Private Scandals

organ music, he realized, horribly relieved, but piano and cello in somber duet. The air smelled of lemon oil, perfume, flowers. He would have sworn he smelled whiskey as well, sharp as a blade cutting through the overly sweetened air.
    The thick carpet was a riot of deep red roses and muffled their footsteps as they walked down a wide hall. On both sides heavy oak doors were discreetly shut. At the end they were flung open. Cigarette smoke added to the miasma of scent.
    When he felt her tremble, Finn tucked his arm more firmly around her waist. “We can turn around and leave, Deanna. There’s no shame in it.”
    She only shook her head. Then she saw the first video camera. The press, it seemed, wasn’t merely huddled outside.Several had been allowed in, complete with camera crews, microphones and lights. Cables were strewn over the garden of carpet in the main viewing room.
    In silence, they slipped inside.
    The cathedral ceiling with its painted mural of cherubim and seraphim tossed the murmuring voices and chinking glasses everywhere.
    The room was crowded with people. As Deanna looked from face to face, she wondered if she would see grief or fear or simply resignation. Would Angela feel she was being mourned properly? And would her killer be here, to observe?
    No one wept, Finn noted. He did see shock and sober eyes. Voices were muted respectfully. And the cameras recorded it all. Would they, he wondered, inadvertently record one face, one that couldn’t quite hide the knowledge, and the triumph? He kept Deanna close to his side, knowing that the murderer could be in the room, watching.
    There was a photograph of Angela in a gold frame. The flattering publicity shot sat atop a gleaming mahogany coffin.
    It reminded Finn, much too vividly, of what lay inside the discreetly closed lid. Feeling Deanna shudder beside him, he instinctively drew her closer.
    “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
    “No.”
    “Kansas—” But when he looked at her he saw more than the shock and fear. He saw what was missing on so many of the other faces that crowded the room: grief.
    “Whatever her motives,” Deanna said quietly, “she helped me once. And whoever did this to her used me.” Her voice broke. “I can’t forget that.”
    Neither could he. That was what terrified him. “It would be better if Dan Gardner doesn’t spot either one of us.”
    Deanna nodded, spotting him at the front of the room, accepting condolences. “He’s using her too, even though she’s dead. It’s horrible.”
    “He’ll ride her press for a while. She’d have understood that.”
    “I suppose.”
    “An interesting scene, isn’t it?” Loren commented when he joined them. He gave Deanna a hard, searching look, then nodded. “You’re looking well.”
    “No I’m not.” Grateful for the lie, she kissed his cheek. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
    “I could say the same.” He warmed her chilled hands between his. “It seemed necessary somehow, but I’m already regretting it.” His expression changed to one of disgust as he looked over his shoulder at Dan Gardner. “Rumor is he plans to air clips from this viewing along with the special Angela taped for next May. And he’s demanding another five thousand a minute from sponsors. The son of a bitch will get it, too.”
    “Bad taste often costs more than good,” Deanna murmured. “There must be five hundred people in here.”
    “Easily. A handful are even sorry she’s dead.”
    “Oh, Loren.” Deanna’s stomach clenched like a fist.
    “I hate to admit I’m one of them.” Then he sighed and shrugged off the mood. “She’d have gotten an ego boost out of that piece of news.” To clear the emotion from his voice, Loren coughed gently into his hand. “You know, I can’t decide if Angela deserved Dan Gardner or not. It’s a tough call.”
    “I’m sure she didn’t deserve you.” The tears burning in her eyes made Deanna feel like a hypocrite since they weren’t for Angela. “We’re not staying, Loren. Why don’t you come with us?”
    “No, I’m going to see this through. But I think you should avoid any publicity here tonight. Slip out quietly.”
    When they were back in the alcove, Deanna turned into Finn’s arms. “I had no idea he still loved her.”
    “I don’t think he did, either.” He tipped her face up until their eyes were level. “Are you all right?”
    “Actually, I’m better.” She turned her head until her cheek rested on his