Dooley Is Dead Read online

  “Trev, what are you doing here?” Ginny retreated several paces as Trevor moved into the kitchen.

  “Better question is, what are you doing here? I never expected to see you again.” He peeked at Diana as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He was unsure how much to reveal in the presence of a stranger. Then he focused back on Ginny. “Maynard and Paula said you came looking for me last night.”

  “I was worried.” Suddenly Ginny took Trevor’s hand. “God, I’m so sorry about what happened to Lori. I can’t imagine…”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, too,” Diana said. “Her death was a horrible thing.”

  But Trevor held up one hand in a silent plea. He wanted them to stop the condolences. And at this close range, Diana noticed the man’s gorgeous eyes were rimmed with red as he brushed self-consciously at the lapels of his suit.

  “Have you been to church?” Ginny was obviously at a loss for words.

  Trevor’s laugh was bitter. “Since when do I go to church? No, I’ve been across the street from the church, though, to the damned funeral parlor.”

  Both Diana and Ginny muttered they were sorry.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Diana felt his curiosity as she inched towards the refrigerator. Clearly Trevor had not anticipated finding an unknown woman in Matthew’s home.

  “No, ma’am, I can’t stay.”

  “Diana is Dad’s girlfriend.” Ginny blurted it out. “She lives here now.”

  “No kidding?” Trevor’s amazing eyes widened in surprise and a smile tugged at the corners of his expressive mouth. “I never expected Trout…”

  “Never mind.” Diana cut him off as her neck and face burned. She could have cheerfully murdered Ginny at that moment, because she hate being cast in the role of an on-site mistress. No matter how open-minded Trevor Dula might be, she hated living in sin. “Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”

  ”No thanks, really. I need to get home. But I do want to talk to Ginny.”

  Okay, Diana could take a hint. But before she could excuse herself and hide out in Matthew’s bedroom, Ginny captured Trevor’s arm and led him through the living room towards the door to the lake.

  “We’ll talk down on the dock, Diana,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you, Diana,” Trevor called as they left.

  Now what? Diana’s heart raced as she watched them stroll out onto the pier. Was she simply embarrassed, or frightened by Trevor’s sudden appearance in their lives? Something about the man was deeply disturbing, and it wasn’t just the animal magnetism that made him sexually attractive. Was it the raw grief she’d seen in his eyes? Trevor’s manner was gentle, his bearing almost apologetic as he arrived, and yet… She sensed something hard and cold beneath his polite surface, as though he had two personalities. She had been following the news since the murder and knew Trevor was a decorated war veteran, the recipient of a Purple Heart, a hero by any measure.

  But hadn’t his military background trained him to kill? Who knew what atrocities he had seen or perpetrated while in Iraq and Afghanistan. Maybe he suffered from PTSD? What if the man on the dock with Ginny was a murderer?

  Diana watched the couple’s body language as they talked. God knew the pair had a lot of catching up to do, lots of blanks to fill in, so no wonder they were waving their arms and gesturing. Trevor ran his hands through his thick black hair. He pulled Ginny into his arms and held her.

  Diana panicked. Should she call the police? Surely Matthew had seen Trevor’s Jeep pass them on the road? She felt jittery and helpless. She felt like a voyeur. So that by the time Matthew and Lissa returned on their bikes, she was enormously relieved. Matthew spotted the Jeep instantly, and his expression changed from joy to anger as he sent Lissa inside and began stomping through the yard to the dock.

  Trevor lifted his head, like a stallion scenting the breeze, sensing trouble. Ginny quickly pulled from his embrace, and Diana was grateful that at least the former lovers had not been kissing when Matthew saw them. She braced herself for a confrontation that never came. Instead, everyone smiled. Matthew shook Trevor’s hand, and then all three began walking back through the grass to the parking area.

  “Who’s that man with Mommy?” Lissa asked.

  “He’s an old friend of your mother’s.”

  “I want to meet him!”

  Before she could stop her, Lissa dashed out the back door and hurled herself at Ginny just as the trio arrived at the Jeep. As Diana emerged, she realized the outward cordiality she’d witnessed down at the dock was an illusion, because the hostility in the air was palpable. Hopefully exuberant little Lissa would improve that atmosphere.

