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“Look, I don’t know what you want, Terry Jane, but you better leave me alone. Do you understand? The nerve of you, calling after all these years. Let me guess, you’re in trouble again? Well, you’ve come crying to the wrong mark. I won’t be fooled by you again. And I’m a married man,” Ron said in rapid fire, like he’d been waiting to say this for years. He sounded anything but pleasant.
I suppose I do know why I was put through to him. I pretended to be Tish. I clear my throat. “Actually, Dr.Pleasant, my name is Ashlyn, and I’m calling because I think Terry Jane hurt my dad. Like she hurt you, only worse.”
I hear a big sigh. “Damn it. I finally got over that woman, and I don’t want to hear her name again.”
“She married my dad, and now my dad’s dead,” I say, and tears spring to my eyes. “I really need your help. You were married to her, too. Did she try to hurt you? Please help me. I miss my dad, so much.”
“I’m sorry, I am. And I’m sorry your dad had anything to do with her. She met me, married me, I fixed her teeth, gave her a place to stay, new clothes to wear, and then one day she was gone. No note. Nothing. She didn’t hurt me physically, but emotionally and monetarily, I was a mess for a long time.”
“That stinks,” I say.
“Sounds like I might have gotten off easy,” he says.
“You didn’t ask her for a divorce,” I am speaking through sobs. I can’t help it. I’m mad and sad all rolled into one. “That’s what she said. She told me you left her. I felt sorry for her.”
“No. It’s the other way around. I had to get the court to give me an annulment. She just left,” he says. The sadness in his voice matches mine, but the anger doesn’t. Mine’s more visceral, more raw. “I wish I could help you. But I can’t. My advice. Stay far away from her.”
I finish the rest of the drive to the cemetery wiping tears away. I’m mad at myself for falling for Tish’s lies. And I’m mad at my dad for falling for her, too.
I park and look around. It’s surprising how few cars are here. I make my way across the parking lot, my flats crunch on the gravel path leading up to the ornate mausoleum. Stained glass windows and heavy, dark wood architecture give the outside of the building a somber, church-like feel. If it was dark outside, I’d be freaked out.
I open the door to the creepy place where my dad will be buried and walk inside. Tish stands up front with a ghostly white guy. Behind her are drawers full of dead people, including my grandparents. I almost turn around. I feel sick.
Tish spots me first. “Ashlyn, darling, come in.”
The first thing I think is she’s wearing brown when she should be wearing black. The second thing I think is why did she cremate my dad. He has a drawer reserved. One of those right behind her. His whole body would have fit just fine.
“Can I talk to you? Alone?” I ask.
Ghoulish mortuary worker nods and disappears.
“How are you holding up? I thought maybe we could do some retail therapy after this?” Tish says. Her eyes sparkle. I don’t know if she’s serious or just messing with me. Or, worse, is she a psycho?
“Why did you cremate Dad?” I ask.
“We’ve been over this. It’s environmentally sound.”
“Why didn’t you bring his body here? Have them do it?” I ask. “It all seems rushed.”
“Well, it was rushed. Someone called the coroner’s office in Colorado and told them your dad was a big shot, so they expedited the death certificate. It was such a hectic time it didn’t matter to me who made it happen. I remember they thought I called. It was weird, but whatever,” she says. She picks up a photo of the three of us and shows it to me. We’re at Atlantis in the Bahamas. “This was fun, remember?”
“You didn’t expedite it?” I ask, my heart beating faster.
“Nope. Not me.”
The heavy door to the mausoleum opens with a moan. We both turn around. It’s my mom.
CHAPTER 29
KATE
Bob pulls the thick wooden door open, and I step inside.
There’s no crowd like I expected. The whole place is empty except for Tish, standing up front where the minister should be, wearing a ridiculously tight brown dress. Ashlyn sits in the front row. Rows of empty chairs face the wall of “drawers” where the deceased reside. I notice our two slots,John NelsonandKate Nelsonlabeled in gleaming bronze, side by side. My blood runs cold as I focus on Tish.
“Where are all the people?” I ask. This is an important moment in the history of the city, certainly in the history of one of its most successful companies. This should be a state funeral, a moment to refocus everyone on the new head of the company. I feel my speech in my pocket. “Why is no one here? Where is the mayor?”
Beside me, Bob shifts. “Not invited. It’s private. Per Tish. It wasn’t even announced in the paper. I only know because I still control some of John’s affairs.”
