I grinned at him. Jack was in a well-fitted, expensive-looking midnight-blue suit and a white shirt—no tie, open at the neck—and looked positively delicious. Probably an inappropriate thought on my part, considering where we were. Then again, all bets were off at a beer-themed memorial. I spotted a cooler in the corner filled with ice and cans of Pabst.
“At least it’s a closed casket,” I murmured.
We did a lap around the room and past the coffin. Vera had been correct; I noticed that several people stared at me as we meandered about. Most likely they were wondering where my sister was, or why I was there, considering my sister was a suspect.
We’d just finished our shuffle past the casket when I spotted Barbie. Today she was wearing a tasteful black jumpsuit, with clear Lucite heels. An interesting choice of footwear. She stood a few feet away and fluttered her fingers at me. Jack and I went to her, and she eyed him lustily. After a beat she turned to me and waggled her tongue. I ignored that.
“I’m so sorry, Barbie. My condolences.” I reached out to her.
She held her hand toward Jack. “Why, hello there. I’m Barbie. Oh, and hi, Maggie. Is this your...”
She fluttered her long eyelashes. Jack shook her hand and introduced himself. “I’m Maggie’s boyfriend.”
A laugh burst from my lips. Barbie didn’t notice.
“So that’s why you weren’t interested in that handsome officer. Now I understand,” she purred, then looked across the room. “Oh, dear. The service is going to start in fifteen minutes. The funeral home gentleman is calling me over. Jack, please come visit at Big Sugar. It’s on Main Street. You can try my cupcakes. I’ll make you a pink velvet. It’s my specialty.”
She swept away.
“That’s the widow? Why do I feel dirty, like I should take a shower?” A confused look was etched on Jack’s handsome face. He’d shaved off his stubble, and I couldn’t help but notice how soft the skin on his jaw looked.
“Yep. And there’s the detective.” My gaze lasered on Alex Holt, who was sitting in the last row, alone. There were at least ten rows of seats in this large room, and Holt was one of the only people sitting down. The rest mingled around the sides of the room and the casket. Probably everyone knew he was a cop, and since at least eighty percent of the people here likely had warrants or past brushes with the law, they were keeping a wide berth.
“You mean the handsome officer?” Jack teased.
“The officer who’s in control of Vera’s freedom. Let’s go talk to him.”
“Do you think that’s a good—”
I pulled Jack along by the wrist and we wound our way around several people wearing camouflage hunting gear. People had started to ignore the hushed, reverent atmosphere and were yukking it up, telling hilarious and bawdy stories about Gene. A few filtered words hit my ears.
He didn’t know the gun was loaded!
That time we went to the Pink Pony in Tampa...
Gene sure loved cheap whiskey. That’s why I brought a bottle.
I, too, needed a shower.
Alex was sitting in the middle of the empty row. Jack and I marched over and plopped down next to him.
He looked up from his phone. “Maggie Andrews, nice to see you again. Didn’t really expect you here. Is your sister here as well?”
“No, she had some business to take care of at the store.” It was the truth; Vera was waiting for our final book shipment.
Holt nodded and shifted his gaze to Jack.
“This is our tenant, Jack Bianchi. Jack, this is Alex Holt, the officer I was telling you about. I think both of you are the latest newcomers to town.”
Not including Bruce Doyle, the developer, of course. As Jack and Alex leaned over my lap to shake hands, I scanned the room for Doyle. He wasn’t here, as far as I could tell. It seemed unlikely that he would be, though. Other than the photo, there was no real connection between Doyle and Gene. Or perhaps there was, and I hadn’t yet found the link.
“If you don’t mind, Jack, I’d like to ask you a few questions about the day Gene died,” Alex said in a low voice. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“Want to do it now? Or should I come by the station?”
Alex nodded curtly. “Sure. Why don’t we go out in the hall? I’ll just need a few minutes and this isn’t going to start for a while, I don’t think.”
“I’ll save our seats,” I chirped, as if we were at a concert or something.