But she pasted on a suitably somber expression. “Thankyou. If you’ll let me know the exact day and time, I’ll check my schedule.” And make her excuses after finding something else to be doing then.
“I’ll pass that along as soon as all the arrangements are finalized. If would be nice if a few people who were acquainted with him attended.”
Which would be almost nobody beyond the people gathered in this room.
That’s why his passing was of little consequence—except it had given her plan a boost by illustrating the danger of living alone. Like, what if Natalie got hurt and no one found her for hours ... or days?
A thought she’d pass on as soon as she got the chance.
“Yes, it would. If you’re finished in the kitchen, I’ll clean in there now.”
“It’s all yours.”
She skirted the small group gathered in the hall and continued to the back of the house.
As she closed the door behind her, her phone began to vibrate. After pulling it out, she grimaced.
Randy again. Probably wanting to know if she’d set up an interview for him with Natalie yet.
That wasn’t a high priority.
The longer she could delay a meeting between the two of them, the longer it would be before Ashley got on his case again about kicking out his third-wheel sister so she could move in.
Lydia let the phone roll to voicemail. She’d deal with her brother later.
In the meantime, she’d have to consider spiking another half-empty bottle of wine with perhaps a lesser amount of Ambien. Just enough to keep Natalie off balance—literally.
As for the professor ... a few more hints about danger wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Because in truth, that danger might come to pass.
THIRTEEN
“THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD;I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.”
As Natalie read the twenty-third psalm, Cara looked out over the lake, where Brad sat in Micah’s boat, the biodegradable box of ashes resting on the seat beside him.
No one else had attended the simple ceremony.
No other human, anyway.
But on the far side of the lake, two deer stood unmoving, watching the proceedings. High above, a hawk circled, riding the wind currents. Closer by, tucked among the scrubby brush at the edge of the water, three raccoons huddled together. Rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks were also in attendance, all strangely motionless as Natalie finished the psalm and closed the book.
“And now we commend you to God, Micah Reeves, with gratitude for your service and your kindness. May your new life in the heavenly kingdom be filled with peace and love.”
At her signal, Brad set the box on the ripples and waited until it sank out of sight as the late-afternoon light gilded the lake.
While he rowed back, Cara bent down to Thumper’s cage, where it had rested beside her during the brief service. Sincethe vet had removed the splint and pronounced the bunny healed yesterday, Natalie had agreed it would be fitting to release it back to the wild at the end of the ceremony.
She opened the latch and lifted the door.
For a moment, the rabbit didn’t move. Then, inch by inch, it crept out of the cage. Sniffed the air. Hopped down to the lake. It paused there for a few seconds before disappearing in the tall grass and bounding toward the woods.
“I hope Micah is happy now. And healed.”
At Natalie’s tear-laced comment, Cara stood and placed an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure he is. I think God has a special love for gentle spirits who appreciate and nurture his creation.”
“A beautiful sentiment, my dear.” Natalie patted her hand.
