So About the Money (15 page)

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Authors: Cathy Perkins

BOOK: So About the Money
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Holly knew she had to quit worrying about the wake, but the alternatives were even less appealing. Stress about work. Get upset about Marcy. Think about running into JC again. She didn’t need the emotional whipsaw. With everything going on in her life, she was already arguing with herself on a daily basis. She glanced at Laurie. “Do you ever feel schizophrenic?”

“I assume there was a progression through that labyrinth you call your brain—you know, traffic to work to books to mental illness—but what are you talking about?” Laurie tugged her seatbelt and turned toward her. “And it better not involve my dog.”

Holly moved into the right lane, letting the SUV crowding her bumper pass. “My life was already complicated. I have my screwed-up family, nine million clients, my house, pressure to bring in work. But all this stuff with Marcy, I can’t get it out of my head. One minute, I’m trying to explain cost averaging to one of the staff and the next, I’m back in that clearing. Seeing Marcy’s body…those horrible birds.” A shudder crawled across her shoulders and down her spine.

“It must have been awful.” Laurie reached across the center console and touched her arm.

Holly blinked back tears, concentrated on the turn at Queensgate.
Focus on what you’re doing. On moving forward. On what you have to work through.
She released a stabilizing breath. “I’ve looked at a few things, but I’m not getting very far investigating Marcy’s death. JC showed up at the office again yesterday with more questions.”
 

“Oh, really?” Laurie raised an eyebrow.

“Do not start with me. The man’s ruining my business.”
 

“What do you mean?” Concern replaced the smartass expression.

Grimacing, Holly drove across the Yakima River bridge. “You saw the newspaper, the Person of Interest thing?”

Laurie nodded.

“That’s bad enough—it’s worried a few clients. But the way JC keeps coming around, pushing me, he suspects something. Not necessarily me, but…something. He had the nerve to ask for Tim and Alex’s financial statements—without a warrant.”
 

“Can you do that? At the hospital we have all kinds of rules about not handing out medical records.”

“Same privacy issue. JC didn’t offer specifics, but if something
is
going on with Alex and Tim, and indirectly, Marcy, JC thinks I’m the link.”
 

“You
are
sort of in the middle of the triangle.”

She made a noise of frustration. “Alex is hell-bent on drawing a triangle that includes him, JC, and me. When Alex showed up today, he really and truly pissed me off.”

“What did he do this time?”

If she hadn’t been driving, she’d have closed her eyes and groaned. She recounted the ridiculous argument.
 

A thoughtful expression twisted Laurie’s lips. “Alex could be one of those guys who thinks the only way to communicate is to yell, fight, and then make up.”

“That is
so
not me.” The car tires hummed over the Columbia River bridge. The three cities—Richland, Kennewick, and Pasco—climbed the barren hills where the Columbia, Snake, and Yakima rivers flowed together. The rivers created lovely vistas but made getting from place to place a challenge. “I don’t know if there even
is
a relationship at this point. I’m seeing a side of Alex I don’t like.”
 

“If you’re going to kick him to the curb, at least you have JC waiting in the wings.”

“Laurie.” Holly scowled at her friend.
 

“Just sayin’.” Laurie raised her hands in surrender. “Beats sleeping alone.”
 

“Well…I never slept with Alex.”

 
Laurie stared at her for a long moment. “You mean, you haven’t…? Hot Latin man? What is
wrong
with you?”

Holly shifted her shoulders defensively. “Casual sex… Not happening. Learned that early on from the crew I run with in Seattle.”
 

“I thought you love Seattle and your job there.”
 

“I do. The M&A work’s exciting. I work with smart people. But that’s the downside, too.”

“Why?”

“They know they’re smart. Some of them are complete assholes. They think they’re more important than the rest of the world.” She shrugged. “They’re my crowd—accountants, attorneys, investment bankers, venture capitalists—but you can’t get close to them. Not and survive.”

“You never hooked up?”

“No way. First of all, you never know whose corner they’re going to be in on the next deal. And these guys are serious about only one thing—money. Well, two things—money and themselves. They wouldn’t put ‘woman’ and ‘responsibility’ in the same sentence. If I want to get laid, it won’t be with someone who’ll try to embarrass or manipulate me later.”
 

“Sounds…lonely.”

Holly studied the lights of Pasco and thought about Laurie’s comment. “Lonely is probably why I started dating Alex in the first place.”

“If it doesn’t connect, it doesn’t connect.”

“That about covers it. He’s fun.” She shrugged. “We might’ve had a chance if it wasn’t for his family.”

“People come with baggage.”

Didn’t she know it.

The Road 66 off-ramp—the exit for Alex’s restaurant—appeared on the side of the Interstate. “His family is so involved with the restaurant, I’ve spent more time with them than you normally would at this stage. His mother’s made it real clear she hates me. The rest seem to be either in her camp or ready to plan the wedding next week.”

Laurie nodded. “That’s a lot of pressure when you’re getting to know someone.”

The next exit sign—downtown Pasco—reminded Holly of Monday’s bombshell. She filled Laurie in on what Yessica had told her. “I had no idea Marcy’s marriage was such a disaster. Now I feel like a bitch because I was always talking about going back to Seattle. At the same time, I understand, at least a little, what she went through. I could’ve helped. Or at least been there for her.”
 

