Page 8 of A Rose of Steel
“I see,” I said. It was a phrase I used frequently. It showed I understood and that I had no opinion. Grieving people don’t like opposition, they just want an ear to listen to whatever it is they have to say.
I didn’t know what the groom’s father looked like. I only knew her because she’d been to the house. “I’ll be sure to tell him where you are,” I said and gave a reassuring smile.
“He’ll be driving a green Saturn,” she said as if reading my mind.
“Got it,” I said. I patted her hand and stood up. As I turned to walk away, I saw Rhett. He seemed to be waiting for me.
“I came to the house expecting to see smiles and rice thrown everywhere,” he said. “Instead it looks like a crime scene.”
“I know,” I said. “This definitely didn’t turn out the way Auntie Zanne had envisioned it I’m sure.”
“Where is she?” he asked.
“She’s supposed to be doing crowd dispersion.” I glanced around, but like Piper, Auntie Zanne was nowhere to be found.
“I can do it,” he said. “Whatever she was going to do, I can do. I can help.” He looked at me, his bespectacled light-colored eyes filled with concern as if I was the damsel in distress. He nodded. “I got you.”
Rhett Remmiere had skin the color of honey and just as smooth. He was tall and well-built, a newly joined member of Auntie’s funeral home staff, he just seemed lost to me. Always hanging out eating in our kitchen, available at Auntie’s beck and call, I didn’t know whether he had a home to call his own.
Supposedly a former, or maybe not so former (he was so secretive about it), FBI agent, he had shown no interest in the investigation of the murder of a man we’d found stashed away in our funeral home. Not forthcoming about his personal life, I found him to be too interested in mine. Wanting to impress on the love I had of my mixed-race, French Creole heritage, he’d always tried to show off his command of the French language (although I’d never heard him attempt Louisiana Creole), or show off his passion for the blues and zydeco music, sucking up to me by equating himself with my guitar-playing father.
I hadn’t decided yet what I thought about him.
Although, I at times could get lost in his eyes. Even behind his wire-rimmed glasses, it was easy to be moved by how striking and attractive those specks of gold that danced and twinkled in his eyes were. Especially when he smiled.
“Okay, then. Yes. You help get these people started on their way,” I said. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said and smiled.Twinkle. Twinkle.
I turned away and looked toward the front of the house. “I’ve got to go wait for the paramedics,” I said. I had enough distractions with Alex showing up, I didn’t need any more, especially from Rhett.
“Who’s tending to the groom?” Rhett asked and glanced toward the gazebo. “I would’ve thought it would be you.”
“Appears I’m not the only doctor around.”
“Oh,” he said. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Should I be worried?”
I chuckled. “About what?”
“Someone coming around and sweeping you away.”
I took in a breath. A girl could only hope.
Chapter Four
I finally made it to the front of the house. Forget about movingpeopleout of the way, I found that there were cars everywhere.
The funeral home had a good-sized parking lot on the north side of the building, and the overflow usually parked on the street. But there were cars parked on the grass, on the perimeter of the property and were double and triple parked.
I didn’t know where or how to begin to clear them out.
“We’re getting everyone out of the backyard,” Mark said. She brought me out of my reverie and back to the task at hand.
“We’re moving them to the front,” Leonard and Mark, the seventy-something twins and members of the Roble Belles announced as they walked across the front lawn.
The girls, who’d changed their name to their father’s soon after their seventeenth birthday when he died, were giving me an update. I wasn’t sure how they were doing that when they weren’t even in the back.
“I thought Auntie Zanne was having everyone go home?” I said.
