Eggs Benedict Arnold (23 page)

“
Excuse me,
”
said Suzanne,
“
this is not...
”

“
Quiet!
”
snapped Sheriff Burney.
“
I
’
ll do the talking.
”

“
How deep in doo-doo would you say we are?
”
whis
pered Toni, her hands extended up over her head.

Suzanne managed a quick glance around.
“
We got a dead body swinging from a tree and the two of us goofs standing right next to it,
”
she whispered back.
“
I
’
d say we
’
re in way over our heads.
”

And still the excitement continued as
another
siren wailed and a fourth vehicle, blue and red light bars pulsing like mad, roared up to join their little circle of Dante
’
s Hell.

But this time, Suzanne and Toni caught a small break. Because the new arrival was Sheriff Roy Doogie. He
climbed from his cruiser, hitched at his pants, and scowled
ferociously at them.

“
We got a homicide here,
”
Sheriff Burney called to Sheriff Doogie. Burney was a by-the-book kind of guy.
Tall, rail thin, a former marine drill sergeant.

“
Dang!
”
yelled Doogie. He snatched his hat from his head and threw it to me ground.
“
Dang!
”
he shouted again.

“
What?
”
called Burney.
“
What?
”

“
They ain
’
t your killers,
”
cried Doogie.
‘
They
’
re just
pain-in-the-butt pests!
”

Suzanne and Toni were given a chance to explain them
selves, of course. And then were given a lecture that fairly
scalded their ears. They knew all the fiery words, of course;
they weren
’
t complete innocents. But they
’
d never heard
them strung together in the context of such barbarous, blis
tering prose!

Chapter fourteen

Wednesday
morning dawned overcast and gray. Wind stripped yellow and gold leaves from trees and sent them swirling, in miniature tornadic clouds, down the
blacktopped streets of Kindred. To add insult to injury, rain
spat down in icy little pellets. It was the kind of weather that set the stage perfectly for Ozzie Driesden
’
s funeral.

Suzanne, Toni, and Petra were huddled in the back of
Hope Church, whispering among themselves. Obviously,
Suzanne and Toni
’
s big adventure last night was their topic
du jour.

“
I can
’
t believe you actually found Bo Becker
’
s body!
”
breathed
Petra. She was stunned and a little taken aback
by their crazy confession.
“
I mean . .. what were you two
doing
out there? What on earth were you
thinking
?
”

“
Jeez,
”
said Toni, glancing at the conservatively attired mourners, then buttoning the top button of her black cow
boy shirt,
“
we were just on a cheese run.
”

“
That escalated into a harebrained plan,
”
admitted Suzanne.

“
And ended in a complete debacle,
”
scolded Petra, gaz
ing from one to the other.

“
You know, it was really Junior
’
s fault,
”
said Toni, look
ing studiously innocent.

“
How do you figure that?
”
asked Suzanne. They
’
d both been complicit in their urge to snoop, hadn
’
t they?

“
If Junior hadn
’
t traded cars with me,
”
said Toni,
“
we
’
d never have had access to that police scanner.
”
She gave a sharp nod of her head and her frizzled, pinned-up hair bobbed in silent indignation.

‘
That
’
s bordering on situational ethics,
”
said Petra.

“
No,
”
said Suzanne,
“
what happened was
...
we were
just plain stupid last night. And morbidly curious.
”

“
Speaking of morbid, my friends,
”
said Petra, dropping
her voice.
“
We
’
d better go in and take our seats. Ozzie
’
s funeral will be starting soon.
”

Glancing out the double doors of the church, Suzanne saw a long, black hearse glide to a stop. It bore a discreet Driesden and Draper crest-shaped logo etched on the side window.
“
Since our guest of honor has just arrived,
”
she told them.

“
Oh you,
”
fluttered Petra.
“
Please be serious ... for once.
”

Suzanne
decided that Ozzie
’
s funeral ranked about a
seven out of ten possible points as funerals go. There was a full house, of course, with a few curiosity seekers shuffling
around in the back of the church. So all the mourners from
last night and then some.

