Brutality (30 page)

The church was filling up, and Fina saw a couple of familiar faces. Dana Tompkins, the lab postdoc, was there, and heads turned when Tasha and D walked down the aisle toward the altar. They were an extremely attractive couple; people probably noticed whenever they walked into a room. Fina was checking her watch, antsy for the service to begin, when Gus Sibley took a seat a couple of rows in front of her.

The organ stopped for a brief interlude during which the only sounds in the church were rustling programs, whispers, and the occasional cough. Fina turned to see Liz’s family milling around at the back of the church. Jamie was standing near the front door, wearing sunglasses, his daughter gripping his hand. Bobbi stood with two women who Fina assumed were Liz’s sisters. Liz’s son held on to Bobbi. The music started up again a few minutes later, prompting Jamie to straighten his tie and tuck his sunglasses into his pocket. The family proceeded to the front of the church, their faces a combination of sadness and confusion.

Fina took a deep breath.

A car fire was nothing compared to this.

—

P
eople always talk about funeral services being “lovely,” but Fina didn’t understand what that meant. That the deceased was remembered fondly? One would hope that would be the case. That the readings and music were pleasing? She found it hard to focus on those elements with bereaved family members in attendance.

She supposed that Liz’s funeral was lovely, but was still relieved when it was over. Fina followed the flow of mourners out to their cars while the immediate family continued on to the cemetery for the interment. The guests were told to meet for a reception at the local community center.

Fina drove the five minutes to the center and was directed into a parking space by a young man in a dark suit. Inside the building, she was sent down a hallway to a function room that probably hosted everything from funerals to parties to Mommy and Me classes. Tables were pushed to the side of the room, laden with food and drink. Flower arrangements flanked a smaller table that held framed photos of Liz and her family. Fina scoured the crowd for a familiar face and saw Kelly emerging from a set of swinging doors, carrying a tray of little sandwiches.

“Kelly,” Fina said, meeting her at the refreshments.

“Hi, Fina.”

“How are you holding up?”

Kelly brushed her hair back from her eyes. She was wearing a black skirt suit that could have been an interview suit in another life. Fina couldn’t help but notice that the attire for funerals and corporate America were interchangeable.

“I’m okay,” Kelly said.

“I didn’t see you at the service,” Fina noted.

“I offered to take care of things here. The last thing Jamie or Bobbi needed was to be worrying about this.” She gestured toward the food.

“That was nice of you.”

“I’m just trying to help out. Speaking of which, I should check on some things.”

“Of course. Take care.”

Kelly left, and Fina got a cup of punch before wandering over to the table of photographs. A few of them had been featured in the program, but others were unfamiliar. Fina examined them while keeping an eye on the rest of the room. Cristian and Pitney were speaking to an older couple she didn’t know, and Gus Sibley was deep in conversation with a couple of younger men. Tasha and D walked in her direction from the bar area, each with a plastic cup in hand.

“How are you two?” Fina asked, meeting them halfway. The three of them drifted over to a bank of windows overlooking the woods.

“We’re okay,” Tasha said, “given the circumstances.”

“I just saw Kelly,” Fina said.

Tasha looked around. “I haven’t seen her.”

“She organized this; she’s been in and out.”

Tasha made a face, but Fina couldn’t identify it. Amusement? Irritation?

“What?” Fina asked.

“I’m just not surprised that she organized it. She’s big on organizing stuff.”

“Well, I suppose somebody had to do it,” Fina said.

“It’s probably a big help to Jamie,” D commented.

“I know,” Tasha said. “I don’t mean to downplay her support.”

“Were the three of you close in college?” Fina asked, sipping her punch.

“Liz and me and Kelly?” Tasha asked.

“Yeah.”

“We were. Liz and I lived in the same dorm, so that made our relationship a little bit different, but we were all friends.”

There was a murmur near the door as Bobbi, Jamie, and the rest of the family came into the room. They didn’t make much progress before well-wishers approached them to offer hugs and words of condolence.

“I can’t imagine losing my wife,” D commented, watching someone embrace Jamie.