  “Hi, Mommy. Does the man want to see me ride my new bike?”

  The look on Trevor’s face could only be described as shock when Lissa jumped away from Ginny and landed at his feet, hands on her hips, her gap-toothed grin wide and expectant.

  “Who are you, honey?” he asked.

  “Melissa Troutman. I’m six years old today.”

  Trevor blinked in confusion as he looked to Ginny. “I didn’t know you were married.”

  Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m not. It’s a long story.”

  Diana held her breath. Obviously the short conversation on the dock had not filled in all the blanks.

  “So, you wanna ride bikes with me?” The child was not to be deterred.

  Trevor touched the child’s hair and smiled. He glanced at Matthew standing disapprovingly, his arms crossed as he frowned.

  “Not today, honey.” Trevor quickly walked to his car and climbed inside. Moments later he was gone.

  NINETEEN

  Life cycles…

  Trevor had asked Ginny to attend Lori’s funeral, but when the Friday morning of the service arrived, rainy and cold for May, Ginny panicked and decided not to go. Diana had agreed to take her and was already dressed in her somber navy blue suit with matching pumps.

  “You can’t back out now, Ginny. Trevor’s depending on you.”

  “Not really.” She pouted. “You’re the one with a morbid fixation on this murder, so you go without me.”

  Diana heard too much truth in Ginny’s words. Somehow being at Lori Fowler’s that fateful morning, knowing two of the principals involved, had peaked her curiosity. Matthew had often accused her of having a nose for trouble, or worse, sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong, and this time he was right.

  “Look, you still have time to get ready, Ginny, so I’ll have a cup of coffee, then wait for you in the car.”

  As usual, Matthew had opted to stay behind and entertain Lissa. Today they planned to try out the new art supplies and paint watercolors together.

  “Don’t hold your breath, Diana. Ginny won’t come. And by the way, why are you going?” Matthew had sneaked up behind her. He fixed her with his warm brown eyes and swallowed some coffee.

  Diana thought fast. “I already promised Liz and Danny I’d be there. Danny was one of Lori’s admirers. He had even been invited to Lori’s wedding, so they are going.”

  “Whatever.” Matthew shrugged, strode to the sink, rinsed out his cup. Conversation over.

  As Diana walked to Queen Vic, the damp air smelled of pinesap and mist rose off the lake. The odd chill clung to her linen jacket, so once she settled in the car, she turned on the heat. She’d give Ginny ten minutes and prayed she would come, because so far the girl had not been remotely forthcoming about anything involving the murder. And while Ginny was proving to be as stubborn and tight-lipped as her father, Diana had hoped to coax out some information during the ride to the church.

  She checked her watch, gave up, twisted the ignition, and was just backing out of the driveway when Ginny burst out the back door.

  “Hey, wait up!”

  Matthew’s daughter had thrown together an outfit that was more than appropriate for the solemn occasion. Her long skirt, boots, and peasant shawl were all black--- what Liz would call her “Goth Girl” look. Diana was especially thank
ful to see she had limited her makeup and removed the silver nose stud.

  “Do I look okay?” She jerked the passenger door open and slid in next to Diana.

  “You look fine. Let’s go.”

  But clearly Ginny was not in the mood for conversation. As soon as they were on the road, she punched on the radio. It was preset to Diana’s favorite classical music, but Ginny immediately switched to heavy metal.

  “Not happening.” Diana changed back to classical.

  “Whatever.” Ginny clammed up, and Diana realized they were in for a silent, blessedly short journey.

  The heavy rain began about the time they crossed the Perth Road bridge. It sluiced in noisy waves across the water’s surface, transforming their world to a blinding gray fog. Diana turned on her headlights and the defroster as the atmosphere inside the car became hot, moist, and oppressive.

  “Too bad, today of all days,” Diana said. “There’s nothing more depressing than a burial in the rain.”

  “No burial,” Ginny mumbled. “Trev said Lori would be cremated.”

  “Really?” Diana turned the wipers to high and hunched over the steering wheel so she could see.

