If the Coffin Fits Read online

  There was a sign on the door. AA MEETING 8:30 AM.

  No wonder Vodka Mom didn’t look quite like her picture. She wasn’t Vodka Mom anymore.

  *

  I went back home, unsure of what to do next. Did Vodka Mom still have reason to want Violet dead if she was now Not Vodka Mom? I had a while to think about it. Zenia was scheduled to return for our inspection.

  I took Orion on a long walk so he’d be mellow and sleepy. I put on my most beige assistant funeral director clothes. I walked through the place trying to find every speck of dust and cobweb. Uncle Joey and Donna were doing the same things. Uncle Joey had trimmed his beard and put on dress shoes and a tie. He looked quite dapper. When it was time for Zenia to arrive, we were lined up in the hallway like maids and butlers at an English country estate waiting for the Lord and Lady to arrive.

  Zenia pulled into the driveway at exactly five minutes to ten. She sat in her car and made notes on a clipboard until one minute to ten when she got out and walked to the door. I reached for the door to open it before she knocked, but Uncle Joey put his hand on my arm to stop me. He shook his head. Once she knocked, he let go of my arm and nodded.

  Zenia walked through the funeral home with her clipboard in hand making notes here and there. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floors. Uncle Joey followed after her, hands shoved into his back pockets. Donna and I trailed after him for a while then gave up and walked up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Should we be doing something?” I whispered to Donna from where we sat on the top of the stairs. We’d eavesdropped on the adults our whole life on this perch. I looked over at her bulging stomach wondering who this little one would cuddle with as she tried to decode what the grown-ups were talking about. Maybe she could cuddle with Orion.

  “We should be doing our jobs all the time,” Donna whispered back.

  I thought we were. I hoped we were.

  Uncle Joey and Zenia left the ground floor and headed down to the basement where the office and embalming room were. Donna blew out a breath. “How did she seem? Do you think she seemed okay?”

  “I’m not sure how to tell,” I said. We crept down further. “She’s a little hard to read. I could pretend to go get some paperwork or something from downstairs to see what they’re doing.”

  “No. It’d be too obvious. Let’s just wait.”

  We didn’t have long. Uncle Joey and Zenia walked back upstairs and to the front door. Zenia pulled some pages off her clipboard. “These are the notifications of violations, Joe.”

  Uncle Joey glanced over the list and sighed. “I see.”

  “They’re all pretty minor,” she said, smoothing her hair. “But they need to be seen to.”

  “I understand.” He folded the paper into thirds, nodding gravely.

  “Is two days sufficient time to tend these items?” Zenia asked, her lips slightly pursed.

  Uncle Joey thought for a moment. “Should be.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you then. Let me know if you have any questions before then.” She clipped out the door. Uncle Joey followed her. Donna and I rushed to the window at the stairs landing where you could see out onto the drive. He helped her into her car, then chatted for a moment. They shook hands. He shut the car door, then Uncle Joey slouched back in, hands firmly back in his back pockets.

  “What do you think of that?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. Let’s go ask.” We scampered down to the basement where Uncle Joey whistled as he pulled a filing cabinet away from the wall.

  “Everything okay?” Donna asked.

  He shrugged and pointed to the papers on his desk. “Few little things here and there like cleaning behind these cabinets. Shouldn’t take me more than a few hours to deal with it all.”

  “Then what happens,” I asked.

  “Zenia comes back and double-checks that we’ve fixed everything to her satisfaction.” He took off his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

  Uncle Joey prided himself on his work. He took pains to always do everything the correct way. He was looking at a list of things he hadn’t done right and he was whistling. Something wasn’t adding up. “Do you need any help with any of it?” I asked. “Are there things I can do?” I wasn’t as proficient in all things funeral as Donna and Uncle Joey were. There were things I couldn’t take care of, but there was a lot I could. Cleaning behind cabinets seemed like one I could do.

  He shook his head. “No worries. I’m on it.”

  He sauntered off, still whistling. He seemed awfully happy for a guy who was just told he had a bunch of infractions to take care of.

  *

  Nothing was scheduled for the afternoon. We’d originally been scheduled for a pick-up, but it had been canceled. That didn’t happen often, although apparently that was changing. I seized the opportunity to get out of the house. I took Orion for a hike through Cold Clutch Canyon. It renewed my spirit and energized me. It had been one of the special places I’d gone with my father. As I sat up on the ledge sharing some string cheese with Orion, I thought about what Dad might have done if he’d seen something. Would he have gone to the police? I’d certainly not had good luck with that. Dad was great at reading people. He might well have known exactly how Luke would react. Dismissive. Disbelieving. Disappointing.

  So what would Dad have done? If he had evidence, he’d have put it in a secure place. He wouldn’t have kept it at home. He wouldn’t have wanted to put us in danger. It hit me like a lightning bolt. His storage space. Months after he’d disappeared, after I’d come home, I’d found a key to a storage space a few towns over. I hadn’t seen anything important in it when I’d looked in it, but maybe I hadn’t known what to look for. Maybe I’d find whatever evidence he had on Canty Construction or the mayor there and I’d be able to prove to everyone that the cases were connected and that my dad hadn’t simply vanished at sea.

