A Catered Valentine's Day. Isis Crawford
to accept his entire family as clients?” Sean asked.
“In a word, yes,” Bernie said. She turned to Libby. “Isn’t that right?”
Libby flashed her a grateful look.
“And mom would have agreed with me if she were here,” Bernie continued.
“That is a low blow.”
“But a true one,” Bernie said. “Anyway, don’t you want to find out some answers? Aren’t you just a little bit curious to figure this out?”
“Not really,” Sean told her.
Bernie snorted.
Clyde looked up from finishing off his third lemon bar. “They have you, Chief. Admit it.”
“Fine,” Sean said grudgingly.
Libby laughed. So did Sean. He didn’t know what he’d do without his daughters. He really didn’t. He drummed his fingers on the arms of his wheelchair while he thought over what Bernie and Libby had told him. He knew they were right. He just hated to give in. Rose had always said that pride was his besetting sin, and she was correct.
The trouble was, he’d never liked Clayton when he was chief of police in Longely, and he liked him even less now. The man was—what was Bernie’s word? Smarmy. Yes. That was it. The man was smarmy. He made his flesh crawl, and it wasn’t because of what he did, either. It was because of what he was. But when a man needs your help, he needs your help and you got to give it to him—even when you’d rather not.
“Okay,” he said. “Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”
Libby got up and hugged him. So did Bernie.
“That’s enough,” he said, pushing them both away. He didn’t want them to think he was getting soft in his old age, even though he always had been when it came to them. And didn’t they just know it?
Sean watched Clyde lean forward as his daughters began to speak. He knew that if he missed anything, Clyde would pick it up.
“There isn’t much to tell,” Bernie said. “Like I said, a Ms. McDougal was supposed to be buried in that grave and she’s not. Ted Gorman is.”
Sean took another sip of his tea and set the cup down on the saucer. He liked plain old Lipton’s better, but he’d never tell Libby that, not when she was so proud that she was serving him the best. He noticed that his hand was shaking slightly, the way it always did these days. But, he reminded himself, it wasn’t as bad as it had been when he first got sick.
“Ted Gorman’s funeral was three weeks ago, wasn’t it?” he asked Bernie and Libby.
“Almost four,” Libby corrected.
“That’s right.” Sean shook his head. Three years ago he wouldn’t have made that mistake. “If I recall correctly, they couldn’t identify the body.”
“That’s correct,” Clyde said. “According to the reports, Ted Gorman was burned beyond recognition. He wrapped his BMW around a tree and it went up in flames. Not much left of him or the car.”
Bernie cut in. “So you can see why I was a little surprised to see him lying there in his jeans and Harley Davidson T-shirt.”
“I certainly would have been,” Clyde said.
Sean brushed a crumb off his lap. “The story got a big play in the local paper.”
“And on TV,” Clyde added. “The media were all over it.”
“I can imagine,” Sean said. And he could.
“His wife had to ID him through his class ring,” Clyde continued. He turned to Bernie and Libby. “You’re positive that was Ted Gorman you saw lying there in the coffin?”
“Positive,” Bernie said.
“I think it was,” Libby said. “Honestly I was so upset I can’t be sure.”
Sean stroked his chin. “Because if Bernie’s right, we definitely have a problem.”
“Several,” Clyde corrected. “We have several problems.”
Chapter 5
Everyone in the room was silent for a moment.
Finally Bernie said, “I don’t know how Clayton expects to keep this quiet.”
Clyde took a sip of his tea and put the cup on the table. “You’d be surprised,” he observed. “He and Miss Lucy are the best of friends. There’ll be an investigation, but it’ll be very discreet. “
Sean smiled. Miss Lucy was Clyde’s nickname for the Longely chief of police.
“Then why does Clayton want us to look into this?” Libby demanded.
Sean shrugged. “That’s easy. Because we can go places and say things that the police can’t.”
Clyde tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “How old…” He stopped and started again. “From what you observed…”
Bernie rescued him. “Do I think Ted Gorman has been dead for a while?”
Clyde nodded in gratitude. “Exactly.”
Bernie thought for a moment. “I’ve never seen someone whose been dead for a while, but Gorman looked okay to me.” She turned to her dad. “I mean I’d notice, right?”
“You certainly would,” Sean told her. He didn’t feel it was necessary to go into all the details of decomposing bodies.
Clyde snagged the last lemon square. “So the question is, where has Ted Gorman been all this time?”
“And who died in the car crash?” Sean added.
Libby leaned forward. “How about Ms. McDougal?”
Sean shook his head. “I looked up the obit on line. She died several weeks before.”
“Then where is she?” Libby demanded.
“I wish I knew,” Sean said.
Libby began fidgeting with the hem of his blouse. “This is going to be a shock for Marnie, Ted’s wife,” she said.
“For sure,” Bernie said.
“Do you know how she’s doing?” Sean asked.
“She’s still running the store,” Libby replied. “They closed Just Chocolate for two days.”
“That’s what you did when Mom died,” Bernie pointed out.
“I was afraid to lose the business. You’re not around and people go elsewhere. Marnie must have felt that too.”
“Retail is tough,” Sean heard himself say.
Libby nodded. “The store opens no matter what.”
This was true, Sean thought. In that way it was harder than being a police officer. “So how much are we being paid for taking on the case?” he asked.
Sean watched Libby’s expression. Her lips were turned down. He felt bad he’d asked.
“I didn’t ask for any money,” she stammered.
“I didn’t either,” Bernie chimed in. “It didn’t seem right.”
“But Clayton has money,” Sean pointed out. “Lots of money.”
Libby reached up and fixed the doodad that was holding her hair in place.
“Not really,” she said. “Marvin says he’s way overextended.”
Bernie chewed on her cheek. “Rapid growth will do that to you. Did you know that funeral homes are one of the most rapidly growing businesses in America right now? They—”