Page 49 of Memory of Murder
“I would watch myself where the senator is concerned,” Carin advised. “He’ll react strongly to such unfounded allegations.”
“What will he do?” Anne demanded, taking a step in the other woman’s direction. “Kill me too? He’s already started a fire at the hotel where we were staying. He has his thugs following us.”
Carin’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You never know what a cornered animal will do next.”
Anne smiled. “Good point because he is an animal. My mother isn’t the only woman he assaulted. But I’m guessing you knew that already.”
“Knowledge is power in the world of politics,” Jack noted.
Carin backed up a step. “I warn you—” she looked from one to the other “—do not go down this path. You will regret it.”
“A lot of people are going to have regrets when we’re done,” Anne tossed right back at her. “But it won’t be us. Believe that if you believe nothing else.”
“If only you had proof,” Carin bemoaned, then she laughed.
“You mean,” Anne suggested, “like the DNA of the person my mother feared might be my father after he assaulted her? I have the lab report. It’s all there.”
Red lips pursed in fury, Carin did an about-face and marched back to her extravagant automobile.
When she’d driven away, Jack turned to Anne and clapped his hands. “Very good. I doubt she’s been that rattled in decades.”
“Probably around three.” Anger stirred inside Anne. “I hope she rushes back to the Langstons and tells them every word we said.”
“We’re really going to have to watch our backs now,” he cautioned.
“If we shake them up enough, one of them is bound to get fired up and make a mistake.”
“That’s the part that worries me,” Jack confessed. “Like the woman said, when an animal gets cornered, you never know what it might do.”
Anne met his gaze once more. “I’m not afraid. Not with you on my side.”
He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “No fear, but we will proceed with extreme caution.”
Anne nodded, then looked at the headstone once more. A small flower arrangement had been tucked against it. The blooms had drooped and fallen free, and the leaves had withered and turned brown. She couldn’t help wondering who had brought the flowers. Mr. Reed, perhaps?
She crouched down and looked for a card. No card. The small bundle fell over, revealing something beneath it. The bronze color almost caused her to miss the roundish object. Anne tapped it and realized it was some sort of metal. She pulled it free of the dirt. Someone had partially buried it next to the headstone. There was an inscription.
Mary Morton.
Anne’s breath caught. Beneath the name was her date of birth and death as well asCremation Services of Crystal Lake. It was one of those mini urns…part of her mother’s ashes. But who put them here?
She pushed to her feet and showed the urn to Jack. “Someone brought her here.”
Anne had been told Mary was cremated, but she never asked what became of her remains. She hadn’t cared at the time.
But she cared now. Maybe her mother had one friend left in this town after all.
Jack pulled out his cell and tapped in a search. “They’re still open.” He looked to Anne. “We can see if they’ll tell us who picked up her ashes.”
“Let’s do it.”
Jack helped her to tuck the small urn next to the headstone and cover it properly. Anne dusted her hands off. At least her parents were together now.
Cremation Services
North Virginia Street, 5:30 p.m.
THE RATHER SMALLbrick building was nothing like a funeral home. There were no rooms for services related to viewings and funerals. This was a place where cremations were performed and a lobby where the ashes were picked up for whatever the family intended. Somewhere beyond the lobby was likely the business office.
