Murder in Mystic Grove (A Liz Bean Mystery Book 2) by S.F. Bose

Author:S.F. Bose [Bose, S.F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

The next morning I overslept thanks to more than a few glasses of wine the night before with Chloe and Olivia. Then I realized I hadn’t picked out anything suitable to wear for Justin Church’s memorial. The somber black suit I wore to Nate’s funeral was long gone because I knew I could never wear it again.

After a quick shower, I scrounged though my closet and found a black, belted, two-piece pantsuit. I added black pumps and a dressy, black shoulder bag that was big enough to carry my Glock. I decided to leave the Kahr pocket gun at home. After another moment of panic, I found my winter dress coat in the downstairs closet.

When I met Sam in front of Winnberrie’s Funeral home at 9:45 a.m., his jaw dropped when he saw me. He struggled to say something and finally blurted out, “We should dress up more often!”

I laughed and agreed, “We should.” Sam wore a black suit, maroon tie, and gray dress coat. With his ever-present gray Irish cap, he looked both handsome and professional.

The family held Justin Church’s memorial service in the main viewing room of the Winberrie Funeral Home. Cornelia Winberrie had opened the partitions separating the two side parlors from the main parlor. Despite the additional room, the big space could barely accommodate the friends of Justin, Peter, Martha, and their daughter, Joy. It looked like all of Mystic Grove had turned out.

The center aisle led to a draped platform with a large picture of a smiling Justin Church wearing a suit and tie. A black urn with gold eagles in flight sat next to the photograph. Justin’s ashes, I thought and felt sad.

Sam quietly filled me in on his phone conversation with Joel “Einstein” Poston, who had confirmed what Eddie told us about the poker games and Justin's attitude at their last game. I wasn’t surprised. Eddie struck me as a straight shooter.

Sam and I went to the front of the room and hugged Peter and Martha. Both were sad but holding it together. Martha introduced us to Maxine Hudson, Justin’s ex-wife. She was an attractive redhead who looked tired and weepy. She held crumpled tissues with one hand and her husband’s hand with the other. Paul Hudson stood close to her, watching her attentively. When I expressed condolences, she began to weep. Her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to their chairs.

Then Sam and I spoke briefly with Joy, Justin’s sister, who said his death still hadn’t sunk in. She expected him to walk up at any minute. I told her if she wanted to talk some time, she should call me, and I gave her my cellphone number. Joy introduced us to her son, Paul, who was a young teen, and her daughter, Molly, was about 10. I remembered Grandma saying that Joy had gone through a divorce recently.

When Pastor Will Thatcher of the Mystic Grove Community Church arrived, people moved to their chairs. Sam and I sat in the back of the room where I scanned the crowd.

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