She shifted, meaning to turn her eyes back to the front, but then she saw another familiar face. It was Rebecca, standing against a wall, and she was crying openly, tears streaming down her face as her shoulders shook. She blinked, wondering just how well Rebecca had known Edward. She hadn’t said much to the other women at the dinner party other than a simple hello, and still didn’t know much about her. Curious now to see if the last member of the dinner party was there, she looked around for Rich, but didn’t spot him. Not at first, anyway. Eventually she thought to look toward the back of the room and saw him standing just inside the doors, looking impatient.
Shaking her head, she turned back toward the front. She could wonder about Rich and Rebecca later. Right now, she was here to pay her respects to a man she had barely known, but who she had watched die. This would be the first step in the long, long path to healing for all of them.
Chapter Eight
Once the service was over, the funeral parlor filled with the sound of murmured condolences. As Hannah made her way up to Lacey, she was surprised to see the older woman wasn’t crying. She was standing strong, a grim, lonely expression on her face, and Hannah felt a surge of sympathy for her. She had a lot of weight to carry on her shoulders now, and no one to share it with.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said softly as she passed by. Lacey met her eyes and nodded, then turned to Caroline, who was the next in line. Caroline hesitated, then said, “I’m so, so sorry, Lacey. I promise, I won’t stop looking until I figure out what happened.”
Lacey just nodded again, the muscles in your jaw clenching, and then turned to Dean. Hannah and Caroline continued on their way, stepping out of the parlor and into the light of the summer day outside. They moved to the side so the rest of the crowd could pass by them, and Hannah leaned against the wall, sighing. She felt as if a weight had lifted off of her chest now that the funeral was over.
“No, I haven’t heard from our lawyer,” a male voice said, catching her attention. She looked over to see Rich standing by the corner of the building, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I just left the funeral, honey. I’ll handle it within the next week or two.” There was a moment of silence then he sighed. “Yes, I know it's important, but I don’t want to rush them. His wife saw him die; I might not be the most thoughtful person in the world, but I’m not about to jump down her throat until she's had some time to grieve. The money can wait.” Another pause. “Right. I’ll let you know when I hear from him. Love you. Bye.”
He ended the call, looked around, shot Hannah a sour look – but she was beginning to suspect that was just the way his face was because no one could be that unhappy all the time – and strode away toward the parking lot. On her other side, Caroline had started talking to Dean and had missed the encounter.
They sat down at the Shale Hill Kitchen without saying a word to each other a few minutes later. All of them were subdued after the funeral, and Hannah was thinking about everything she had seen during and after the service. She didn’t know how to put any of it together, but she knew one thing for certain; Caroline and Dean had strange friends. As always when she was eating at the Shale Hill Kitchen, she was on the lookout for Fiona, her sort–of nemesis. Fiona didn’t appreciate the competition from Hawk’s Place, and had made sure Hannah knew it. She wasn’t quite banned from the Kitchen, but it was a close thing.
“I’m going to miss him,” Dean said at last, breaking the silence. “He was a good friend, and he didn’t deserve to go like that.”
Caroline didn’t broach the subject she had been so eager to talk about until the waitress came with their food. Once they had some privacy, she leaned forward and spoke across the table in a low voice.
“I found an empty bottle of peanut oil in my garbage bin when we got home last night.” She reached into her purse, pulling out a peanut oil bottle tucked inside a plastic baggie. Hannah looked at it, frowning.
“Does that mean that you did use that instead of the sesame oil –”
“No!” It came out too loudly and Caroline looked around surreptitiously before tucking the bottle back into her purse. “No, I definitely didn’t. I didn’t use all of the sesame oil, just a tablespoon, and I put it right back in my cupboard. I didn’t throw any bottles away that night. Besides, this isn’t a brand that you can find at the local grocery store. I know; I checked. I did some calling around and found out that it’s sold at a supermarket nearly an hour from here, and I never shop there. Neither does Dean. Neither of us bought this.”
“So… someone else brought it over to your house that night,” Hannah said, connecting the dots. “Do you think someone contaminated the soup with it on purpose?”
Caroline nodded, looking grim. “It’s the only thing I can think of that would explain it. Someone brought that peanut oil with them and poured into the soup – I doubt they used the whole thing, so there must’ve only been a little bit left in the bottle or else I definitely would have noticed that the flavor was off – and then threw the bottle away when they were done. I’m going to take it to the police after this. Maybe they can find fingerprints on it.”
“Do you really think someone at the dinner party killed Edward?
