by Raven Snow
“No,” Rose said immediately. “This week is slow, and it’s an okay story. If I have to go, you have to go.”
Willow groaned noisily. “This is pretty weird,” Eric conceded. “I wouldn’t mind not going myself.”
Rowen had to give him that. Going to Lenny Lebowitz’s funeral did seem more than a little disrespectful. Mrs. Lebowitz had invited them, but she was probably just being vindictive again. She had sounded scarily calm over the phone. To say she was angry seemed like an understatement. She was past angry. She had reached some sort of rage Nirvana. “I wouldn’t rule the wife out as a suspect.”
“No one murdered Lenny,” Eric said with a sigh.
“It’s always murder,” said Willow.
“I don’t think so,” muttered Peony. “I met Mrs. Lebowitz when she came for a meeting with you guys once. She seemed nice.”
“Okay, Mrs. Lebowitz is not nice,” said Eric, “but I don’t think she’s a murderer either. No questioning her about stuff like that at the funeral, understood? She’s still a client.”
“Fine,” sighed Rowen.
“I’m serious.”
“I said I wouldn’t,” Rowen said again. She couldn’t exactly blame him for being thorough. Questioning Mrs. Lebowitz did sound like something she would do… or put her cousins up to.
“That goes for you guys in the back, too,” Eric added.
Rowen sighed. Well, there went that plan.
It was a graveside service, and the funeral was a small affair. There were only a couple dozen people there and all of them were making awkward small talk or determinedly refusing to make eye contact. Given the way Lenny Lebowitz had died, it was probably to be expected. Mrs. Lebowitz was standing very tall some ways off from the grave itself wearing a very pretty, but very red, A-line dress.
Rowen and company approached her first. Eric went ahead of them, giving her a very solemn greeting even though it was probably completely unnecessary. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” he said.
Mrs. Lebowitz turned and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you,” she said.
Rowen stepped forward next. “If there’s anything we can do…” she added, trailing off because it seemed appropriate.
“No,” Mrs. Lebowitz assured them. “You’ve done plenty just by showing up. I invited Ms. Deetz, but she didn’t even bother RSVP’ing.” No surprise Libby had opted out of this affair. “Hussy,” Mrs. Lebowitz added, still smiling that tight-lipped smile of hers.
“Well, we’ll be around if you want to chat.” Eric backed everyone up. Carrying on a conversation with Mrs. Lebowitz seemed like it might be uncomfortable.
Rose spotted Ben as soon as they stepped away from Mrs. Lebowitz. Everyone was herded off in that direction. “Why are you here?” asked Eric, raising an eyebrow.
“I was invited,” Ben said with a shrug. “And I knew Rose was coming. I figured I’d keep her company. Besides, it looks good when the Chief of Police does this sort of thing.”
“Gets invited to a funeral by a widow as a living reminder of her husband’s infidelity?” Eric asked.
Ben frowned. “I don’t think I thought this through.”
Rose put an arm around her boyfriend. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” said Rowen, lowering her voice. “They examined the victim, right? Any sign that it’s-”
“It wasn’t murder,” said Ben, bluntly.
“Told you so,” Eric grumbled. “Stop wishing it was murder.”
“I don’t wish it was murder,” Rowen snapped. She toned it down a bit when that earned them some odd looks. She also noticed that Peony was standing there, looking awfully uncomfortable. Willow was exchanging some words with her, quietly, looking concerned. “Something wrong?” asked Rowen.
Willow looked up. “She doesn’t like the feel of things here,” she said. “Neither do I, honestly. It feels… wrong.”
“Well, yeah.” Rowen had felt a negative energy since they arrived. “It’s the mood of this place. It’s got more negative emotions than most funerals.”
“It’s more than that,” said Peony. She looked frustrated, like she wanted to put what she was feeling into words but couldn’t. “It feels… It’s a different kind of bad.”
Rowen looked around. She tried to pinpoint what it was Peony was feeling. Was there something else here? “Is it coming from a certain direction?” she asked.
