sorts at his diner, and many funeral participants looked relieved to have someplace to go. Those police on duty declined, and the rest drove willingly after Edgar.
“Sam, do you want a ride to the Crow’s Nest?” Andy called over his shoulder as he helped Jenny into his unmarked car. Sally was already in the backseat, and Sam could see her soothing Jenny as soon as she got in.
“No, thanks. I don’t have the stomach for any more of this today.” Sam waved him off.
Sam watched as the parking lot emptied, one car after another. Some of the people who had known Lee, and thus Sam by default, stopped to offer condolences to Sam before leaving. Sam braved a smile, but it was the last thing he felt like doing. He shook hands and nodded, tuning out the voices so that the words melted together into a single hum.
“Lee was killed because of this.”
Sam felt it before he saw her, a slip of paper being pressed hard into his hand by the tall woman clothed in a stylish black suit, low-dipping hat, dark hose, and high heels.
He snapped to attention at her words, and he held her hand two seconds longer than any of the hands he’d shook of those who had come before her.
“What did you say?” Sam whispered as she quickly hugged him, as so many of the well-wishers had that morning. As he breathed in her smell of jasmine, he noticed a loose strand of black hair at the nape of her neck. He shoved the paper into his pocket, leaving his hand there so as not to call attention to the movement as he hugged her with the other arm.
She just pulled away and smiled, her deep burgundy lips parting slightly to reveal perfectly straight bright teeth. She turned and walked swiftly to her little red Miata convertible while fishing her keys out at the same time. Her sassy, swinging walk was unforgettable as she deftly maneuvered over the sidewalk, down the curb, and across the parking lot.
Sam wanted to go after her, but the line persisted. He was hugged and had his hand shaken for several minutes more as he watched the woman drive away.
Chuck and Lisa were last in line, hanging back a bit until the crowd subsided. “You need a lift back to that boat of yours?” Chuck asked. “Or do you want to come with us to the Crow’s Nest? We probably won’t stay that long, just long enough to get some lunch.”
Feeling the note snuggly in his pocket, Sam declined. “Actually, I would prefer to go pick up my Blazer. Can you drop me by impound?”
“It isn’t ready,” the chief spoke up from behind Sam. “We need a little more time with it to fix the window for you, Sam. You’ll have to get another set of wheels. Why don’t you ride back to the station with me? I’m heading back there now, and I have a car that would work for you for a few days until yours is ready.”
Lisa slipped her arm into Sam’s. “We will bring him. I want more time with Sam,” Lisa gushed. “We are both so sorry about Lee, Sam. I only met him at the office functions, but he seemed like a great guy.” She cozied up to Sam as they walked toward the Owens’ tan Ford Taurus wagon, telling him how she had insisted that she would never drive a “mommy van,” but she needed the room for hauling her finds purchased at art and craft shows she frequented up and down the coast.
“Chuck tells me that Lee’s wife is an artist. I don’t think I’ve met her, but I would be glad to see her work. I’m planning to call her in a few weeks, you know, after all this…well, after she’s had a little time to adjust. If she’s willing, we could add her work to the gallery’s selection and I could start representing her. You know, I have quite a following of locals and out-of-towners who make my gallery the first place they visit when they come to town or when they need something special.”
Lisa continued her monologue all the way to the station, telling Sam more than he wanted to know about how the fine art and craft shows she visited impacted her sales over the years, and how her efforts in the gallery inspired local art collectors to look beyond what was normally considered art to encompass functional pieces