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“Vera! He’s right over there.” Miss Dotty pointed over to the small seating area where Bert and several other men were congregating. “What if he hears you?”
“So what?” Miss Vera eyed Bert for a moment too long. “I made it clear I was interested in him at the auction, it’s no secret. Look, there’s Francine!”
Grant turned in time to see Miss Francine come down the line from the visitation room and meet up with her partners in crime.
“I finally got the flowers situated inside. I’m near outta breath.” Miss Francine ran her hand over her immaculately styled red-gold hair. “There were quite a few arrangements for this one. I’m pleased.”
Dotty chuckled. “Not as pleased as Vera is.”
“The body is barely cold,” Miss Francine muttered, looking at Miss Vera with a sour expression drawing down her withered lips.
“It’s not like Bert and Estelle were serious. At the most, they were together a week. What do you say the proper waiting period is for something like this?”
Grant heard Miss Francine groan and he felt the same way. He wished this line would move faster. Hopefully once they reached the room with the family, this discussion would stop.
“I don’t think Emily Post covered that topic in her etiquette books.”
Saved at last, Blake and Simon arrived and joined him in line. “Thank God you’re here,” Grant said.
“Afraid of seeing a dead body alone?” Simon taunted.
“I’ve seen it. I responded to the call. I just need a distraction,” he said, gesturing discreetly to the trio of women in front of them.
Blake briefly eyeballed the hens and nodded. “Everyone is talking about it. Even the ladies in the administration office this morning were going on about the salacious details.”
Simon sighed. “I’m sorry someone had to die, but I’m thankful to have everyone talking about something else for a change. I’m tired of discussing the peeper case and how we haven’t caught him yet. People seem to think we should just be randomly arresting people.”
“Any breaks?” Grant asked.
Simon’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. It looked like a no, but he could tell it was a “yes, but I can’t tell you that.” Grant opted not to push the line of conversation since they were finally entering the visitation room.
Estelle’s pearly-white coffin came into view at the far end of the room. The lower portion was closed and covered in a spray of pink and yellow carnations. Estelle’s family was gathered around it. Her oldest child, Robin, was unmarried and standing by herself just before the casket. Just past it was Robin’s brother and his wife with a restless four-year-old, but the feet between them could’ve been miles. Both her children were totally focused on the people coming in, not looking or even acknowledging each other. Apparently the familial battle over Estelle’s things had already begun.
There were still about fifteen people ahead of them, so the brothers waited quietly for their turn. That’s when Grant saw Miss Francine lean over to Miss Vera and mutter under her breath, “. . . too cheap for roses . . . Perhaps if she hadn’t paid seven grand to get laid, they could afford a proper casket cover.”
Grant winced and tried to focus on admiring the floral arrangements lining the wall. He nudged Blake when he came across one from their family. “These are ours,” he said. The large standing spray had white roses and lilies with a white bow. It was pretty enough. He wasn’t much of a connoisseur of flowers.
“As much as I complain about the Chamberlains, at least they paid for a respectable spray,” Miss Francine continued as though three of them weren’t directly behind her. “It’s pretty sad when strangers are willing to pay more than the deceased’s own family.”
“Francine!” Miss Vera chastised in a hoarse whisper.
“It’s true. It’s Robin’s doing, I’m sure of it. Estelle bought a nice rose casket cover when Clyde died. Her daughter is just going through the motions, trying to squeeze every penny she can out of this. I bet you they have that bakery up for sale by the end of the week. Robin doesn’t want anything to do with it and neither does her brother. They just want the money. Once she gets it, I bet she’ll leave this town for good. You just wait.”
That was something Grant hadn’t considered. His sister Maddie was Estelle’s only employee. The shop had been closed since Estelle’s death, but if it didn’t reopen, what would Maddie do? She’d just bought a house downtown near the bakery. She’d have to move back home if she didn’t pick up another baking job. The only other option in Rosewood was the grocery store bakery. Maddie would never, ever stand for that. She was French-trained and too good for the Piggly Wiggly, at least in her own eyes.
“Maybe the Chamberlains will buy it and let their oldest girl run it. You know I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Maddie bakes a better lemon cake than Estelle ever did, bless her heart.” Moving up, Vera, Dotty, and Francine approached Robin, and a moment later, Grant and his brothers reached the family.
He focused on giving his condolences to Robin, stopping by the body only long enough to keep from blocking someone taking a picture of Estelle. Once they were done, he moved quickly to her brother. They circled around the room and back out the door into the lobby. There, Grant took a relieved breath and started tugging down his tie.
“Are you going to the funeral?” Blake asked once they stepped out into the parking lot.
“No. I’ll be working until six.”
“Lucky bastard,” Simon groaned. Apparently this was his day off and he had no excuses.
“Quit complaining. The service will be short and when it’s over, they’re having a dinner at First Baptist. You’ll have enough fried chicken and banana pudding to make up for it.”
Blake slapped Simon on the back. “The banana pudding is worth it. I hear Miss Vera is baking a batch from scratch. Based on what I just overheard, it seems like more of a celebratory gesture than a sympathetic one.”