“Good,” Tasha said, and gave him a smile.

“And with little kids to raise? I guess maybe that helps you get through the day, knowing you have to take care of them,” he said.

“Jamie’s going to need help, that’s for sure,” Tasha said. “He looks exhausted.”

Fina watched him. He looked disengaged, but he was probably just trying to hold it together. “Bobbi told me the other day that his knee’s been acting up,” Fina said.

Tasha nodded. “I did the same thing to mine a few years out of college. It still bothers me once in a while.”

“His injury’s a little different,” D said, sipping his drink. “You tore your meniscus, but he fractured his knee.”

Fina looked at D, surprised at his familiarity with Jamie’s injury.

“I checked it out for him when he wiped out,” D explained, sensing the question on her face.

“Ah. It’s always good having a doctor for a friend.”

“It is, if you don’t mind people wanting free consults all the time,” Tasha said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” D insisted. “If I can take a quick look and save someone a trip to the ER, I’m happy to do it.”

“So you were able to fix him up?” Fina asked.

“I took a look, but he needed to see an orthopedist. There’s only so much I can do in our living room, particularly when it’s not my specialty.”

“I wonder who he saw,” Fina mused.

“I assume he saw Gus Sibley, or someone at his practice. Speaking of injuries,” D said, gesturing to her hand, “what happened to you?”

“I was in that car fire on the Tobin the other day. I’m fine.”

“You live quite an exciting life, Fina,” Tasha said, with perhaps a touch of disapproval.

Fina smiled. “Not really. Do
you
know if Jamie saw Gus for his knee?” Fina looked at Tasha, who held up her hands.

“I have no idea who he saw,” Tasha said. “Does it matter?”

“Nope,” Fina said. “Just curious.”

Tasha gave her a sidelong look, but Fina ignored it. There was no blueprint for an investigation, and Fina had learned that being curious was her best guide.

—

F
ina spent another forty-five minutes making small talk with other mourners in the hopes of uncovering some nugget of information that would blow the case wide open. Instead, she heard stories of Liz’s childhood and descriptions of the associations that linked the attendees to the Barone family.

Now she stood listening to an elderly gentleman give her a blow-by-blow description of his knee replacement. Fina did her best to nod and murmur in the appropriate spots, but her attention was drawn across the room to where Jamie and Gus were standing a few feet apart, steadfastly ignoring each other. Although both were speaking to other people, their body language betrayed their true intentions. Rather than coexisting in the same space casually, they stood stiffly, angled away from each other. Fina had seen it before and had practiced this kind of body language herself, especially if Elaine was nearby.

Jamie’s conversation wrapped up, and he stole a glance at Gus. A woman spoke to Jamie, but he brushed her off and, giving Gus a wide berth, made his way out of the room.

The old man was threatening to roll up his pant leg and give Fina a gander at his new knee, but she had better things to do. She wished him luck with his orthopedic endeavors and set her empty plastic cup on a table, then left through the same door Jamie had.

The hallway was empty, so Fina retraced her steps to the entry of the community center, but its only occupants were a few preschoolers dragging backpacks across the tiled floor. She popped outside and thought she caught a flash of him turning the corner of the building.

When Fina caught up with him a minute later, he was hunched over a cigarette, trying to strike a match in the stiff, frigid wind.

“Here,” Fina said, standing in front of him and cupping her hands above his.

Jamie touched the flame to the end of the cigarette and inhaled deeply. Taking a step toward the building, he pulled his sunglasses out of his jacket with his free hand and placed them on his face.

Fina fished her gloves out of her pockets and pulled them on. “I don’t know how people deal in places where it’s really cold,” she commented, “like Alaska.”

Jamie held out the package of cigarettes in her direction. “Want one?”

She shook her head.

“It’s my wife’s funeral,” Jamie said after a minute of silence. “I’m thirty-eight, and it’s my wife’s funeral. There’s something seriously wrong with that.”

“I agree.” Fina kicked at a small hillock of ice. “Anyone you’re surprised to see here today? Or not, for that matter?”