The flowers and decor were quite lovely. A large cross
made out of white mums and red roses with a lemon leaf
border stood behind Ozzie
’
s gunmetal gray coffin. A casket
spray of gladiolas and carnations sat on top. Black velvet bunting was draped across the front pews.

Eulogies were delivered by several of Kindred
’
s more prominent citizens, including Mayor Mobley.

Mobley, dressed
in a black suit that wouldn
’
t quite button, came across as upbeat mixed with his own brand of greasy charm. He spoke about Ozzie
’
s many contributions to the community, then went on to talk about vigilant law enforcement and seeking final justice in what was certainly a wrongful death. Suzanne knew Sheriff Doogie was in the
audience
. Was he squirming at Mobley
’
s pointed words? Had to be.

But the best eulogy of all was rendered by Reverend
Strait. He spoke gently of Ozzie
’
s kindness in shepherding so many people through their hour of grief. Of his dedica
tion to the community. Then finished with, what Suzanne
decided, was the perfect line pulled from Emily Dickinson:
Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for
me. The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.

These final words elicited great, gasping sobs from Missy, who was seated in the third row from the front. Her ex, Earl Stensrud, sat beside her, comforting her. But his comfort seemed to extend to a few genial pats on her shoulder.

Then George Draper and two assistants in somber black
suits seesawed Ozzie
’
s coffin and pointed it, feet first, down
the center aisle. There was a subdued rumble as everyone
rose to their feet, then the organist chimed in with a slightly
off-key version of Eric Clapton
’
s
“
Tears in Heaven.
”

Suzanne brushed tears from her eyes as Ozzie
’
s coffin rolled past her on squeaky wheels. Then came a stolid-
looking man who had to be Ozzie
’
s brother, a small entou
rage of hastily summoned relatives, and Missy and Earl.

Glancing at Toni and Petra, Suzanne noticed that Petra
was wiping her eyes with a white hanky while Toni picked
a bit of lint from her shirt. Then again, Suzanne reminded herself, Toni had yet to experience the death of
someone close to her.

Hadn
’
t felt that iron band of grief close around her heart in a way that felt like it would never loosen. Hadn
’
t experienced the dreams that haunted and taunted.

Then Toni surprised her by sniffling loudly.
‘
That was so sad,
”
she said. The three of them sat there numbly,
watching the rest of the mourners file past.

Petra nodded.
“
I feel just awful for Ozzie
’
s brother.
What must he think of our town? That something this hor
rible could happen to his only brother?
”

“
You can bet he
’
s heard about last night, too,
”
said Toni.
She gave a quizzical look.
“
Don
’
t you guys find it awfully strange that two people from the same funeral home were murdered?
”

“
I hadn
’
t thought of it that way,
”
said Petra.
“
But you
’
re
right. It is an odd coincidence.
”

“
Maybe not a coincidence at all,
”
said Suzanne.

Once
everyone was milling about outside the church, Suzanne looked around for Sheriff Doogie. And saw him clumping toward his cruiser.

“
I
’
ll be right back,
”
she told Toni and Petra, then scurried after him.

“
Now what do you want?
”
asked Doogie when he caught
sight of her. He had his hand on his car door, looking like he
’
d been hoping for a clean getaway.

“
About last night...
”
began Suzanne.

“
You and your friend are in serious trouble concerning
that,
”
came Doogie
’
s stern warning.
“
Charges could be filed.
”

“
We didn
’
t do anything wrong,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Interfering with the law ...
”

“
Stumbling across a dead body is hardly interfering,
”
said Suzanne.
“
It
’
s just... bad luck.
”

“
Bad luck and trouble seem to follow you around,
”
snarled Doogie.

Suzanne backed off then, hoping to deflect some of
Doogie
’
s anger and get to the point where she could ask
him some serious questions.
“
I
’
m sorry about that,
”
she
said.
“
We really didn
’
t mean to get in the way.
”