Peony looked around. She considered the question. It seemed to take her a moment to pinpoint where the energy was coming from. “There,” she said, finally, pointing in the direction of the grave.
Rowen took a few steps toward the grave. Everyone was heading in that direction now. Pallbearers were bringing the coffin across the lawn. The service would be starting soon. The closer Rowen got to the grave, the more she felt it. Peony was right. There was something amiss here. “What’s up?” Eric called after Rowen. She held up a finger, trying to concentrate. There wasn’t much time before they would all have to sit down and listen to a sermon. She didn’t want to be confined to a chair before she figured this out. “Where are you going?” Eric insisted.
Rowen reached the edge of the grave. She peered down through the contraption that lowered the casket. She could see dirt. Just dirt. “You okay?” asked Rose. “Because that seems sort of morbid. People are looking at you.”
“That’s it,” said Peony, coming up on her other side.
“What’s it?” asked Rose. She didn’t share their gifts, what with being adopted and all. She had learned to trust her cousin’s instincts but, this time, she was out of the loop.
“Down there,” said Rowen. She felt it, too. They were right. “Um.” She looked up. The priest was nearby, giving her an almost pitying look. “Do you think we could see if there’s something down there really quick?”
“What?” asked the priest. He motioned back to the approaching casket as if that might answer her question. “The service is about to begin, if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat, ma’am.”
“Ben.” Rowen looked over her shoulder, but he was standing some ways off. It was probably better not to involve him anyway. If she was wrong about this, the Chief of Police shouldn’t be involved in hindering a funeral. Everyone thought the Greensmiths were insane anyway. If anyone was going down for this, it might as well be her. “I need to look in the grave,” Rowen told the priest.
The priest still looked absolutely unprepared for dealing with any of this. He stared. “No,” he said sounding baffled that it even needed to be stated.
“I’m really sorry about this.” Rowen looked at the pallbearers who were nearing the grave. “Can you, um, set him in the grass for just a second? I need to… well… excuse me.” Rowen went down onto her hands and knees and began to scoot herself off into the grave. Immediately, both Eric and the priest dove for her. Rowen scrambled, dropping the six feet down onto the dirt. She landed hard and her blue dress was covered in the rising cloud of dirt.
“Rowen!” Eric shouted, sounding mortified. There were quite a few faces peering down at her now.
“Oh, it’s fine,” said Mrs. Lebowitz’s voice from somewhere, sounding quite calm. “This is just fine.”
“Sorry!” Before someone could climb down and extract her from the grave, Rowen looked down at the dirt beneath her feet. It was loose, not packed down like the walls. She could feel that odd sensation down here clearer than ever. Rowen began to dig at the dirt with her fingers. It didn’t take long. Rowen gave a shriek as her hand touched something fleshy. She saw a wrist and the edge of a sleeve. “Ben!” she called, it was definitely time for him now.
“Is that a body?” asked Willow, loudly enough for everyone to hear. Everyone seemed to crowd around the grave then, creating the panic Rowen had been hoping to avoid.
“Call backup,” Rowen yelled to Ben, but he already looked to be doing just that. It looked like Rowen had her murder after all. She wasn’t even a little happy about it, though she had a feeling Mrs. Lebowitz mi
ght be. Lenny wasn’t even the most interesting dead guy at his own funeral.
Chapter Three
The police came quickly. The guests were run off when it became clear they had no information to offer. Even Mrs. Lebowitz went home. The late Mr. Lebowitz remained in the grass. No one really knew what to do with him seeing as his grave was already occupied. Rowen sat off to one side with her family. They had dragged over some folding chairs from the funeral that was definitely not taking place any time soon. Currently, there were some people photographing and forensics doing their thing around and inside the grave. They hadn’t gotten the dead guy out yet. Rowen supposed there was no hurry. It wasn’t like he had somewhere to be.
“Who do you think it is?” asked Willow, snapping a discrete picture with the camera she’d brought along in her purse. This was going to be a story for sure.
