Must Love Murder by Etta Faire

Author:Etta Faire [Faire, Etta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-07-30T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TRACEY AND I went to the funeral together because apparently she’s my new best friend. I circled the parking lot, trying to ignore the totally unhelpful suggestions coming from the passenger’s side while I looked for a parking spot that wouldn’t require backing in. Motorcycles, RVs, Hummers, SUVs… some double-parked in the red. This place was packed. A group of scruffy-looking men in leather with head-bandanas slowly walked in front of my car. The one with the snake tattoo around his neck looked back and pounded on my hood, smiling up at Tracey.

“He’s cute,” she said, pulling the sun visor down so she could check her makeup. Was she really going to try to pick up men… at a funeral? I didn’t even know that was a thing.

I looked down at her stiletto go-go boots and mini. “Yep, I’m pretty sure you’re not here to say good-bye to poor Earl,” I thought as I scanned the parking lot for a beige sedan, Earl’s partner Vernon, his daughter Patsy, or the casserole lady who covered his head in baked ziti.

My aunt had created a monster with this woman’s makeover.

Tracey wiped away stray eyeliner with her pinkie. “We’re going to be late. I told you we should’ve left an hour ago.”

“Who knew Earl was so popular?”

I followed a funeral director who was motioning vehicles into a grass back lot and finally found a spot next to a group of bikers. Tracey practically jumped out of the car to walk in with them. I took my time because I wanted to look for clues.

Earl’s church with its Mexican-influenced architecture and curved doorways sent shivers down my spine. It was ominous and white, and it reminded me of the sugar-cube California Missions assignment I am always the one gluing together last minute whenever one of my kids reaches fourth grade.

I looked around, nothing seemed suspicious. Two men stood at the door handing out programs, and I instantly recognized the thin one with the big nose and long gray braid running down the back of his suit from the internet searches I’d done on Survivalist Supplies. Vernon Phelps. I smiled as I took the paper from him, and he winked. Was everyone here looking to hook-up?

Inside, the church was even more crowded than the parking lot. Camouflage and combat boots, stale tobacco and body odor. I never felt so overdressed at a funeral before. Even though there were a few spots left in the pews, the claustrophobia in me wouldn’t let me squeeze into them. So I stood at the back with the rest of the nervous types and looked around while Tracey wiggled her way into a tight spot next to a large sweaty man in a leather jacket.

Judith had just started speaking at the podium.

“Earl Higgins. What can I say? Earl had his moments, that’s for sure. Love him or hate him,” she said as she put a pair of reading glasses on and looked down at her notes. “As you may know, my dad is Tank Bowman.

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