“That’s awful,” Kate said. “Lachlan is beautiful—or parts of it are. What about all Tayla has done to bring this derelict town back to life?”
Jack, a platter of raw shrimp in hand, was behind Sara and he gave Kate a glare for mentioning that name. Sara and Tayla were not friends. Enemies since high school.
Sara, jaw clenched, looked down. “I forgot to point that out.”
Kate refused to be part of a forty-year-old feud. She glared back at Jack. “Well, you should have! And you should have reminded him of all Jack has done to help this town. And—”
Sara looked up and smiled. “He knows all that. Anyway, I think Daryl’s under scrutiny because he said we were to stay away from his office.”
“For now or always?” Kate asked.
“He didn’t say. He sounded bad. Whatever we don’t like about him, that man loves this town. And feels responsible for it.”
They picked up bowls of food and headed outside. The big stainless steel grill was Jack’s department. He put the shrimp and sliced vegetables on. “So that’s it, I guess. We are officially out of this case.”
Turning, he looked at them and they each had a smile of relief. The other murder they’d worked on had drained them. Emotionally and physically, it was more than they could handle.
“I nearly forgot,” Sara said. “The funeral is scheduled for Saturday.”
“Are you kidding?” Kate said. “On TV, the autopsy always takes a long time. And don’t they need the body to...to do whatever they do?”
Jack turned the shrimp. “It’s probably a fake funeral.”
“A—?” Sara began then smiled at Jack in adoration at how clever he was. “Of course. Used to gather suspects. Or at least find people who knew her.”
“Funeral or memorial service, all of Lachlan will turn out,” Kate said. “Whoever hated her isn’t going to stay home while the rest of the town attends.”
“Daryl said there was no need for me to take my camera to the service. I took that to mean that there would be videos made of the audience.”
“Which we will never see.” Kate sounded annoyed. When there was no reply, she looked up at Jack and Sara staring at her. “Which is a good thing since we are never, ever going to get involved. Right?”
“Absolutely right,” Sara said.
Jack was looking at the shrimp. “You think your clients really are going to buy my house?”
At the change of subject, Kate let out her breath. She didn’t want to do what they’d done last time, but she was curious.
They were quiet for a moment, then Jack started talking about adding to the house, and should it have hardwood floors or carpet? And what about the ceilings?
After dinner they watched TV but Kate’s mind was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice when no one put it on mute for the ads. Who? Why? kept running through her mind. She guessed that maybe the same thing was occupying Jack and her aunt Sara.
They would just have to wait. Wait until the sheriff’s department with all its glorious equipment found out why an unmemorable little old woman had been killed in such a vicious way. But Kate thought that if she heard the words serial killer she might become violent. After having seen the body, her instinct told her that this was a crime of hate. She just didn’t know if the hate was directed at Janet or if the woman had been collateral damage.
It wasn’t very late when they said good-night to each other and went to bed. It had been a long, tiring day.
* * *
Just after midnight Kate was awakened by the doorbell ringing. And ringing. The consistency was as bad as when a smoke detector battery gave out.
She practically fell out of bed and stumbled around trying to pull on a pair of leggings. Of course her toes jammed into a leg and she couldn’t get untangled.
By the time she got to the door, Jack was already waiting. Aunt Sara was just leaving her bedroom, a white robe over her T-shirt and gym pants.
The doorbell kept going.
Kate glared at Jack. “So help me, if it’s your stepmother again, I won’t buy you any more bananas.”
“She’s in Colorado and she says she’s going to stay there forever.”