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I shrugged. “I don’t know. Something that shouldn’t be happening, anyway. Like maybe I’ll need to talk to the authorities, perhaps.”
“Something wrong like…crimes?” Wes glanced around, his eyes narrow as he looked at the remaining guests. “Anyone of these people could be a criminal? A suspect?”
I laughed softly as I swayed against him, bumping my shoulder to his upper arm. “Stop right there, Sherlock, I don’t know yet. I have to meet Charmaine first.”
* * *
I stepped backinto the only home I’d ever known, but there was an emptiness about it now that hadn’t been here before. As if the memorial service had brought about a change. An unwanted one. It marked some kind of border or boundary, after which Dad didn’t get to be here anymore.
Oh, it wasn’t that there were no memories of Dad.
His smell lingered everywhere, and none of his belongings had been packed away. His coat still hung on one of the hooks on the rack, and his oversized golf umbrella stood in a large ornamental vase over in the corner.
I could almost imagine that he might come bounding down the wide staircase to greet me the same way he had so many times before. But today, like all the days since his death, the stairs remained empty. The difference was in the sounds of hushed chatter that filtered through the ground floor instead.
Lilies perfumed the air. Funeral flowers. Messengers of death. I wrinkled my nose. I’d never liked them because of that.
Intellectually, I knew Dad wasn’t here, and his presence was truly gone. But something of his energy hung around the air. That was what evoked so many memories. I could hear him in my head, see the way he’d looked at me, and feel the way he’d tucked my hair behind my ear before he told me something important.
He was gone, yet my memories remained. And they assaulted me in this space. So much love welled up in me that it was hard to contain it, and I fumbled for Wes’s hand, needing to borrow the strength of my best friend just for a moment.
I dropped it again as a man I didn’t recognize approached me, but the way his eyes tracked to my side indicated he’d seen my movement.
He smiled, the expression oily and slick as he reached his hand out towards me. “Miss Everly, I’m Parker Montgomery, regional director of Gold Moon. Such a pleasure to meet you, but how unfortunate that it’s under such sad circumstances.” There was something false about his sympathy, and it left a layer of greasiness on my skin.
I swallowed, offering him the barest of handshakes. I’d need a shower immediately after touching this man, and all my senses were on high alert.
“I am really, truly sorry for your loss.” The man paused, though his eyes darted to the side before he continued. “And if I may, I have a message I think you need to hear as soon as possible. I know it’s not ideal timing, but I think your father would want me to make you aware of this information with some degree of urgency.”
I steeled myself against a shudder. Parker Montgomery didn’t seem like any kind of man who’d have known my father’s wishes.
He leaned toward me, and I fought not to recoil. “It’s about Charmaine Barnes.” His breath was warm and putrid as he whispered his words. “Your father was in the process of firing her, and I think you need to consider continuing that process. Joseph believed she’d proven herself unworthy.”
“I…” Shit. Two secret messages in one day. Really? I hadn’t even taken over yet.
Wesley stepped forward, his arm already outstretched before he grasped Parker’s hand in what looked like the world’s most uncomfortable handshake. Wes definitely dominated it, and Parker stretched his hand, extending his fingers as Wes let go.
“Mr. Montgomery,” Wes said. “I don’t think this is either the time or the place for business talk.” When Parker didn’t reply, he prompted him. “Do you?”
Eventually, Parker shook his head. He met my gaze, but a quiet rage seethed in the depths of his eyes. I couldn’t tell if that anger was meant for me or for Wes.
“Absolutely. Please do accept my sincere apologies, Miss Everly, and once again, my deepest condolences.” He skulked away, disappearing through the arched doorway leading to the main area. A whole spread of food had been laid out for those who wished to stay and remember.
“What was that all about?” Wes bent close to my ear as he asked the question.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “but if people are already asking me to fire Charmaine, perhaps her story’s plausible?”
He shrugged. “The only way you’re going to find out is by meeting her, right?”
I nodded. “Yep. But first I need to do a little mingling here and check on Mom.”
He nodded too. “Sounds like a plan. Then next stop, Clover’s.”
In the end, we stayed for about an hour. Wes was mostly at the food table. And then there was me, shaking more hands and instantly forgetting more names than I really cared to think about. As the last of the guests began to leave, and Mom was left with only her trusted circle, I slipped away.
Wes and I stood outside the front door, and I looked at my watch. Six pm.
“We’ll be early if we head straight to Clover’s.” It was a useless thing to say. Wes already knew that, most likely without checking his watch. He was probably aware of the position of the sun and the speed of the wind or something equally as nature-based. He was certainly more in tune with those kinds of things than I was.