  “Come on, boy. We’ve got work to do.”

  Orion stood up and shook himself as if he was gearing himself up for a chore.

  *

  The rain that had been threatening finally came as Orion and I drove to Pluma Vista Storage. I lowered the windows a crack. I loved the smell of the first rain after a long time, that scent of the dust being washed away. It would make the corn maze smell funny, but I was too old for corn mazes anyway. The hair on the back of Orion’s neck stood up and he growled deep in his throat. “What’s the matter, boy?” I asked as I turned on the windshield wipers. His head followed the blades back and forth a few times as if he was at a tennis match and then he barked.

  It finally occurred to me that he might never have seen rain before. Spring and summer in this part of the country are notoriously dry. If we had any rain at all, it wouldn’t have been much more than a sprinkle. This was the first good soaker we’d gotten. Orion wasn’t even a year old yet. It might really never have rained here in his whole life. I reached into the backseat and put my hand on his back and made what I hoped were comforting noises. The barking and growling lowered to more of a whine, then he curled up on the seat.

  We pulled into the storage facility. I punched in the code and drove around to the stairs closest to Dad’s space. Orion nearly leaped from the car when I opened the door. He sprung out into the rain, snapping his teeth at it. Suddenly, he stopped. He sniffed the ground. He looked over his shoulder at me. I motioned for him to come under the eave where I was standing. “You’re getting all wet.”

  He lifted his head toward the sky and opened his mouth, letting the rain fall on his lolling tongue. Then he did a little doggy dance before following me up the stairs. Apparently, rain was now fine with him. It was good to be flexible.

  I got to Dad’s space dragging a dolly I’d found at the top of the stairs, pulled out the key, undid the lock, then pushed up the garage-like door, mentally calculating how many trips I’d have to take up and down to get everything into the Element. No way was I going to go through it all here. Four trips. Five at the most, I thought.

  Then
the door went up and we stepped inside. It was going to take me fewer trips than I’d thought. The space was completely empty.

  *

  Talking to the guy in the office at the storage facility was a complete waste of time. No, he didn’t know when the space had been cleaned out. No. He still didn’t know who had rented the space, just that it had been paid for in cash.

  Rafe called as I drove back to Verbena. “Ready for some good news?” he asked over the swish of my windshield wipers.

  “More than ready.” Things had been on a bit of a downward swing for the day.

  “Our article got picked up by the wire services.”

  That was good news. That meant people thought it was important enough to spread around. It would reach more people. Get more attention. “Nice,” I said.

  “And it has apparently triggered a Federal investigation.”

  Even better. That meant we didn’t have to count on Luke to look farther than the end of his nose at anything. It also meant that if there were any connections between Canty Construction and my father, someone would unearth it. “Excellent.”

  “Does that mean you’re now in a good mood?”

  A gust of wind rocked the car. Orion lifted his head up and whined. “Why?”

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Mm-hmm.” I wasn’t going to help him.

  “You know those great articles you do about the town, the ones that give all the local color and showcase how Verbena is so special?”

  I sighed. “Stop buttering me up. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to interview Tamara Utley about her Ghost Tour.”

  No way. “Make Vern do it.”

  “He’s swamped right now and he has no nuance and zero sense of whimsy. Please?”

  “Why can’t you do it?” I sounded almost as whiny as Orion.

  “I’m swamped, too. Come on. It’s right up your alley. All that small-town charm and stuff.”

  I sighed. I did love the small-town charm and stuff. I just didn’t love Tamara Utley. Dad had really not liked her. It predisposed me against her. Of course, Rafe didn’t say the article had to be flattering, now did he? “Sure,” I said.

  “Great. Meet her at the cafe at four.”

  “Do I get to expense my coffee?”

  “Of course.”

  “And pie?” I’d almost certainly be hungry by then.

  He sighed. “Pie, too. Geez. Get one article picked up by national press and suddenly you’re a diva. Good thing you’re worth it.”

  I hung up with a smile on my face.

  *

  First, however, I wanted to understand what was going on with Not Vodka Mom. I went back to the elementary school at release time. I parked on a different side street—no need for Nosey McNoserton to call Luke on me again. I knew what I was looking for this time. Orion and I got out and strolled down the sidewalk looking for that blue minivan. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still overcast and a gust of wind flopped one of Orion’s ears over to one side. I spotted it about three quarters down the line of minivans and SUVs. When I got there, Not Vodka Mom—still in her athleisurewear, I knew it was too cute to actually work out in—was looking at something on her smart phone. I leaned in the open window on the passenger side. “Something interesting?”

  She jumped. I felt a momentary pang. I hadn’t liked it much when Luke had done that to me. She put her hand to her chest. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Desiree Turner,” I started.

  “From the funeral home?” She put her phone down. “Are you trying to cause more heart attacks to drum up more business? I mean, I’d heard you guys were having some trouble, but that’s pretty tacky.”

  “I did not cause Reita Giroux’s heart attack,” I said. “And what do you mean we’re having trouble?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. What do you want?”

