The Porn Identity

Chapter 12

       To my supreme disappointment David didn't drive to his evil lair to confess to me he was the murderer. Instead, when he pulled off into traffic, he fell in line behind the damn funeral procession. I didn't even notice until we'd pulled into traffic and drove about half a mile at 30mph in a 45mph zone.

       Enduring more sad funeral faire was distressing but maybe I could still talk to David at the gravesite. After a drive that felt like hours, we finally pulled into Evergreen Memorial Park, one of the larger cemeteries in the city. I followed the crowd and parked along the road that ran through the northern segment of the burial ground.

       Noah's coffin was already prepped and ready for descent by the time I walked from my car to the large white tent set up to shade the festivities from the grueling sun. The Walker family was already seated in the covered fold out chairs facing the casket. I hurried over to find a spot behind the dwindled crowd. David and some others had chosen to remain standing in the back. I slipped up next to him but otherwise ignored him.

       When everyone was settled the preacher went up to recite thematically relevant scripture. He chose Revelation 21:2-4 but I'll be honest, I wasn't listening to that shit. We already heard scripture back at the church. How long is this funeral? What more is there to say about this dude? I'm tired, I'm hungry, my feet are killing me in these shoes—can we wrap it up? I wish they'd just put him in the ground already—wait, focus!

       If David was the murderer his attendance at his victim's funeral was damning. Plus, according to his social media David owned several guns, any one of which could have been the murder weapon. The only hitch in the theory was the fact that the gun had been left only a few feet from the body. What kind of fool would leave evidence if he didn't have to?

       Maybe he'd been in shock.

       I peeked over at David. He stood rim-rod straight with his hands folded together like he was a boy scout or something. His graying hair rustled a bit in a passing breeze. One of his expensive loafers tapped irritably in the grass. If I could just figure out—

       "—This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't cut him off!"

       My eyes snapped forward just in time to see Nancy Walker standing over Noah's coffin with tears streaming down her face.

       Noah's father stood from his seat. "He should have been cut off years ago. You agreed with me."

       She sniffed sadly. "Well, I was wrong."

       "Mom, it's not your fault." Noah's brother, Nate I recalled, stood. "He was a screw up."

       She gasped. "Don't say that."

       "He was. All that money you paid for college, and he throws it away to do God knows what. It's no wonder he was murdered."

       "Don't say that!"

       He pointed his finger at his mother, an act that would've won me a foot up my ass. "You always loved him the most."

       The littlest sister, Maggie, sighed. "Lay off. Today is not the day."

       "Then when?" Nate threw his hands up melodramatically. This whole family was melodramatic! Honestly, I'm over it. "He's dead! And the last time I talked to him I told him he was a screw up!" He looked like he was on the verge of tears too. Lord, we are never getting out of here.

       At that point I started tuning them out again. Always in circles with this family. Yes, he was a fuck up. Yes, no one liked him. Was it bad parenting? I don't know. Was it just his nature? Who gives a shit, he's dead? All I know is, I don't want to die out here waiting to bury this one man 'cause his family can't keep it together for a fucking ten-minute speech. It's true what they say, money really can't buy class. But it sure as hell could have bought some valium to keep Nancy Walker from derailing this shit every time someone said Noah's name! I am sooo ready to go!