More Poison in Your Coffee?

Chapter 13

        The next evening was hazy and dreary from last night’s rain. Clouds still hung in the sky giving us a temporary break from the sun and the grass licked at my ankles, leaving the residue from a quick morning sprinkle around my legs.

        I figured the funeral was a good place to chat up my suspects since everyone’s going to spend the day thinking on memory lane about Bo.

        The service had been packed, not too many people liked Bo, but plenty of them wanted to make sure he was dead. Unfortunately for him after the service only a hand full of people even bothered to come to the graveyard. Unfortunately for me none of those people were Allison. However I did strike the suspect jackpot in that everyone else on my list was present.

          Of course Karalyn was here looking classy in her clean pressed black skirt and blazer. She had a veil over her eyes and from my spot in the back I could see she was in tears. Earl was here too, looking solemnly in an old dark navy suit. My number one target Brock was seated next to Karalyn, shoulders slumped and head down. Next to him was a wiry brunette wearing a black dress and hat piled high with black roses. I assumed from the way she was patting Brock that she was his wife.

        After we buried him, the funeral patrons all gathered at some fancy dining hall that Karalyn had rented out for the repast. Walking in, black heels clacking on those fabulous tile floors I couldn't help but feel bad for Karalyn, she'd really gone all out for the man she loved.

          I bypassed the buffet even though my stomach was screaming at me to stay, and headed straight for the widow Conway. She was sitting on a couch that I'm sure cost more than my first born son, eyes glazed over with sadness. Hey, at least she wasn't crying this time. I took a seat next to her.

       "How are you doing?" I grabbed one of her pudgy hands and cradled it in my own.

        "Fine." She let out a contented sigh. "I've been thinking a lot lately Evelyn."

       "You can call me Evie."

        "Evie. I've been thinking that this tragedy is the perfect opportunity to turn my life around. Start jogging again, get myself in shape."

        Behold the power of women when they aren't influenced by abusive assholes. Geez, not a week after her husband's death and she's ready to turn her life around.

        "That's great!" I was truly happy for her.

        "If there's one thing I've learned from this tragedy is that life's too short. I want to be healthy again. I want to look pretty again."

        "You will."

        She smiled. "Well, I'm glad you came. Help yourself to the food. I've arranged take out trays since fewer people came than I anticipated so feel free to take all you want home." Oh shit, yeah! My Grandma Sophie always told me to never turn down a free meal. Now I was gonna get to take home some of that rich people food. Bitchin'. "Bo's friends love to talk about the past. I suspect I'll be here all night."

        "Okay." I rubbed her hand barely containing myself. "Take care of yourself." I was up and bee lining for the food when my eyes caught Brock Conway.

        He was sitting in an easy chair looking like the life was sucked out of him, just itching to be interrogated. I looked at the mouth watering buffet. I'd woken up late this morning and only had time to shove a cold strawberry pop tart in my mouth.

        The table was calling me but I remembered that I came to help Jackson. But still...Interrogate a suspect, or stuff my face? Help Jackson; help myself to the crème brulee. Aw hell, I knew what I had to do, so I marched right by the food and- oh shit they got lobster in this bitch? Maybe I could...