  I took out my phone, pushed play on the video of her pouring vodka into her thermos for her, and held it through the open window.

  “Damn it! When I heard Violet had died, I thought this was all over. So is this how you’re going to save your funeral home? By taking over Violet Daugherty’s blackmail business?” She smoothed her already smooth hair into its ponytail. “Because you can forget about it.”

  “No!” I said. Why did everyone think I was itching to become a blackmailer? “No. I don’t want to blackmail anyone. Can we talk?”

  She sighed. “Sure. Get in.” She unlocked the door. Orion jumped into the back and I got into the front passenger seat. “Now, please tell me what you really want.”

  “Where were you on October second?” I asked.

  She picked her phone back up and hit the calendar app. “Driving field trip. We went to the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum in San Jose. They’ve been studying Egypt. We didn’t get back until nearly seven.”

  “Driving sober?” I asked.

  She looked me straight in the eye. “Always sober now. Always.”

  “Are you diabetic? Or is anybody in your house diabetic?” I asked.

  She leaned forward and squinted her eyes at me. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Just answer the question, please.” I tapped my phone with the video on it.

  “You know what? Keep that video. Do whatever you want with it. I don’t care who knows I had a problem. They probably already knew anyway. I thought I was being so slick. I didn’t think anyone knew. People probably suspected, though. It’s not like they would have let me drive field trip back then. Oh, no. They would have found an excuse. It was a matter of time before something happened. Something I couldn’t get back from.” She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Orion stuck his nose in from the back seat and whined. She opened her eyes and gave him a pat, then reached into her purse and, after a moment of fumbling around, pulled out a token, and held it up. “Violet did me a favor.”

  “What’s that?” I pointed to the token.

  “That’s my three-month sobriety chip.” She tucked it back away in her purse. “Violet blackmailing me was a wake-up call. When I realized how ashamed I was of what I was doing, I knew that I needed help. The day after she approached me with that video was the day I attended my first AA meeting. I’ve been clean and sober ever since.”

  “That’s impressive,” I said.

  She shook her head. “Nope. It’s all about taking it one day at a time, one moment at a time. Now I’d really like you to get out of my car.”

  I started to shift toward the door and stopped. “What did Violet want from you?”

  A flush crept up her neck. “She made me run her errands.”

  I almost laughed. “What?”

  “She said as long as I was driving around in my van getting my drink on, I might as well pick up her dry cleaning and go to the library and post office for her.” She shook her head, making her ponytail bounce.

  “You’re kidding.” Violet had a lot of nerve and she was one of the wackiest blackmailers I’d ever heard of. Code violations at your neighbor’s house? Errand running?

  “I wish I was. It was … humiliating. At least, at first.” She shrugged and smoothed the already smooth ponytail again.

  Something wasn’t quite adding up. “Why did you keep doing it if you’d stopped drinking?”

  She hesitated. “I felt like I owed her. I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t made me take a good hard look at myself and what I was doing. Something horrible could have happened.” Her voice sounded thick. “I could have hurt someone, my kids, someone else’s kids. The drinking was hell on my marriage, too. Violet saved me. She didn’t mean to, but she did. Half the time I had errands in the same places she did anyway. It felt like a small price to pay to the woman who made me get my life back.”

  Two kids with enormous backpacks appeared in the door of the van. “Mom! Did we get a dog?”

  Not Vodka Mom shot me a look. “I need you to go before I have real trouble.”

  I got out
of the car. Orion followed. Of course he shook hands with the two kids, which set off a riot of oohing, aahing, and petting him. While the kids were distracted, I turned back to Not Vodka Mom. “Violet might have set you on the path to where you are right now, but you’re the one who actually forged the path and stayed on it. It can’t have been easy. Remember that before you go giving Violet too much credit for what you did for yourself and your family.”

  Then we left.

  *

  It was time to meet Tamara Utley at Cold Clutch Canyon Café. It was too cold and wet to sit outside and I knew I’d be pushing my luck if I tried to bring him inside. I called Jasmine. “Any chance you’re available for some dog sitting?”

  “For how long?”

  I thought for a second. “No more than an hour or so.”

  She sighed. “Fine. Bring him over, but I’m not picking up any poo.”

  “I can work with that.”

  I scooted into the parking lot across from the house where Jasmine rented office space, gathered up some things, and we went into her office. Orion pranced around her as if she was a long lost relative he’d suddenly found hidden in some couch cushions. “Hey,” I said. “Remember that storage space of my Dad’s I found?”

  “The one with photos of you and Donna and your mom and the little charms and stuff?” She crouched down to let Orion lick her face.

  “Yeah, well, it used to be the one with the photos and the charms and stuff. It’s empty now.”

  She looked up at me sharply. Orion licked her chin. “Like someone emptied it?”

  I nodded.

  “Who?”

  “No one seems to know.”

  She stood. “Desiree, that’s weird.”

  “I thought so, too. I mean, who empties out the mystery storage space of a dead man?” I glanced at my watch. “I’ve got to go. Can we talk later?”