Murder, Vice, and Pumpkin Spice by Cari Dubiel

Author:Cari Dubiel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery
Publisher: Cari Dubiel
Published: 2017-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

KIM COLORED HER HAIR for the calling hours. Three shades of red, one close to neon. "Isn't the point to blend in?" I asked as we approached the funeral home. I would have worn an invisibility cloak if one existed. Alas, I was visible; I hoped my mousy presence would go unnoticed.

"We need clues," Kim said. "If I stand out, people will talk to me. And besides, we want to take the focus off you."

I couldn't argue with that one.

I hate the way a funeral home feels: like grief and musty sadness. This one was no different. The line for Kate's viewing snaked out of the room and into the hall. We joined it, and I closed my eyes to listen.

"How did you know Kate?" I heard Kim say to the people in front of us. I took a step behind her. Maybe I could blend in with the wallpaper. Then again, I wasn't covered in tiny yellowing roses.

"I'm her cousin," replied the woman. "And you?"

"Preschool moms."

The cousin tsked. "Poor Ashquin."

The child in question was nowhere to be seen. "Do you know how he's doing?" I spoke up. I couldn't help myself. I kept thinking of Noah - what would happen if he lost me.

Kate's cousin looked at me. I hoped she lived far, far away. Perhaps she had flown in from Abu Dhabi to pay her respects. "As well as can be expected." She frowned. "You look familiar."

Okay, not Abu Dhabi. Maybe Philadelphia? "I have one of those faces." I giggled, and it came out somewhat crazed. "Just a familiar-looking one. Nothing to see here."

"No. I know I've seen you before."

I stepped behind Kim and pulled my phone from my purse. While she continued to chatter, I scrolled through my texts. Nothing new, thank God. Maybe that whole thing was over. It had been nearly a week since Kate's death, and I hadn't yet returned to work. But I was active in my classes, and I was spending more time with Noah. Preschool would start Monday.

We followed the line of cream-colored carpet toward Kate's viewing room. "So would you say anyone was... unhappy with her?" I cringed. Subtlety was not Kim's strength.

Then I saw him. Ashquin. The little boy sat in an armchair, his legs dangling off the side. He was alone. I cut out of the line and went to him.

"Hey," I said, soft. He looked up. His face was a cherub's, his curls black and tangle-tumbled. His cheeks showed the streaks of old tears. I admired his bravery. "Do you know me?"

"Noah's mom." He kicked his heels, but his legs met empty air.

I crouched and reached for his hand. He flinched at first, but then relaxed. His small fingers were so like Noah's. The column of my chest ached. "I want you to know we are here for you. You can come play whenever you want."

"What are you doing with my son?"

I jumped and let go. "I'm sorry." I'd never seen Ashquin's father before. Kate stayed at home, thus each preschool function, drop off, and pick up were her responsibilities.

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