Don't Ask, Don't Follow by Mary Keliikoa

Author:Mary Keliikoa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oceanview Publishing
Published: 2024-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

The judge’s reaction left me dumbfounded. Okay—the timing of the question was inappropriate—but her son had been murdered. She should want answers as to why. But I had no time to think on that more as the church had nearly emptied. Leaving with a crowd would make me less noticeable if anyone was watching.

Before I’d made it halfway down the aisle, the minister appeared at my side. “Ms. Ralston,” he said. “You’re welcome here any time. Your parents are fine people and in good standing here.” Translation: they give lots of money to the church. “That welcome will not extend to you if your intent is to harass other members.”

“I wasn’t harassing—”

His hand shot up. “Evelyn is grieving. She’s a good woman. She’s a pillar to this church and the community it advocates for.”

“I’d only asked if her son had worked with someone I know.” My voice chilled a few degrees. His defense had me on the offense.

“Now is not the time or the place for questions of any kind.”

Maybe, but he couldn’t take issue with this one. “What kind of advocating does Judge Johnson do?”

As I’d hoped, his tone lightened. “Women’s causes, addiction programs, children’s resources. She’s been an absolute angel to them and to us. I won’t allow anyone to treat her like she’s anything otherwise.”

“I didn’t mean to upset her,” I said, absorbing what he’d said. It came as no surprise that Craig came from a philanthropic family with his own volunteering at St. Luke’s Legal Clinic. But women’s and children’s services? That struck me as too great a coincidence.

His message delivered and received, the priest nodded and veered off.

I hurried out of the church, my focus on the sidewalk void of people, and lamented that I’d let the priest slow me down.

“Surprised to still see you here,” Detective Matson said from the base of the stairs, startling me.

“Hey,” I said, relieved it was him. “That seems to have been the general opinion as to my attendance. I didn’t expect to see you at all.” Although I had to admit, I was glad he was here. And not only because I didn’t want to run out on the street by myself.

“Homicide detecting 101. Attend the funeral. Never know who might attend.” He smiled. A bit unnerving. Had something changed?

“Ah,” I said, realizing he thought the murderer would show. “You still think Lindsay’s involved.”

He shrugged. Right, looking at all angles. “Where you headed?” he said.

Good question. Until Ellen Sullivan called, I had no Plan B. Although I did have her address. Standing out here, however, wasn’t the best idea. “You have a minute to chat?” I said.

“Sure.” He joined me at the top of the stairs and we went inside the church, grabbing a pew at the back.

A cleaning woman—I assumed, based on her blue apron and hair up under a bandana—shifted the plants to one side of the casket up front. She pressed her hands on the mahogany box, her face drawn, tired … sad. How many funerals had she cleaned up after?

Two men I recognized from the service joined her.

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