  “Yeah, they sent her body to the medical examiner in Raleigh for an autopsy. He cut her all up to determine cause of death. Maybe they figured it was better to carry her ashes home in a box, rather than bury the pieces.”

  The coffee in Diana’s stomach roiled as she glanced at Ginny. Was the girl unbelievably insensitive, or simply horrified by these details? “So, what was the cause of death?”

  “Duh. She was stabbed through the heart.”

  Diana decided she preferred it when they did not talk. She made the turn onto Main Street in Troutman and started looking for the turnoff to the Lutheran church, where Matthew was a member. She and Matthew were nominal Christians at best, but she had attended services with him on Christmas Eve and had even met the young pastor.

  At the turn, she noticed the funeral home was right across the street, just like Trevor had said. How convenient. Now if only there were a small community hospital nearby, where babies could be born, then folks from Trinity Lutheran could tend to all their life cycle needs, corporal and spiritual, in one easy block.

  The church lot was full, so Diana was forced to select a space not far from the front door, a location usually reserved for the deceased’s immediate family. She parked directly beside a Davidson police car and groaned inwardly. Surely the cops weren’t required today, but who knew? She looked at the colorful array of bobbing umbrellas clustered at the entrance and found them incongruous and wrong somehow. Stupidly, she and Ginny had come without one.

  “Let’s make a run for it,” she said.

  “Sure, why not?”

  By the time they pushed inside the crowded vestibule, Diana’s short white hair and Ginny’s black punk cut were wetly plastered to their cheeks. But they had no time for a visit to the ladies’ room and a touch-up, because the organ had already begun to play.

  “Where should we sit?” Diana wondered as they crept dripping into the chapel. It seemed the mourners had self-segregated, with friends and neighbors of Lori’s on the left and the older church regulars on the right. Way up front on the right, Diana spotted Trevor Dula seated with two others. He seemed very much alone and ill at ease in spite of his companions. As usual, the church was packed from the back forward, forcing Diana and Ginny to move up front.

  “Aw shit,” Ginny muttered as they walked forward. “Everyone’s staring at us.”

  “No, they’re not,” Diana assured her, but then she noticed Lieutenant Peter Sokolsky seated in the back row, and he was indeed watching them pass. Today he had put aside his baggy trousers and flashy Hawaiian shirt in favor of a conservative dark suit. His wolf-like eyes scanned the crowd.

  She also noticed a young deputy from Iredell County standing in the back of the church. He seemed ill-at-ease, arms crossed and shifting from foot to foot as he surveyed the congregation.

  Young Billy, the boy from Lori’s neighborhood, was also in attendance. His curly blond hair was freshly cut and he sat ramrod straight, looking scared and uncertain. She also saw her partner Liz’s red head, along with her boyfriend Danny’s curly brown one, lifted above the crowd and was relieved to spot someone she knew. They noticed Diana at exactly the same moment, and Danny beckoned Diana and Ginny to come join them.

  “Those are my friends Liz and Danny,” she told the girl. “Do you want to sit with them?”

  Much to Diana’s surprise, Ginny took her elbow and steered her forward. “No, let’s sit near Trev, he needs our support.”

  They moved into a pew directly behind Ginny’s old boyfriend and took a seat. When Ginny tapped Trevor on the shoulder, he turned around and offered a weak, grateful smile. If anything, Trevor’s eyes looked worse today than they had last Sunday when he visited them at the lake. They were bloodshot, haunted, and somehow unconnected to his tragic, present reality. Although the man was stunningly handsome in his dark suit and patterned maroon tie, his curly black hair was rain-soaked and his spirit was elsewhere.

  A tough-looking young blond woman sat close beside him, her thick hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her heavily made-up face had wilted in the rain and her hard green eyes stared at the altar, where a small wooden box was prominently displayed. The box sat on a table covered with a white silk holy cloth and was flanked by burning candles. Undoubtedly it contained Lori’s ashes.

  Ginny whispered into Diana’s ear. “The woman is Paula Dula. She’s Lori’s cousin.”

