Escorted By The Ranger. C.J. Miller
squeezed her hands in his. “Worried about you. It’s a huge shock. I’ve been lying low and trying to process it. Do you know I’ve spoken with the police three times?”
“I’ve spoken to them, too,” Marissa said.
“I see you’ve acquired a sexy new bodyguard. Tell me you’re having an affair with him,” Ambrose said, looking over Marissa’s shoulder and lifting his eyebrows in interest.
Jack folded his arms across his chest. Though it was not likely his intention, his pumped biceps and forearms flexed beneath his suit jacket. The position was enticing and made her think irrational thoughts, like about running her hand along his arm.
“Of course I’m not,” Marissa said.
“Disappointing,” Ambrose said.
Conversation became impossible as Michael’s band—the current formation calling themselves Silver Sundays—began a song. The lyrics, while not specifically using Avery’s name, were about a beautiful woman whose life was cut short, but who lived forever in roses. They could have played a traditional song or a religious song. Marissa had a hard time keeping her composure through the poignant lyrics. She took a deep breath.
Jack took a step closer. Marissa didn’t lean on him, but they were standing close enough that the fabric of her dress brushed his pants leg. Reaching for his hand wouldn’t be appropriate. Instead, she clasped her hands together in front of her.
When the song ended, Avery’s mother joined Silver Sundays on the stage and spoke about her daughter. Her voice broke several times as she delivered a loving tribute. “And now, I have asked Avery’s friend Father Franklin to pray with us.”
Father Franklin, the rector at an Episcopalian church in midtown, walked onto the stage. It had been years since Marissa had spoken to him. He hadn’t changed much, though he was carrying a few extra pounds around the middle and his hair was grayer than it had been. His skin was dark from the sun and his deep set eyes warm and welcoming. People felt at ease around Father Franklin, making his church one of the most popular in his neighborhood.
Marissa had introduced Avery and Father Franklin years before when Avery had needed someone to speak to whom she could trust. Marissa hadn’t realized that Avery had kept the relationship going. Avery had been better at keeping people in her life, at least, everyone except Marissa. It was Marissa who had trouble holding on to relationships.
After his heartfelt prayers, Father Franklin stepped away and Avery’s mother again addressed the crowd.
“Avery has a few friends who wanted to speak about her. Marissa? Are you here?”
Heads turned in her direction. She didn’t know how many people knew about her falling out with Avery. It had run through the rumor mill. Marissa was angry with herself for not patching things up with Avery sooner.
Then she was standing on the stage. She hadn’t been aware she had walked up the three steps, the maroon carpet soft under her shoes. A few hundred eyes on her, including Jack’s. He was standing to her left off stage, glancing at her and looking around the room. If he wasn’t there, she might have fallen apart.
Michael was behind her and he moved closer, standing to her right, his guitar slung around his shoulder and resting on his hip. He was watching and waiting. Though they had two feet of space between them, she felt his support. This was their first face-to-face meeting in years and she was surprised he was being friendly.
Putting aside thoughts of Michael and of Jack, she focused on the reason she was here, to honor her friend. Marissa spoke about Avery. She spoke of her love of fashion, her creativity and her contributions to the community. Avery had guest lectured at a few of Ambrose’s college courses over the last two years, giving his fashion students her perspective on the topic. Marissa’s throat was tight, but she finished her tribute.
She walked away from the microphone and a few others spoke about Avery. Then Avery’s mother invited everyone to enjoy the celebration of Avery’s life. With that, Silver Sundays began playing.
Marissa looked again at the photos of Avery. Jack was behind her, and she turned, took a couple of steps back and slid her arm around his. “I’m glad I’m not here alone.” A shudder piped over her having him close.
She scanned the room for Father Franklin, eager to introduce Jack to him. Father Franklin had filled a father figure role in her youth and having him meet Jack seemed important. In the crowd, she didn’t see him and disappointment tumbled over her. This wasn’t his church. He could have left already.
“I’m glad I could be here for you,” Jack said.
She was especially glad a few minutes later when her most recent ex, Rob, approached. The man who might have been responsible for Avery’s death and partially responsible for their fallout. His suit was impeccable and his brown hair slicked back. Dark circles rimmed his eyes. He was clean-shaven and had a strong jawline and aristocratic nose. In his younger years, he had modeled for clothing catalogs, but now he worked for his father’s real estate company. Confident to the point of arrogant, Rob was sweet when he wanted to be and viperous when he didn’t get his way.
“Can we talk?” he asked, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. His stance was casual, but Marissa read the intensity in his eyes.
She had zero interest in talking to him. He had pointed the police in her direction, as if she could have killed Avery. Having a brawl now, in this space, was in poor taste. “This isn’t a good time. I just want to say goodbye to my friend,” Marissa said. Blowing him off was the high road. Tearing into him, the low one.
“Will there be another time?” Rob asked.
“I’m not sure what we have to say to each other. You told the police that I could be involved.”
Rob appeared flummoxed. “I was out of my mind with grief. I said a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have. I knew you were pissed at her and I was listing people who held a grudge against Avery. When my lawyer arrived, he shut me up.”
Marissa considered walking away, but she was curious what Rob had to say.
Rob rocked back on his heels. “I’ve been thinking about what could have happened and who could have done this. Avery was secretive. She was hiding something.”
Marissa hadn’t known Avery to hold back. Bluntness and honesty were two of the traits she had liked most about her friend. It was why it had been so hard when Avery had lied to her about Rob and hidden their relationship. “What do you think she was hiding?”
“I don’t know. Avery didn’t answer her phone. She didn’t return messages. When I asked what was bothering her, she was evasive.”
Had Avery been dating someone else? “Which makes you believe what about Avery?” Marissa asked. If he had a suspicion, he needed to be direct. Avery was busy and in demand. None of his observations sounded strange.
“I don’t know exactly. But it’s a sense I had,” Rob said.
“Did you mention this to the police?” Jack asked.
Rob shook his head. “I didn’t have anything concrete to tell them. I didn’t know what she could be hiding. But you knew her. Did you get the sense she was lying to you, at least, lying by omission?”
“You mean, when she was sleeping with you?” Why dance around the truth? Avery hadn’t acted any differently around Rob or Marissa. The affair had been well hidden.
“That wasn’t going on for that long. It was a slow build. When we started, it just happened. You were in Barcelona—”
Marissa held up her hand. “I don’t need the details. Just think before you talk, Rob.”
“I’m doing my best. I’m barely holding it together,” Rob said.
If he wanted sympathy, he was barking up the wrong tree.
“I want to know what happened to Avery,