“What do you mean?” He tapped loose ash onto the ground.

“Just that. Is there anyone that you thought would show up who hasn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Anyone you weren’t expecting?”

“What? Like her attacker?”

Fina shrugged. “It’s more common than you might think.”

“Like arsonists who return to the scene?”

“Essentially.”

Jamie inhaled again and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling. “Nope. I haven’t noticed either way.”

Fina nodded. She wasn’t going to ask him about Gus. It would be easy for him to shrug it off or claim she was mistaken about them purposely ignoring each other. She was going to hold on to that little tidbit for the time being.

“I’m going to say good-bye to Bobbi,” Fina said, backing away from him.

Jamie made an approximation of a wave and turned his focus to his cigarette.

Inside, Fina sought out Bobbi and they exchanged a tight hug. The grief and exhaustion etched on Bobbi’s face were just the impetus Fina needed to get back to work.

—

I
s this supposed to be symbolic, Pamela? Meeting the day of Liz Barone’s funeral?” Kevin slid onto a bar stool next to her. They were at a restaurant and bar near his office, just before the lunch hour.

“No. There’s nothing symbolic about it.” She took a long drink from the tumbler in her hand.

“Are you drinking at this hour? You need to calm down and stop worrying.”

“It’s club soda, Kevin. Don’t be a moron.”

He made a face of mock offense and gestured to the bartender. Kevin ordered a soda, and his attention drifted to the TV over the bar. A basketball game was on. It took him a few seconds to identify the teams and would only take a minute more for him to become thoroughly engrossed.

“Focus, Kevin,” Pamela said, tapping the bar in front of him. The bartender put a tall glass down. Some tiny bubbles leapt off the surface, but Kevin was willing to bet it would taste flat and slightly metallic.

“What’s the emergency?” he asked, taking a sip that confirmed his suspicions.

“I spoke with Fina Ludlow a few days ago. She’s not going to stop nosing around.”

“She’ll stop eventually.”

“I want her to stop now,” Pamela said, nudging her empty glass away.

Kevin shrugged, feeling irritated. “No one cares about minor transgressions when there are more serious matters at hand.”

“So you say.”

“What do you want me to do? We’ve already had this conversation. Stop worrying and just do your job.”

“Right.” Pamela reached into her bag and pulled out some cash.

“That’s it? You dragged me out of my office for this?”

She stopped and looked at him. “How’s your girlfriend, Kevin?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, and idle gossip is beneath you, Pamela.”

“I just want to make sure that you understand the seriousness of the situation,” she said.

“Oh, I understand, but it seems to me that you’re causing more problems by freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out.”

Kevin leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Then calm down, for Christ’s sake.”

She exhaled loudly. “Just remember that you have something to lose, too. It’s not just me.”

He glared at her. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Of course it’s not a threat. Don’t be so touchy.” Pamela slid off the high stool and picked up her coat and bag. “I thought you were good at getting your way and fixing things. I’m not seeing much evidence of that.”

Kevin watched as she crossed the room.

That woman could be such a cow.

20.

Fina stopped by a drive-thru and got a burger and fries to take home. There had been finger food at the reception, but she’d been too focused on the guests to make a dent in her hunger.

Once home, she kicked off her heels and padded into the living room. She grabbed a diet soda from the fridge—carbonated drinks from a fountain machine were a crime against humanity—and unwrapped the food on the coffee table. It felt good to sit back and ingest some calories.

As she chewed, Fina replayed the funeral in her mind. There hadn’t been any earth-shattering revelations, but there were morsels here and there that warranted a second look. Not that deep reflection was at the top of her list at the moment; she was due a nap.

Fina was heading to the bedroom to change when there was a knock at her door. When she’d first moved into Nanny’s, she’d provided the concierge with a list of visitors who should always be granted access, including her brothers, Cristian, Milloy, Frank, Patty, and Risa. She’d also added Hal and Emma to the list given their frequent visits, so she wasn’t surprised to see Hal on the other side of the peephole.