“Yet another thing Marcy was hiding,” Laurie said.
 

Holly’s defensive hackles rose. “I’m hurt she didn’t trust me, but I understand why she didn’t tell us. I didn’t want everyone to know about the crap I went through with Frank.”

Laurie was quiet for so long, Holly turned to stare at her. “What?”

“You do realize, if you go back to Seattle, Frank will still be there.”

Holly digested the comment. She’d managed to effectively ignore that detail in her “Get back to Seattle” campaign.
 

From the corner of her eye, she saw her friend studying her and wondered what was behind all the comments.
 

She had a sinking feeling its initials were “J” and “C.”
 

Chapter Fourteen

“There it is.” Laurie pointed to a low-slung, red brick building. They’d gotten lost twice and cruised Lewis and Court Streets four times before they found the right cross street.
 

Neither ventured into downtown Pasco very often. Their usual hangouts—wineries near their houses, a few music places, a couple of favorite restaurants—were across the Columbia River in Richland.
 

Holly peered at the discreet, nearly impossible to read from the street, placard. “Are you sure? I sorta expected a Gothic manor.”

“You’ve watched too many
Six Feet Under
reruns.”

“Like I have time to watch TV.” She entered the crowded parking lot. “It must be packed inside.”

She cruised through the lanes, looking for an open slot. She paused beside a Dumpster and sized up the possibilities. “Think I’ll get towed if I block it?”

Laurie eyed the big green box instead of the open space. “What do you think they throw in there?”

“Thanks for that image.” Holly drove to the far side of the lot and tucked the BMW into a nonexistent space, close to a graffiti-covered building.

They studied the tags, then exchanged a glance. “The lot’s pretty well lit,” Holly ventured.
 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Laurie slid out into the twelve inches between the BMW and the adjacent car. “Can you imagine working in a funeral parlor?”
 

They both shuddered.
 

“I’d always halfway expect something to jump out of a coffin,” Holly said.
 

Laurie hitched her purse over her shoulder. “Or creepy music to play, and this guy who looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in twenty years to appear out of nowhere.”
 

Holly stopped on the walkway leading to the narrow porch and stared at the funeral home. The place looked like an office building.
 

Ordinary. Well lit. Crowded.
 

Huh.

“We have to go in now, don’t we?”
 

Laurie sighed. “Yeah.”

“Do you have any idea what we’re supposed to do?”

They moved toward the entrance, shoes clicking against the concrete walkway. “My grandmother died a couple of years ago,” Laurie said. “Everybody signed a book.”

“You mean, like at a wedding? That’s disturbing.”

“That way, the family knows who was there. There’s usually a line of relatives near the casket you’re supposed to talk to.” Laurie’s mouth twisted in an uncertain frown. “Although I wonder if the police released her body yet.”

“Maybe there won’t be a casket.” Holly fervently hoped if the casket was there, it would be closed, and that some mortician hadn’t tried to put Marcy’s face back together.
 

Laurie readjusted her purse strap. “Anyway, after you talk to the relatives, you hang around a while. Pray. Meditate.”
 

Holly’s heart sank to somewhere near her toes. She was so not ready for this. What was she supposed to say to a bunch of people she didn’t know?
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. God, but I’m so sorry
?
 

She followed Laurie up the stairs, wishing she hadn’t worn high heels. Apparently, she was going to spend the next few hours both physically
and
emotionally uncomfortable.

Laurie opened the door and they entered the crowded foyer. People Holly didn’t recognize clustered in tight knots, talking in low voices. She didn’t see the book Laurie mentioned, the Ramirez family, or anybody who might tell them what they were supposed to do next.
 

Holly searched the crowd and spotted Rick near the door to an interior room. He caught her eye and tilted his head. The women eased through the crowd toward him.
 

“Is that Rick Stewert? When you said he was working at DA, you didn’t tell me he’d gotten so cute.” Laurie smoothed her skirt and tucked her hair behind her ear. “How do I look?”

“You can’t go out with him. He works for me. It’ll be messy when you break up.”

“What do you care? You’ll be long gone before we get to that stage.”

As soon as they reached Rick, he said, “Laurie Gordon? I thought you moved to Portland.”

“I’ve been back a while. I can’t believe we haven’t run into each other.”
 

Laurie gave her a look that said,
Why didn’t you tell him I was back?
 

Before Laurie and Rick could start flirting, Holly asked, “Have you seen Marcy’s family?”

“In there.” Rick hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the doorway behind him.
 

“Where?” She craned her neck and looked past him at the throng.
 

“Far side of the room. Most of them are sitting down. Tim and Nicole are here somewhere.”

Holly looked around the crowded room but didn’t see the couple.
 

“Good luck finding them.” Rick smiled at Laurie. “We need to get together and catch up. It was great seeing you again, but I am outta here.”
 

He turned to Holly. “For the record”—he checked the crowd, the expression on his face somewhere between horrified and overwhelmed—“I want to be cremated when I die. And no funeral service. Just say nice things when you dump my ashes in the Columbia River.”

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