His killer might be at the funeral. You and Maury don’t need to be rubbing elbows with a killer.”
“We’ll be rubbing elbows with the same people you and Cory met. Maybe a few more. You two are safe enough. I’m sure we will be, too.”
I couldn’t think of a response to that. Instead, I tried a diversionary tactic. “How do you know when his funeral is anyway? Maybe it’s for family only.”
“It’s Wednesday morning at ten. The medical examiner released his body today, and his office released a statement regarding the funeral. It’s open to anyone. He didn’t have any immediate family. Isn’t that sad?”
He had a godson, Matthew Gleason, who might be a suspect in his murder. I refrained from sharing that information with Erica. It would be just like her to go to the funeral and sidle up to him first.
“Besides, isn’t Ray going to attend? He was the first one to respond to the scene.”
I really didn’t want to get into the fact that Ray wasn’t assigned to the case. “Erica, I just don’t think you guys should go.”
“Mom does. And last time I listened to you instead of her, and look what happened.”
Mom trumped me again. Pretty good for a ghost, not that I believed in ghosts. “Okay, well, keep your eyes open.” And your mouth shut. Not likely, knowing Erica.
“I will. I’m planning to get the names of everyone who attends.”
She hung up before I could ask her how she intended to do that. Did I really want to know?
I went toward the guest bathroom, looking for a bandage to cover the prick in my finger. The front door opened as I passed through the living room. Danny burst through it, tossed his fleece on a wall hook, and slouched past me with his backpack in hand.
“Hi, Danny. How was your day?”
He grunted. His bedroom door closed in my face.
Ray came in and stopped when he saw me in the middle of the room. “Where’s Danny?”
“In his room.”
“Tell him to get out here and set the table. He needs to learn what it means to have responsibility and work for a living.” Ray passed me and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator door open and close, then the top pop off a beer bottle.
I decided to continue into the bath and bandage my finger, hoping they’d both settle down with some breathing room. When I returned to the kitchen, Ray occupied one of the breakfast bar stools, his elbows on the bar, head cupped in his hands. His beer sat untouched in front of him.
I rubbed my hand over his back. For years, I’d rubbed this man’s back almost every night. He was obviously upset and didn’t know what to do. “What happened when Danny saw his father?”
Ray lifted his head from his hands and took a long pull on his beer. “I don’t know. He won’t tell me.”
“Oh.” I massaged his shoulders with both hands, feeling the knots of tension.
“He did ask me if we would pay his father’s bail.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I asked him if his father put him up to asking me for the money.”
“And?”
“He said ‘no.’ Then he told me he hated me.”
“Who hates you? Mr. Phillips?”
“Danny.”
I let go of Ray’s shoulders and headed over to stir the pots on the stove. “You’ve heard that before. We both have. He doesn’t mean it.”
Erica used to tell me all the time that she hated me, especially after I’d driven off one of the guys she rutted with on the couch or after I’d refused to give her money. No parent ever got through a kid’s life without hearing it at least once or twice. Ray’s brother said it to him a million times. I’d have thought he’d be insulated from the sting of the words by now. Ray must care more about Danny than Sean. Of course, Sean was his younger brother, not his child. Their mother made all the final decisions for Sean.
Ray slid off the stool. “I’m going to get changed. Tell Danny to set the table.”
I resented being ordered about, as I was sure Danny would, too. Ray always got very drill sergeant-like when upset. It was his defense mechanism, but I didn’t welcome or enjoy it. I liked to make my own decisions. But I’d overlook his behavior for now.
Danny didn’t reply when I knocked on his door. I opened it and entered his room anyway. He lay on the bed, hands clasped behind his