The Dearly Departed by Elinor Lipman Read Free Book Online Page B

sleep?”
    He shook his head. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: Nothing ever happens here—until this week, that is. I’ve been in this job for three years. I was on the Keene force for nine years before that, but I swear to God this thing at your mother’s house is the first time I had to put up my police tape.”
    He stared at her hair. Finally, he pointed. “When did this happen?”
    â€œPrematurely.”
    â€œLike, overnight?”
    â€œNot overnight. You haven’t seen me since graduation.”
    â€œIt’s nice,” said Joey. “Gray-blond, you could say.”
    Sunny didn’t respond.
    â€œSo where have you been?”
    â€œCollege. Then various schools, teaching.”
    â€œHow many?”
    â€œThree: one in New York and two in Connecticut. Private schools, so I had to teach and coach and sleep and eat in one place, all for a pittance. I couldn’t find a good fit.” She backed up to the visitors’ bench and sat down.
    â€œYou okay?” he asked.
    Sunny shook her head.
    â€œWant a glass of water? Or juice? I’ve got a refrigerator in the back. Or I can pop a potato into the microwave.”
    She looked up at the large, plain-faced wall clock: nine o’clock, and she couldn’t remember when or what lunch had been.
    Joey asked, “Anything I can do for you?”
    Sunny said, “I’m staying at the King’s Nite, and I don’t have a phone in my room.”
    â€œDo you want to use mine?”
    â€œI just thought you should know I was here if anything came up.”
    â€œDid you want to go to the house tomorrow?”
    Sunny closed her eyes, then opened them before she spoke. “Not unless I have to.”
    â€œThere’s nothing there that would upset you. I mean, sure—everything would upset you—the house where you grew up and then your mother dies there. But I meant everything’s in order. It’s not creepy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
    â€œWho put everything in order?”
    â€œI stopped by on my way back from the hospital to take down the police tape.” He shrugged. “Maybe I moved some dirty dishes to the sink.”
    â€œHave I asked you if they had been there all night? I mean, I know they were, but did anyone figure out how long before they were discovered?”
    â€œMr. Finn picked up their sandwich orders at The Dot, so we know they were alive the night before. They must’ve been overcome between dinner and when the paperboy arrived. It wasn’t really important to pinpoint the exact time of death.”
    â€œI guess,” said Sunny wanly, “that you only have to do that if there’s a murder.”
    â€œSo they tell me.” Joey checked his clipboard. “Mr. Finn’s next of kin? Fletcher?” He looked up. “Has he been any help?”
    Sunny said, “Not so far.”
    â€œIs he here?”
    â€œHe’s coming up for the funeral, but he’s too busy to come any earlier.” She stood up and said, “I’m sure you’re busy, too.”
    â€œBusy putting ice on my hematomas,” he said. When she didn’t respond, he added, “No one told me to do that, but it feels better when I do.”
    â€œDid they catch the man who shot you?”
    Joey said firmly, “They will, any second. Nothing to worry about.” He reached for his hat, grimaced in pain at the stretch. “C’mon. I’ll walk you back.”
    â€œNo. I’m fine. You’re working.”
    â€œWhen’s the funeral?”
    â€œFriday morning. The wake is tomorrow night.”
    â€œDickie been okay? Helpful and all that?”
    Sunny shrugged. “He wanted the wake at the funeral parlor, but I insisted. He said he’d need a permit for the theater, but I said, ‘Give me the name and number of the custodian and I’ll make one phone call.’ It turned out it was