“I don’t know,” said Rowen, watching the police work.
“I can’t stand not knowing,” Willow complained. “You should have uncovered the face.”
Rowen shot her cousin a look. “I don’t think so.” As soon as she had seen that it was a body and alerted Ben, she’d demanded Eric help her out of there.
“We’ll see in a little bit,” said Rose, pointing to where Ben was having a word with his men graveside. “It looks like the people here for the body are getting antsy. From the looks of it, forensics has done about everything they can.”
Peony looked from Rose to the crime scene. “How can you tell?” she asked. To her credit, it looked about like it had for the last thirty minutes.”
“She watches him all the time,” said Willow smirking. “He takes her on ride alongs.”
“What can I say?” Rose shrugged, not looking ashamed in the least. “I love watching that man work.”
“Why don’t you just marry him then?” Willow teased, earning a blush from Rose that time.
“Hush.” Rowen elbowed her cousin. She pointed at the distant parking lot instead. “See that?” she asked. There was a familiar news van pulling up.
“It was only a matter of time before Channel 2 got here,” said Rose, sounding thankful for the change of subject.
“They’re going to start to wonder why you guys are always on this side of the police tape,” said Eric, playing a game on his phone. He wasn’t all that concerned with proceedings given that there wasn’t anything any of them could do until they had more information to work with.
“You think she’ll do another exposé on us?” asked Rose, smirking. She looked to be only half serious, but that was something that could actually happen. Julia Martinez had done it before.
“They’re bringing him out,” said Willow, calling everyone’s attention back to the grave. Several men were indeed hoisting him out on a stretcher. Rowen and her family stood. Maybe it was morbid, but they wanted a better look. The man was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. There was still a lot of dirt on him, but he looked familiar. Rowen couldn’t quite place him.
“I know who that is,” said Eric, standing from his folding chair. “Hey, Ben!” he called. “I know who that is!”
“Who is it,” asked Rowen, but Eric waited until Ben had approached.
“That’s Jerry,” said Eric, keeping his voice low. “The camera man for Channel 2. He’s always with Julia. Remember? We just saw him last night.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Rowen looked at the stretcher. He was right. She recognized him now. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s him.” She looked up the hill toward the van in the parking lot. “Julia Martinez just pulled up, too. Someone… someone should say something to them.”
Ben nodded. “We’ll have to talk to them… You’re sure about this?”
Eric and Rowen both nodded. “Pretty sure,” said Eric.
Ben headed up the hill and Rowen followed. It seemed like Eric was about to tell her not to, but then he tagged along as well. She was curious about whether or not Julia and her crew suspected anything was wrong. This was a mystery with a lot more depth than a cheating spouse. It might not be any of their business, but they couldn’t help but be curious.
Intern Benji had the camera. He was struggling a bit under its weight and Julia was looking more than a little annoyed that he couldn’t seem to get a handle of it. She looked up when Ben approached. “Oh!” She smiled at him. “How convenient. Mind giving us a statement on what’s going on here, Sir?” she motioned for Craig to get the sound ready.
“Don’t film anything just yet, please,” said Ben, stopping in front of them.
Julia frowned at that but stood down. She looked past Ben to Rowen and Eric. Her frown deepened, like she suspected they had something to do with all of this. “I don’t appreciate this sort of favoritism. We have just as much--no, more of a right to be here and report the facts. Our viewers number in the--”
“This isn’t about that,” Ben assured her, interrupting. “We think you might know the deceased.”
Julia’s eyes widened at that. Benji looked at Craig who seemed uneasy. Even Frank slid the door to the van open and peered out. “It’s Jerry, isn’t it?” he asked. He shook his head. “I knew it. I knew something was wrong when he wasn’t answering his phone this morning.”
Ben didn’t confirm anything. “Please, come with me,” he said. He led them all down the hill. He didn’t take them over to where they were loading up Jerry. That would be a bit too morbid. He probably needed to prepare them for that first. There were plenty of other questions that needed to be asked, and Rowen doubted that she was invited to hear the answers to them. That didn’t stop everyone from wandering over and listening in.
