Don't Cry Over Killed Milk (14 page)

Exhausted and confounded by what he had observed, Damon drove to his duplex and dragged himself into bed.

Chapter 14

When Damon picked up Rebecca at nine-thirty on Saturday morning, a light drizzle was falling. Rebecca had accepted Damon’s invitation to accompany him to Jeremiah Milk’s funeral—she confessed that she was curious to see the other men and women he considered suspects.

Damon dressed in a black suit he inherited from his late father. Rebecca’s outfit was drab but appropriate for a rainy-day funeral.

Jeremiah’s body was laid to rest in an inexpensive, closed casket at the front of a large viewing room that was truncated by folding dividers. Damon could almost count the funeral attendees on his fingers. Other than himself, Rebecca, and the minister, the only other people in the room were Dottie Milk, the park employees apart from Emmanuel, Tripping Falls’ two regular Park Police officers, Gerry, Margaret Hobbes, and a woman in her late sixties—presumably Dottie’s sister.

Damon introduced Rebecca to Dottie who, after thanking her for coming, pointed them to a coffee urn. As they stood alone drinking bland java, Rebecca commented on the irony of serving coffee from an urn at a funeral home. Damon caught Gerry Sloman’s eye and exchanged nods with the detective. With Margaret Hobbes at Gerry’s side, Damon knew there would be no opportunity for them to speak with each other.

Instead, Damon and Rebecca made their way over to Veronica Maldive. Damon introduced Rebecca, who offered Veronica appropriate sympathies.

“Thank you for coming to the park the other day and asking me to see Dottie,” Veronica said to Damon. Her face was plastered in heavy make-up. “She’s a lovely woman.”

“You’re welcome,” Damon replied.

“Dottie told me that you were at Jeremiah’s house yesterday. She said you were looking for some records.”

“That’s true. Unfortunately, I didn’t find any papers that were helpful.”

“Were you able to get into the filing cabinet?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Damon said. He lowered his voice. “It was open. I’m sure the police found the keys somewhere.”

“What was inside? I don’t mean to pry, but….” She trailed off, blushing.

Damon answered graciously. “Just run-of-the-mill files—credit cards bills, that sort of thing. Your boyfriend was a meticulous record keeper.”

Veronica sighed. “I suppose Jeremiah never did come into money. It would’ve been nice for Dottie.”

Damon paused, then said, “Jeremiah did have quite a windfall, Veronica.” He provided a short narrative of his conversation with Glenda Atwater and then confided that Jeremiah had turned around and transferred the bulk of the money elsewhere.

“My goodness,” she said. Veronica’s eyes zoned out of focus for a moment. Damon imagined she was calculating the sum of Atwater money Jeremiah had left in his bank account.

“Veronica,” Damon said sharply. “Did Jeremiah ever mention RDF Corporation to you?”

She snapped out of her reverie and thought for a full fifteen seconds. “No, I don’t recognize that name at all. Is it important?”

“The police believe RDF is where Jeremiah transferred $1.6 million, but they can’t find out anything about it. I was looking for records in Jeremiah’s office that might shed some light on them.”

“I wish I knew,” she said and excused herself to meet with the minister, who was motioning to her.

“She seemed pretty interested in Jeremiah’s money,” Rebecca commented to Damon when they were alone.

“I suppose it’s only natural,” Damon said. “I know you’re interested in meeting some of Jeremiah’s other co-workers. Who else do you want to talk to?”

She leaned in close to Damon. “Even though I already met her, I want to speak with Aylin Erul and ask her about Lawrence Drake’s non-existent attic.”

Surveying the room to find Aylin, Damon’s eyes met Drake’s. The big man stared him down until Damon looked away. He shuddered, then spotted Aylin speaking with Alex Rancor, the park’s operations manager.

Damon and Rebecca walked over to the pair of women. Alex greeted Damon pleasantly and introduced herself to Rebecca. Aylin was silent.

“With all of you here, who’s running the park?” Damon asked.

“I asked Emmanuel to stay behind with a handful of our volunteers,” Alex said. “And we didn’t schedule any groups to come through this morning.” She looked at the two U.S. Park Police officers. “If I knew they were coming, I might have stayed at the park, too.”

After a minute of hackneyed conversation, Alex excused herself to use the restroom.

Damon looked at Aylin. She twitched nervously. “Why don’t Alex and the Park Police get along?” Damon asked.

A look of relief passed over Aylin’s face. She smiled. “Milt Verblanc told me they’ve been against each other since Alex started working at the park.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Alex likes to smoke marijuana. She doesn’t do it too often, but every once in a while you can smell it on her clothes. I think she smokes in the woods.”

“And the Park Police are sticklers?” Damon asked.

“Oh, yes. They catch hikers smoking quite often and arrest them. They’ve smelled it on Alex but have never been able to catch her in the act.”

“What about Emmanuel Alvarez?” Damon asked bluntly. “Doesn’t he smoke pot as well?”

“Yes, but the Park Police love him. That’s why they let him live in the cabin. Every so often, when one of the officers isn’t up for doing the overnight patrol, they ask Emmanuel to fill in. He complies without complaint. In return, they leave him alone. Besides, Emmanuel doesn’t represent the park in the same way as Alex. She and the rangers are the faces of Tripping Falls. So the Park Police feel she needs to have her head on straight at all times.”

“Aylin,” Rebecca cut in. “I heard some interesting news from the police.”

Anxiety returned to the female ranger’s face.

Rebecca continued. “We had to tell the police what you told us about Lawrence Drake. They checked his house. It doesn’t have an attic.”

