The Purrfect Murder

ring.”
    “Will was smart on so many levels.”
    Benita changed the subject. “By the way, I was grateful when your daughter made a statement.”
    “Finally.” Big Mim’s face flushed. “She won’t say anything about terminating pregnancy, though. She’s toadying to the religious right in her party, which, as you know, I feel is a party of untrammeled greed and corruption.”
    “Of which I am a member,” Benita said lightly.
    “I forgot. I’m sorry, but you know I’m a yellow-dog Democrat.” Meaning she’d vote for a yellow dog before she’d vote for a Republican.
    Benita waved her hand. “Will registered Republican, so I did, too. He always said one party was as bad as the other, but he felt that doctors received slightly more consideration from the Republicans. You know me, Mim, no interest in politics and no stomach for it.”
    “Saves indigestion,” Big Mim joked.
    The grandfather clock in the hall, an eighteenth-century one of high value, struck five. While it could have looked out of place in the house, it didn’t, which was a testimony to Benita’s abilities.
    “Soon Daylight Savings will be over and night will fall so much more quickly.” Benita noted the lovely light. “I’ve never much liked winter.”
    “Because you can’t play golf. Now, if you’d foxhunt, winter would fly by.”
    “And so would I.” Benita laughed for the first time.
    They chatted some more; Benita cried a little.
    Big Mim actually quoted a passage she herself remembered from the Bible, Philippians, Chapter 4, Verse 13: “‘I can do all things in him who strengthens me.’”
    “Miranda has rubbed off on you,” Benita remarked.
    “She can go on. She must have the entire Bible memorized. I try to have her faith but I’m too logical, I fear.”
    “I’m discovering mine.”
    “What I have I found when I was diagnosed with breast cancer those years ago. I looked inward. Something I don’t usually do.” She inhaled. “Who wants pain? Who desires suffering? I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind wanting a dose, but one learns such important lessons that can’t be learned any other way. My mother, when I complained, used to tell me that suffering was a gift if you looked it in the eye. I never believed her, but now I do.”
    “I’m learning.”
    As Big Mim rose to leave, she stopped for a moment and glanced again at Will’s maple, the slanting rays hitting the top perfectly so the blush became more radiant, promising outrageous color soon. “Benita, keep your eyes on those unpaid invoices. With Will’s death, some people may drag their heels sending in the check.”
    Little did she know she’d hit the nail on the head. Almost.

16
    S o teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
    The antiphon thus spoken, the Rev. Herb Jones continued with the service for burial, his bass voice making the beautiful service even more memorable.
    Benita, Georgina, Will, Jr., and Will’s two brothers and his sister with their families stood quietly under the maple tree as Herb, in his vestments, consoled them with
“Domine, refugium”
—the Lord is my refuge.
    The long, verdant lawn added to the peacefulness of the moment.
    At the close of the service, Will, Jr., placed his father’s ashes in a three-foot-square hole dug near the maple. Georgina covered it with dirt, patting it down.
    Benita knelt, placing a cascade of pale yellow roses over the spot. Each family member, in turn, added their flowers.
    The office staff, not in attendance because the service was family only, had brought a sumptuous luncheon to the house, to follow the funeral.
    The three women cried quietly. Kylie sobbed the most, but she was the youngest. They’d come by at nine in the morning, and when Margaret, who’d driven everyone, dropped Kylie back at her apartment, she breathed a sigh of relief. All the drama was getting on Margaret’s nerves.
    The family filed back to the flagstone patio, where the luncheon had been set out with the best china and crystal. They stood behind their seats at the two long tables.
    “Herb, please take the seat of honor.” Benita motioned for him to head her table.
    “The girls thought of everything.” Will, Jr., opened the first bottle of champagne.
    Everyone called the office staff “the girls.”
    When all the glasses were filled, Benita stood, faced the tree, and held her glass high. “To the memory of a good husband, a man of integrity and exquisite taste.