“It’s not like I could feel much worse than I already do,” Chan replies nonchalantly. “Besides, I need a distraction.”
“It’s not just the funeral though. The wake after is being held at the community hall Mrs Abernathy used to frequent and where she was most likely poisoned.”
“Oooh.” Chan’s eyes light up. “Then the murder suspect might be there!”
“It’s possible,” I muse. “But I’m totally staying out of it this time. Being shot at once was enough for me. I’m leaving the catching the killer part to Danny and his partner, Detective Wilkes. I’m just going to support Larry and hopefully figure out what Mrs Abernathy’s unfinished business is so I can get her packed straight into the light on next day delivery.”
“Oh come on, Tris!” Chan sits up. “We made such a good team last time.”
“We almost got killed last time,” I remind him.
“Pft.” He waves his hand dismissively. “That nutjob had the aim of an Imperial stormtrooper, I doubt she’d have hit either one of us. Besides, what are the actual chances of that happening again? It’s a community centre, it's full of pensioners.”
“Whoa. Hold up there, Jessica Fletcher. It’s not our job to run around randomly solving crimes.”
“Come on, Tris. Please?” He gives me his most appealing smile.
He’s perked up a bit since he first walked through the door, especially at the thought of playing junior detective, and I just don’t have it in me to burst his bubble.
“Urgh… fine.” I roll my eyes. “But only because I’m going to be late.” I stand up and pull my phone from my pocket to order an Uber.
“Yes!” Chan jumps to his feet. “This is just what I need as a distraction. We’ll figure out who the murderer is, just like a game of Cluedo but real life. I feel like I need a cover story… ooh, you could tell them I’m one of your colleagues at the mortuary. I can be Dr Chan. ”
“No,” I reply.
“But it’s my birthday,” he says winsomely, fluttering his eyelashes at me again.
“I feel like you’re enjoying this way too much, Dr Chan.” I sigh as I head toward the door with him following behind me triumphantly.
Larry was right, there are barely a handful of people scattered throughout the first couple of rows of the crematorium. The officiant drones on as he stands at the little podium to the side of Mrs Abernathy’s coffin, which is mounted on a platform and framed by heavy velvet curtains. They are the most unattractive shade of pink ever, a kind of mauve, the bastard child of pink and grey, and depressing as hell. We are supposed to be in a chapel of rest but all that colour is doing is making me more anxious.
I feel a strange prickling at the back of my neck and turn to look at the rows of empty seats behind me. There’s no one there, just sprays of plastic flowers mounted either side of the closed doors. I feel Danny’s hand on my thigh as he gives a comforting little squeeze, drawing my attention to him.
“Are you okay?” he whispers and I nod. “Tell me again what Chan is doing here?”
“He stopped by this morning and decided to tag along,” I say as quietly as possible. Danny raises a brow, possibly at my choice of pronoun as, like me, he’s only ever seen Chan looking very fem, but this isn’t really the time or place to explain.
Even though the officiant at the front is tied up in a rather long-winded soliloquy on God working in mysterious ways and how he called Mrs Abernathy home to walk in his light or something—I don’t know, I'm really not paying attention because in actual fact he hasn’t called her anywhere. She's still wandering around the chapel clutching her handbag in her bony hands and randomly staring at people.
“Decided to tag along?” Danny repeats slowly.
I shrug. “You know what they say, the more the merrier.”
“I’m not sure that applies to funerals.” Danny fights a smile.
Chan leans over and whispers in my ear. “Hey, what’s up with Barbara Cartland over there?” He nods toward the second row of seats on the opposite side of the room. “Is she having a stroke or something?”
I glance across to see Ivy, one of Mrs Abernathy’s friends from the community centre, fluttering her heavy fake lashes as she winks at Danny and puckers her neon pink lips. She’s wearing a lilac monstrosity of a dress with chiffon ruffles around the neck and wrists, and her hair is backcombed so high it makes her head look like a stick of candy floss.
“I think you’ve got an admirer.” Maddie elbows Danny in amusement from where she sits on the other side of him at the end of the pew, having also caught sight of Ivy’s interest.
Danny glances over and gives Ivy a strained smile, but I know I’m not imagining him sliding closer to me on the wooden bench.
Ivy’s eyes slide over to Maddie, giving the fiery red-haired detective a thorough appraisal before pouting sourly, and I wonder if she actually remembers Danny is not only gay but also my boyfriend.
My gaze tracks along the bench on the opposite side of the room, cataloguing the motley crew of potentially murderous old ladies, and I just can’t see it. They’re quirky, there’s no doubting that, but I just don’t think any of them would murder their friend. I mean, there doesn’t even seem to be a motive as far as I can tell.
Nope. Not my circus, not my monkeys. I’m here to support Larry and figure out Mrs Abernathy’s unfinished business. I am not getting drawn into another murder investigation. That’s my boyfriend’s department.
