Love Can Be Murder

trying to block out the noise of the festival on the square. It seemed ludicrous that anyone could be celebrating when Deke was only hours away from being interred. She broke off another antacid from the roll she'd nearly consumed, then smoothed a hand over her simple navy blue dress. "Do you think I'm dressed appropriately?" She had debated on whether it was special, yet somber, enough for the service. Not that anyone would notice, but she wanted to look nice out of respect for Deke and the good years they'd shared together.
    Guy reached over and squeezed her hand. "You look wonderful. Just relax. It'll all be over soon."
    If only that were true, she thought. Maybe B.J. was right—perhaps the funeral would fuel someone to do or say something that would advance the case. It would be the first time the people closest to Deke—and closest to the investigation—would be together in one place. Thoughts of B.J. sent completely inappropriate impulses through her body. He had been gone this morning when she'd woken up, having left a note that read, "Raided your pantry, found a couple of 'Happy Divorce' chocolate bars. Didn't think you'd mind if I ate them since they were full of nasty sugar and preservatives. B.J." The linens had been folded neatly on the couch, which meant the man could be tidy when he wanted to be.
    And speaking of tidy men, she glanced over to Guy, who wore a spiffy turquoise coat over apricot-color slacks, and dark Gucci glasses. And he was looking rather...tan.
    "Guy, have you been to the tanning bed?" After she'd ranted about how dangerous Sheena's device was—and surely he wouldn't be giving her business anyway.
    He shifted guiltily. "No."
    "Have you been to the Bahamas since I saw you last?"
    "It's self-tanner," he said quickly. "I know how you feel about tanning beds." He sighed. "Everyone in town knows how you feel about them."
    "They'll give you cancer."
    "Everything will give you cancer," he said in a long-suffering voice. "I can't help it if I look better with a tan."
    "How are things going with Carrie?" she asked.
    "They're not," he said in a clipped voice. "Do you believe the woman had the nerve to ask me if I'm gay? I mean, do I seem gay to you?"
    She took in his gelled spiky hair, his designer sunglasses, turquoise sport coat, and self-administered tan. "No."
    "Thank you," he said, nodding curtly.
    "Guy, did you happen to come by my apartment Saturday before you took me home?"
    He frowned. "Before I took you home?"
    "Yeah. Someone...left something for me inside. I've been trying to figure out who it was, and since you have a key..."
    He pushed at his glasses in a way that made her think of Wendy and her nervous habit. "I wish I could take credit for it, but it wasn't me. Sorry." Then he grimaced. "Someone was in your apartment?"
    "Must have been my landlord," she said easily.
    "What about that P.I. guy?"
    A flush climbed her neck. "What about him?"
    "Does he have a key?"
    "No," she said evenly.
    "Well...he could probably pick the locks."
    She decided to change the subject as they drove past the store. "It was nice of Marie to offer to work this afternoon."
    "She's been selling that juice of hers to everyone who walks in the door. You know how she likes to tinker—I hope she's not poisoning people."
    "Me, too," Penny said, then leaned her cheek against the cool glass of the window.
    They rode the rest of the short trip in silence. Goddard's Funeral Home was located past the Charmed Village strip mall, on a plot of residential land. Formerly home to the Goddard family, the structure still fit in with other houses on nearby lots. Except for the sign, the circular driveway, and the hearse sitting out front, one wouldn't know that it was a funeral home. And except for the two TV news vans sitting at the curb, one wouldn't know that this funeral was different from any other.
    Her heart jumped to her throat when she saw the marquee: Deke A. Black, Beloved Son .
    So, apparently Mona had wrestled control over the services from Sheena, else the marquee would have read Beloved Adulterer . Penny fisted her hand over her chest. A few months ago it would have read Beloved Husband , and she would have been prostrate wondering how to go on. Suddenly she was thankful the separation and divorce had given her a bit of emotional distance from Deke. Meanwhile, Mona was making a statement to the women in Deke's life: Wives and girlfriends would come and go, but a mother's love is forever.
    They parked among