Yule Log Murder by Leslie Meier

Author:Leslie Meier
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-08-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Hayley thought about the old saying “If you don’t have anything nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all.” She sat, off to the right, in the back pew of the Congregational Church, listening to Reverend Staples’s sermon during Ryan Toledo’s memorial service. When the reverend stopped talking after only two minutes, Hayley assumed he was going to sneeze or apologize for losing his place on his index cards, but, no, he was done, finished. There wasn’t anything else he felt he needed to say. Just a quick recap of Ryan’s brief, troubled life, and almost a Porky Pig imitation of “That’s all, folks!” There wasn’t much of a reaction in the pews, mostly because there were so few people in attendance. Hayley counted six, including Edie Staples, the reverend’s wife, who always sat in on her husband’s sermons. The other five people scattered around the mostly empty pews included Hayley; Gemma, who was seated next to her; Kimmy Bradford, who sat closer to the front, her face buried in a white handkerchief that contrasted with her low-cut black dress; Lenora Hopkins, Ron Hopkins’s ex-wife, strangely enough, wearing a gaudy black hat with black roses sewn around the rim. She sat upright in a middle pew, staring straight ahead, a stoic look on her face. And, finally, there was Ryan’s doddering, old aunt, Esther, who had driven down from Bangor. She appeared bored and kept checking her watch, anxious for the whole affair to mercifully come to an end. That was it. Ryan’s parents were long gone, both having fled town years ago, his father to chase a woman he met while barhopping one summer night, and his mother on the run from the law for writing a slew of bad checks. Ryan’s older brother, Timmy, his only sibling, was in the state prison after getting busted and convicted of running a meth lab out of his girlfriend’s trailer in Bucksport.

Given how loathed the deceased was by many locals, it wasn’t a surprise his funeral was so sparsely attended.

What was surprising was the number of expensive flower arrangements that surrounded the standard, low-cost closed coffin. Dozens of them.

As they made their way down the aisle to pay their respects, Gemma had turned to her mother and whispered in her ear, “I’ve never seen so many flowers and less mourners.”

When they had reached the coffin in the front of the church, Hayley had bent down to check a few of the cards, and was surprised to discover that none of the cards had been signed. Nobody seemed willing to admit to sending flowers to Ryan Toledo’s funeral, which struck Hayley as very odd.

“Now, please join us in the parlor for tea and coffee, as well as some of my wife’s legendary, tasty baked goods.”

Edie Staples loved baking cakes and cookies, which she always put out after a Sunday service or memorial. The trouble was, she was a terrible baker. Her sweets were always dry and tasteless. Most people

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