Killer Physique (A Savannah Reid Mystery) by G. A. McKevett

Author:G. A. McKevett [McKevett, G. A.]
Language: spa
Format: epub
Published: 2014-04-11T09:38:48+00:00

Chapter 17

As Savannah sat next to Dirk in one of the wooden pews of the Wee Kirk o’ the Heather, with Ryan and John to her left and Tammy and Waycross in the row behind her, she couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for several reasons.

First, she felt uneasy about the fact that she and her entourage had been al owed to attend the smal , private funeral when thousands of others had been turned away.

The tiny chapel—one of three lovely churches located inside the famous cemetery Forest Lawn—held less than a hundred visitors at a time. So she had been surprised when Ryan had told her that Jason’s manager had invited not only him and John, but the rest of Savannah’s Moonlight Magnolia Detective Agency as wel .

“He appreciates the work you’ve al done on Jason’s behalf,” Ryan had said. “And he wants you at the service, if you can make it.” If they could make it?

If they could attend an event in a venue as wonderful as this charming and famous little chapel? Of course they could. She would’ve been there with bel s on, if bel s were appropriate funeral attire.

Instead Savannah wore a somber black dress, and Dirk had dusted off his only suit, which was navy. And although they had discussed acceptable animal prints, Tammy had opted for an eggplant sheath. Waycross had borrowed Dirk’s old sports coat.

And now she sat here with her team, feeling guilty, because she couldn’t keep her mind on what the minister up front was saying. Her mind was even straying from the deceased, who lay in the closed coffin at the front of the church.

She couldn’t help thinking about this building and its luminous history.

Inside these stone wal s, beneath the dark, wooden ceiling with its heavy, arched beams, so many beloved celebrities had gathered to memorialize and celebrate each other.

Ronald Reagan had married Jane Wyman here, and Regis Philbin had taken Joy to be his wife only a few feet away from where Savannah was sitting. She couldn’t resist the thought that Clark Gable or Carol Lombard may have sat right here in this pew when they had attended Jean Harlow’s funeral. And what a unique experience it must have been when Chico Marx’s rabbi had delivered his eulogy here in this reproduction of a lovely, old Scottish church.

And outside the chapel, interred among a quarter of a mil ion lesser-known people, were the earthly remains of such beloved celebrities as James Stewart, Elizabeth Taylor, Walt Disney, Errol Flynn, Michael Jackson, Sam Cooke, Red Skelton, Louis L’Amour, and L. Frank Baum, as wel as George Burns and Gracie Al en.

It was nearly impossible for her to keep her mind trained on the business at hand when surrounded by so much history.

But she forced herself to do so. Anything less would have been disrespectful to Jason Tyrone.

And although she knew it was true, she couldn’t imagine that the coffin in the front of the room contained that beautiful, vibrant human being.

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