Page 69 of Chosen Path
“Who’s Doctor Collins?”
“Doc’s predecessor. I don’t even know why Doc would have these, but they’re not going to help us.”
“I have a proposal,” Bodhi said. “Why don’t you and Hope go to the funeral and reception, and I’ll stay here and go through some more of these boxes?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Molly asked.
“Glad to do it,” he assured her.
Hope said, “I should go home and get cleaned up. My place is on the way. Okay if we stop there? I’ll be quick.”
“Sure,” Molly agreed readily. “Do you need anything before we go, Bodhi? A cup of tea?”
“No, thanks. Just be sure to lock the door so nobody wanders in and goes through the refrigerator while I’m up here.”
Molly and Hope headed for the door.
“Oh, I do have a question for you, Hope. You said you separated out the deaths that were listed as being the result of natural causes. What about any other deaths?”
“I did make a pile of those, too, but they aren’t on the chart. I couldn’t find a pattern. Heart failure, brain hemorrhage, motorcycle accident, you name it. They were all over the map.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Hope. And Molly?”
“Yeah?”
“If Kimberly really was speaking on behalf of the entire council, are you prepared for a frosty reception?”
Molly’s expression was grim, and resolute. “Yep.”
“Go get ‘em.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Greg stared at Ed Pratt. Ed, apparently under the impression that Greg hadn’t heard his question, repeated it.
“So, do you want the easel holding the photo of Nik on one side of the casket and a pedestal with an urn of flowers on the other or do you want the casket to be flanked by flowers on both sides and the easel set up in front of the parlor?”
Greg blinked rapidly and tried to guess the right answer. But the truth was, he had no idea, because Kimberly always handled these details. And there were a lot of details. Ed had been following him around the small parlor, firing question after question at him from the moment Greg had arrived.
“Umm … what did we do last time?”
Ed shook his head. “We didn’t have a suitable photograph for Mrs. Jordan, so there was no decision to make.”
“Oh.” Greg’s eyes darted, his gaze raced around the room and out into the hallway, where it landed on Kimberly trotting toward the open door, hugging her purse strap to her chest. He’d never been so glad to see her.
“Kim! Kimberly!” He didn’t shout, not exactly. But the volume and energy of his voice were discordant, at odds with the somber hushed tones that everyone else was using.
Ed raised an eyebrow, and Greg pretended not to notice as he waved his arms, crossing them overhead, as if he were a runway flagger and Kimberly was a Boeing 747. Kim pursed her lips disapprovingly and drew her eyebrows together as she hurried toward them.
“Greg, what on earth is wrong?” She asked, still clutching her purse.
“I’m just glad to see you. I know you put a lot of thought into the arrangements and I didn’t want to tell Ed something that isn’t in line with your vision. I think you should work with Ed on the final touches, not me.” He smiled, grateful that she was here to take over.
She smiled back, pleased that her contribution was being recognized. “Happy to.”
“Great. Here, give me your coat and bag and I’ll put them in the coatroom for you.”
“No!” She caught herself. “I mean, I’ll keep my purse. But, yes, please take my coat.” She managed to sidle out of the coat without putting down her bag, then draped the garment over his arm. “Thank you.”