  The man seated beside Paula was considerably older than his two companions. He had long, flowing silver hair, which matched his carefully trimmed beard and moustache. He was dressed in a neatly pressed black dress shirt, and in place of a tie, wore a silver crucifix encrusted with turquoise around his neck.

  “The man is Maynard Dula. He’s Paula’s husband, and also Trev’s uncle,” Ginny whispered again.

  Diana’s mind wandered as the pastor delivered the eulogy. She figured the people with Trevor were the folks with whom Ginny had spent Saturday night. She also assumed that many of the attendees, mostly women, seated on the Lori side of the church were the do-gooders from the many charities Lori had worked with. According to the pastor, the deceased had not held a job, so she had devoted herself to fund-raising for various worthy causes. Had Lori been independently wealthy? Most likely, when one considered her expensive home in Highland Gardens. How had she hooked up with a war vet like Trevor? They seemed an unlikely pair.

  As Diana’s mind ran wild with hapless speculation, she mouthed the words when they stood for the closing hymn. They remained standing while the minister said a final prayer, telling the murdered girl to rest in peace. He picked up the wooden box and nodded, signaling Trevor and Paula to come forward. He placed the box into Trevor’s hands.

  As Lori Fowler’s two loved ones carried her ashes down the aisle, the rest of the congregation watched their progress. Was it Diana’s imagination, or was Paula Dula clinging too possessively to Trevor’s arm? While his eyes were blurred by tears, Paula’s eyes were adoringly fixed on her husband’s nephew’s face.

  It was not Diana’s imagination when Lieutenant Sokolsky slipped into the procession behind Trevor and followed him into the vestibule, out of sight. At the same time, Danny Cappelli, Liz’s boyfriend, struggled out of his pew and rushed ahead of the other parishioners who had begun to file into the aisle.

  “What’s happening?” Ginny craned her neck to see what was causing the commotion in the vestibule. They heard voices raised in anger, and then Maynard Dula jumped from his seat and ran towards the voices. Suddenly everyone wanted to leave at once, pushing and shoving to be the first out, first to satisfy his curiosity.

  Rain hammered the roof, and Diana was momentarily paralyzed by the unseemly stampede. Liz then appeared in the aisle and waved cheerily to Diana.

  “Where was Danny going in such a hurry?” Diana demanded.

  Liz wi
nked. “Call of nature,” she answered before being swept away in the tide of people.

  By the time Diana and Ginny got out, Danny was just emerging from the men’s restroom. Diana grabbed his sleeve. “What’s going on?”

  “I had to pee,” he answered in typical Danny fashion.

  “Look outside, Diana.” Liz materialized at her side and pointed to where the Iredell County deputy was leading Trevor towards his squad car. It appeared Trevor’s hands were cuffed in front of him as the deputy opened the rear door, placed a protective hand on Trevor’s head, eased his prisoner into a seat, and closed the door.

  At the same time, an irate Lieutenant Sokolsky stood at the sidelines fuming. Apparently he had lost the jurisdictional pissing contest.

  In the meantime, Paula stood in the downpour clutching the little wooden box, while Maynard shook his fists and shouted obscenities at the top of his lungs. Ginny looked like she was about to faint, so Diana lowered her to a bench.

  “Why is he taking Trev?” Ginny moaned.

  “I was right here when it happened,” Danny said importantly. “That deputy read the Miranda rights, then arrested the guy.”

  “But why?” Ginny said.

  “For Lori Fowler’s murder.”

  TWENTY

  Trust, but verify…

  Saturday morning the sun came out and the world was fresh-washed and new. At least that was the hopeful tone Diana tried to impose upon the family as they sat down to breakfast. The adults were glum and silent after a difficult evening and sleepless night. The story of Trevor’s arrest dominated the local news, and whenever Ginny caught sight of the television, she paced, ranted, and bit her purple fingernails to the nub.

  Matthew sought to avoid the topic altogether, yet it was clear he thought Trevor was guilty. Only Lissa remained oblivious. She ran outside to practice riding her bicycle, with Ursie in tow.

  Finally Diana, having exhausted her supply of false good cheer, decided to escape the tension.