Rowen elbowed her husband to get his attention. “What’s she doing?” she asked, indicating Willow. Her cousin had wandered after Ben and was currently inserting herself into some sort of conversation.
“I’m not sure,” said Eric, staring for a moment. “But I think… I think she’s chatting up that intern guy.”
Sure enough, it looked for all the world like she had picked now to try and chat up Benji. “I can’t believe this. Should I go get her?”
Eric shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ve stepped off to one side now. He looks pretty into it.”
“I can’t believe her.” Rowen gave a sigh. “Well, he better not be the murderer. That’s all I have to say about that.”
Chapter Four
It was a slow night at both of the Greensmith offices. Rowen had been over at the Inquirer. She had finished up some last minute editing before heading back on over to help Eric--not that there was anything that needed doing. Things were dead tonight. Their last case had, quite literally, died. Now, there wasn’t anything left to do.
Rowen sat on the uncomfortable ornate sofa against the wall and watched some television. There was paperwork to file, but Eric was taking care of that. She figured she would wait for him to finish up so they could head home together. It was storming pretty bad out, and she didn’t like the idea of him driving home alone in it if it got any worse.
Channel 2 news was missing Julia Martinez. Lydia Smithy was their head correspondent tonight instead. As annoying as Rowen found Julia, she had to admit that the news was lackluster without her. Lydia was doing a lousy job. She kept stuttering her words and seemed afraid to look at the camera. She was talking now about the tragic death of their own, Jerry Borowski. He had been a great employee, thirty-five, loved reality shows and ultimate Frisbee. He would be dearly missed. At the moment, there were no additional details on his murder.
Rowen didn’t know a whole lot about the case. It seemed to her like the police were stumped, but she couldn’t say for sure. Ben had asked her to try and contact the deceased, but she had had no luck. That was common. When a séance didn’t turn up any leads, he’d told her to sit tight. Rowen wanted to help, but he insisted that wouldn’t be necessary. He would come to her if he got stuck. Rowen didn’t care for that. She felt like past high profile cases in this town should have proved she would be an asset to any crime solving.
“Stop moping,�
�� said Eric, not bothering to even look up from his filing.
“I’m not moping,” Rowen grumbled.
“Sure.” Eric sounded unconvinced. “Ben is just doing his job. He can’t fill us in on the details every time there’s a crime, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rowen nodded to the television, eager to change the subject. “Do you think Benji is the one shooting this?”
“I’m sure they have more than one camera man.” Eric shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“They met up last night,” said Rowen. “They went to the movies and out to eat. Aunt Nadine told me. She said she likes the guy.”
“Ah.” Eric seemed to catch on to what was bothering her. “He could be,” he said. “He’s just an intern. Interns aren’t motivated enough to murder anyone. Trust me, I’ve been an intern.”
That didn’t comfort Rowen much. She remembered the time Peony had dated a man who turned out to be a criminal. He was still in prison. He could rot there for all Rowen cared. Peony had been shy about dating anyone ever since. Rowen wasn’t going to let something like that happen ever again. “I don’t trust him.”
“You’re paranoid,” Eric insisted. “What are the odds of that happening again?”
Thunder boomed and the television went to static for a few seconds. “You almost finished?” asked Rowen. She wanted to get home before the weather got any worse. Before Eric could answer, the front door opened. Both Rowen and her husband looked up as wind and rain came whipping inside.
There was a woman in the doorway. She was tall and slender and wearing a tight mauve dress suit. She folded up her umbrella before continuing inside, the door banging shut behind her. For a few moments she just stood there. She stood ramrod straight, looking from Rowen to Eric. She was an attractive older lady, maybe in her early sixties. Her hair was gray and shoulder length. The lines on her face were stern. “Which one of you is the private investigator?” she asked, her tone a bit on the well-spoken and haughty side.