“I know,” Aylin admitted and cast her gaze to the floor. “The police told me the same thing. They even made me come down to the station to make a statement. Lawrence gave one, too. He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

Aylin wrapped her arms around her body. “I’m scared of him. I told Alex that I refuse to go into the woods alone with Lawrence. In fact, I started looking for a new job yesterday.”

“So you didn’t lie to us?” Rebecca asked directly.

“No,” Aylin pleaded. “I just told you what he told me.”

The minister announced that the service was starting. Aylin excused herself to find a seat.

Rebecca whispered to Damon, “I don’t trust her. If she didn’t have an alibi, I’d be on her like white on rice.”

* * *

The service was brief. The minister spoke in generalities and was followed by Veronica and Dottie in turn. Both women had tears in their eyes when they spoke of Jeremiah.

All of the men present, including Damon, were asked to serve as pallbearers. Damon gripped a casket handle directly in front of Lawrence Drake. Damon could feel the man’s breath on the back of his neck as they paced to a hearse. After they loaded the casket, a procession of cars drove three miles to a nondescript cemetery. Gray sky matched rows of small block headstones. At the gravesite, the mourners huddled under umbrellas to ward off misty rain. But a biting sideways wind made it impossible to stay dry.

Damon and Rebecca were standing beside Milt Verblanc when the burial proceedings ended.

“Such a sad day,” Rebecca said to Milt as people began to disperse.

“Funerals are never fun,” he said to Rebecca. Then Milt noticed Damon. “Still nosing around, I see.”

“I’m here because Jeremiah’s mother asked me to come,” Damon retorted.

Milt held up a rain-soaked hand. “Sorry. If there’s a killer roaming the park at night, I want the lowlife caught and hung before he comes after somebody else. And I could care less whether the police collar him or you do.” Milt paused. “So let me give you my two cents.”

Damon took a deep breath. “What are your thoughts?”

“I don’t think he was killed by any of us,” Milt said.

“By ‘us,’ you mean his colleagues at the park?”

“Correct. I heard the killer blew the light socket on the main floor of the shed but not the one in the basement. As a robotics junkie, I can say that slicing through a live power cord took a certain amount of panache and knowledge of the fundamentals of electricity. It’s possible a person could figure it out by looking on the Internet, but it would take some planning and practice for a novice. Which means major premeditation.” Milt cupped a hand over his mouth and blew hot air into it.

“The only person at the park who would have that kind of knowledge without conducting research is me,” Verblanc said. “And I know that I didn’t do it.”

Damon was tempted to ask Milt about his alibi but held his tongue. He didn’t want to set the man against him. Instead, Damon asked, “What about Alex? I know she was in the Air Force. Any chance she was an engineer?”

Milt’s eyes sparked. “I hadn’t thought of that. Alex has an electrical engineering degree.” He paused. “But she told me she flew planes in the Air Force.”

Milt stepped away from Damon and Rebecca, stating that he was due back at the park. Rebecca said to Damon, “Just because she told Milt she flew planes doesn’t mean it’s true. For all we know, she could have designed electrical systems for the Air Force.”

“Or even if she did fly planes,” Damon said, “with an electrical engineering degree, she could have easily figured out how to blow that socket.”

“Let’s get out of here. I’m cold, wet, and starting to get the creeps.”

Only Dottie and Veronica remained. Damon and Rebecca offered last condolences and made their way to Damon’s Saab.

Just as they climbed inside, a black limousine slowed to a stop behind them. Alistair and Glenda Atwater emerged, followed by a statuesque couple and a teenage boy.

Matthew Katz-Atwater was a sullen-faced youth with pock-marked cheeks and an expensive haircut. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a black trench coat that was designed for an adult.

Damon cranked on the engine of the Saab and activated the windshield wipers. He and Rebecca watched the Atwater clan ward off the rain with massive umbrellas. They approached Dottie and Veronica. Stiff handshakes were exchanged, and the younger woman, presumably Glenda’s daughter Liliane, hugged Jeremiah’s mother and girlfriend. Five minutes later, the group broke up. Dottie and Veronica went to a car on the opposite side of the burial site from Damon’s Saab. The Atwaters walked back toward the waiting limousine. Glenda saw Damon and Rebecca through the Saab’s windshield and motioned for them to join the family.

Damon turned off his car. He and Rebecca exited and climbed inside the limo. Hot air blasted from the vents. The pair sat near the rear door and Alistair Atwater made introductions.

“Please join us in a toast to Jeremiah Milk, Mr. Lassard and Ms. Leeds,” Alistair said. He poured generous tumblers of scotch for the men, gin for the ladies, and sparkling juice for Matthew. Alistair raised his glass and praised Jeremiah Milk heartily. Matthew sat impassively while keeping his hands in his coat pockets. His drink remained untouched.

After perfunctory sips were taken, Rebecca faced Liliane and said, “This must be very difficult for your family.”

“It is,” Liliane replied. Her thin face was unnaturally tan and she wore a black pillbox hat with a pinned-back veil. “He helped Matthew and the rest of us through so much.”

Damon watched Matthew as Rebecca and Liliane continued their small talk. The teen’s facial expression didn’t waiver, but Damon had the distinct impression that he was willing the ordeal to end.

At a pause, Geoffrey Katz said to no one in particular, “I still can’t believe the man was murdered. He was so mellow. I can’t imagine him upsetting someone so much that it would lead to his death.”

Damon saw Matthew shiver.

“Who said he pissed someone off?” Alistair said to his son-in-law. “Maybe someone was after….” He cut himself short. Damon thought Alistair was going to say “after the money I gave him.” Perhaps the family hadn’t divulged to Matthew that they had compensated Jeremiah.

Damon took the silence as an opportunity to wish the family the best of luck, and then he and Rebecca escaped the suffocating heat of the limousine.

* * *