. It’s causing us both a lot of stress we don’t need right now. We couldn’t stand to see anything else happen to you. You need to trust the authorities to handle the case. We are bringing in a few detectives from St. Joseph who are in the homicide division, and it shouldn’t take long to identify a suspect. Please let us take care of the case by ourselves. You’ve already been hurt badly enough. I’m sure we are closing in on the perpetrator.”
I didn’t think they were closing in on a perpetrator at all, or were any closer to apprehending a suspect than the moment they first laid eyes on the victim. But jeez, talk about putting me on a guilt trip. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I would bring it up in the morning when Wyatt came over to question me, and of course, ingest several cups of coffee and more than a few pastries.
I turned to say hello to Veronica, and the men went back to discussing fishing for walleye. Before I left to mingle in the crowd, I heard Wyatt say, “And yums are as good as gulps at attracting fish.”
As I walked through the crowd, I noticed Walter’s half-brother, Chuck Sneed, was not present. He must have decided it was more important to go to the hog-tying contest. I guess we all have our priorities. But what could be a higher priority than attending the funeral of a brother, even a half-brother? This seemed to beg for further investigation.
Sheldon Wright, Melba’s egotistical attorney, wasn’t in attendance either, but this didn’t surprise me at all. For all he knew, I might have recognized him inside the SUV, and he could be lying low lest the police were waiting to arrest him at the wake. He might be locked away in his garage at this very moment, replacing his headlight casing.
I saw Walter’s dad, Clarence, speaking with an elderly couple. Then I noticed a number of the cheerleaders I’d seen at their practice and at the football scrimmage Monday afternoon. Paula was standing with some of her fellow cheerleaders when I went up to her.
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