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Emmy Lu snorted and bent over the case to put two chocolate donuts in a bag. “She’s not grieving if you ask me. I think she’s feeling guilty. Jimmy Martin is the manager over at Stromboli’s and I heard it straight from his lips that Norma was berating Richard up one side and down the other because he forgot their anniversary. Jimmy said Richard looked straight at Norma, told her to shut up, and then fell face-first in his tiramisu. Didn’t even get to finish it first before he died.”
I grinned and poured coffee from a carafe into an insulated cup and was liberal with the cream and sugar to ease the bitterness.
“The pool of potential male candidates on Tinder in King George can’t be many,” I said. “Norma will run out of choices eventually. In the meantime, we’ve got Bruce Lichner and Merilee Walling to bury in a watery grave this weekend. And all their friends and family can stand graveside and be miserable with them.”
Emmy Lu shivered. “Fifty dollars says there’s twice as many people who show up after the service for the casseroles and dessert bar.”
“That’s a sucker’s bet,” I said.
Tom poked his head from around back and said, “Morning, J.J. Just pulling a fresh batch from the ovens. You got here just in time before the rush.”
Emmy Lu met my eyes and her brows rose to her hairline, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Everything she was thinking was written right across her face. Emmy Lu was a terrible poker player.
“Take your time coming in this morning,” I told her. “The schedule is clear until this afternoon when we have to start prepping for viewings.”
Emmy Lu clucked her tongue and said, “If you ask me, digging watery graves is going to be the least of our problems this weekend. It’s Friday the thirteenth and a full moon.”
I shuddered and said, “I hate full moons. I thought it was bad when I worked at the hospital, but I had some of my most interesting patients show up when there was a full moon. Like the guy who accidentally shot himself in the head with his nail gun.”
Emmy Lu snickered and bit into her own donut.
“Drove himself to the hospital and was sitting in the waiting room bold as you please next to a kid who’d broken his arm jumping off his roof and into a swimming pool. But full moons are a whole different animal now that I’m the coroner. Generally full moon bad decisions end with a body bag instead of an nail extraction and a cast.”
“Well, good luck,” Emmy Lu said. “I’ll either see you at the office this afternoon or sometime next week.”
I paid and said my goodbyes, having every intention of heading over to the sheriff’s office to see if I could bum a Lady Jane’s donut from the breakroom, but my phone rang before I could step foot in that direction.
“Graves,” I said, recognizing the number from dispatch.
“You’ve got a body at 1822 Monastery Court in Bloody Mary,” Barbara Blanton said. “Sheriff is already on scene and requesting the coroner.”
“I’m about ten minutes out,” I said and disconnected before I got stuck on the phone with Barbara. If you wanted to know anything about anyone, Barbara was the person to see. Most of the time it was the truth too.
I looked up at the sky again and swore under my breath as a low rumble of thunder vibrated the air around me. I took back my earlier sentiment about there being peace in routine. If I’d had the sense that God gave a goose I’d have taken one look at the sky and driven in my car to get donuts and coffee. That same goose sense probably would have taken me straight to Lady Jane’s instead of clear across the other side of the Towne Square.
“You okay, Doc?” asked a familiar voice.
A patrol car had pulled right in front of me and I’d been so busy condemning my bad decisions that I hadn’t even noticed. Officer Chen sat behind the wheel of her black-and-white and the look on her face made me wonder how long she’d been trying to get my attention.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just regretting some life choices.”
She looked at the Donut Palace coffee and bag of donuts in my hand and nodded sympathetically. “We’ve all been there.”
“I just got the call for the body pickup on Monastery Court,” I said. “My car is at the funeral home.”
“Oh,” she said, realizing I’d been full of a myriad of bad life choices that morning. “Hop in. I can swing you by. I heard it was a real doozy.”
“Homicide?” I asked.
“Don’t know the details,” she said, shrugging. “But I’d take your boots. I heard it was real messy.”
“Lovely,” I said.
“You should eat a donut. You’re going to need some fortification.” She looked at my donut bag again. “Of course, it’s times like these you need real sugar. Or maybe a cream-filled.”
I sighed dejectedly and said, “You’re right.” Then I tossed the coffee and donut bag into the nearest trash can before I got in the patrol car.
Chapter Two
