Silence Of The Hams

be worth the effort.“
    “You are a callous woman,“ Jane said.
    “So are you, and you know it.”
    Jane sighed. “What time?“
    “Eleven.”
    Rhonda Stonecipher had split the difference between grief and gaiety. She wore a gray linen suit with a matching hat that even had a suggestion of a veil. “Where did she find that!“ Shelley whispered. “That’s a great hat!”
    But with the gray suit, she wore a gray, white, and fuschia–striped silk blouse with a matching fabric purse and a drapey fuschia scarf affixed with a large silver pin. It was a stunning outfit. She maintained a dignified and aloof manner, sitting at the front of the church with a number of people who were presumably members of her family or that of her late husband. She dabbed her eyes daintily from time to time with an old-fashioned fabric handkerchief with lacy trim.
    There was a man who looked like an older version of Robert Stonecipher, who was presumably his brother. A very small woman with sharp, foxy features stood by him. A middle-aged woman who looked a great deal like Rhonda, without the money to dress as well, was in the front pew as well, with a man who looked like he’d rather be almost anywhere else. A woman in her twenties who must have been Rhonda’s daughter because she had Rhonda’s features, but very fair coloring, stood next to her mother. She was holding a baby.
    “Rhonda must be a grandmother,“ Jane whispered to Shelley. “She sure keeps that quiet.”
    Jane found herself feeling sorry for Tony Belton. Rhonda had apparently forced him to sit with her and the family, and he looked miserable. Rhonda shared his hymnal, leaning ever so slightly on his arm. The family members on her other side kept shooting him murderous glances. Or perhaps they were aimed at Rhonda and merely ricocheting.
    Jane guessed the Stoneciphers weren’t regular churchgoers, or perhaps the minister just didn’t know them well. It was a generic service, without any reference to the man’s life or circumstances surrounding his death.
    Tony Belton gave a very short eulogy with the air of a man who had been forced into it, but did a workmanlike job. He concentrated, without being specific, on Stonecipher’s civic interests. “His ideas weren’t always popular,“ he admitted, “but he did what he thought he had to for the greater good of the community.“ As he meandered off into an account of Stonecipher’s education, Jane’s attention wandered. The church was less than half full, and those attending the service were widely scattered, as people do when they’re attending a funeral out of duty, not friendship.
    Patsy Mallett had come in her role as business acquaintance. She was sitting alone and looking down intently, as if she had something in her lap she was reading. As Jane watched, Patsy wet her finger to turn a page.
    Grace Axton was there as well. Also alone. She stared straight ahead, absolutely expressionless, her mind probably a thousand miles away.
    There was a contingent of men who had to be lawyers judging by their golf tans and ex- pensive summer suits. A few couples who were probably neighbors were sitting here and there, and several small groups of women filled in some of the gaps. Jane vaguely recognized a few of them as what remained of a once-large segment of society known as “clubwomen“—those ladies whose lives revolved around the garden club, beautification projects, and various good works. Jane found herself cynically wondering how many of them had gotten stuck paying for a lunch or dinner or drink for Rhonda.
    When the service was done, Jane whispered, “I don’t do gravesides.“
    “Neither do I,“ Shelley answered. “I’m surprised Grace was here. Who’s that woman she’s talking to?“
    “That’s Patsy Mallett. Come meet her.”
    Jane introduced the two women and left them gingerly assessing each other while she walked out to the parking lot with Grace Axton. “I was surprised to see you here,“ she said frankly to Grace.
    “I thought since the man actually died in our place, somebody should show up. But it was a mistake. I’ve never felt like such a hypocrite in my life,“ Grace replied.
    “Is Sarah home from the hospital?“ Jane asked. Grace nodded while rummaging in her purse for car keys. “How’s she doing?“
    “Oh, fine. Fine. I think she’d be better if Conrad would stop protecting her. But it’s none of my business. I’ve got to rush, Jane.“
    “Sure. I didn’t mean