Memorial for Death (Mortician Murder Mysteries Book 3) by A. E. Howe

Author:A. E. Howe [Howe, A. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

Back at the funeral home, Kay walked into the embalming room and smiled at Lester. He looked worried.

“I told Lee I’ll answer the phone when you have to go out,” Lester told her.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I was hoping I’d get the chance to meet your mother.”

“I mean… I guess… at the service.” Lester was obviously nervous.

“I was thinking I could go over to your place now.”

“Now? What do you want to talk to her about?”

“Brendan Rhodes.”

“Not me?”

“No, not you.”

“You won’t say anything bad about me?” Lester looked down at the floor.

“Why would I do that?” Kay saw a vulnerability in Lester that she had never noticed before.

“I just… She would be upset.” His eyes never rose to meet hers.

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll tell her what a great guy you are.”

“That would be nice.” Lester finally looked up and smiled hesitantly.

“Lester… Are you afraid of your mother?”

His eyes shot back down to the floor. “Not really afraid of her,” he said unconvincingly.

“Was she tough on you?”

“After Dad left, she kinda expected a lot out of me. I don’t… didn’t live up to her expectations,” Lester mumbled.

“You’re a good guy. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself.”

“I just want to make her proud of me.”

“I’ll talk you up, and tomorrow at the funeral we’ll make sure that you look important.” Kay was surprised to find herself feeling the need to protect Lester.

“You should be able to find her at my apartment.”

Kay reassured him again that she wouldn’t say anything to make him look bad in the eyes of his mother, then headed over to Lester’s garage apartment. When she got there, she found Lester’s mother in the front yard talking animatedly with his landlord, who looked ready to punch her in the face.

“And you need to fix the light at the back door. I’ve made a list of all the deficiencies I’ve found. I’d like a written response to each and every item, or we will turn this over to the local code enforcement office.” She handed him an envelope.

The middle-aged man kept his eyes averted. Not because he was ashamed or subservient, but because his eyes were burning red with anger. He was chewing on his lip as he snatched the envelope from her hand. “I will look into these,” he said through gritted teeth.

“See that you do.” Mrs. Andrews turned away and started back toward Lester’s front door. The man shook his fist at her before turning and stomping off.

“Mrs. Andrews?” Kay hurried over to intercept her.

Lester’s mother turned toward Kay, who took a long look at her. Janet Andrews was tall, with blonde hair that was styled professionally and pulled back with a hair band. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a TV show—one of those shows that thought it was very hip, but was really filled with aging actors struggling for relevance. Mrs. Andrews’s eyes were dark and piercing with an intensity that felt menacing.

“May I help you?” she asked.

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