case I see that handsome detective again?” she asked her reflection.
The girl - no, the woman - in the mirror didn’t know.
Gemma didn’t have to be directed to the room where Santa was laid to rest. All she had to do was follow the line of women and the sound of soft weeping that spilled out into the hall. Rosalie stood nearby the casket with an older woman on either side of her. Gemma guessed they were her mother and ex mother-in-law. She had to keep reminding herself that they were divorced. The children, dressed in clean clothing played quietly on a seat nearby. They were probably too young to even understand what was going on.
The line to view Sam’s casket was long, which would give her plenty of time to survey the crowd without seeming too obvious. Mostly she saw women, old and young, all sizes and shapes, and they seemed to be taking Sam’s death harder than Rosalie.
“See anyone you recognize?” It was Ross, his rumbling voice right at her ear.
Gemma yelped in surprise and then clapped both hands over her mouth when she noticed several of the other ladies glaring at her. “You scared me,” she hissed.
“I like scaring you,” Ross teased.
“I’m guessing you’re just here to pay your respects,” he said as they moved forward together a few feet.
“”Of course,” Gemma assured him. “Just like you.”
“I’m here doing my job,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back as he moved in close behind her. “Now, do you see anyone you recognize?”
Gemma scanned the crowd, trying to ignore the heat spreading outward from his fingers. “Grady Jackson near the back of the room,” she reported.
“I think he’s here trying to do my job,” Ross told her. “Anyone else?”
“Lots and lots of women,” Gemma said.
“No Bill or Edna Chambers?” he asked.
Gemma shook her head. “None of the elves from Santa Land either.”
“Good job,” he whispered.
Gemma felt pretty proud of herself.
“So it looks like this might have been a waste of my time,” he whispered.
“Not really. I have something I forgot to tell you at lunch the other day,” Gemma said as they moved forward again, inching closer and closer to that casket. She did everything she could not to look at it or think about what lay ahead.
“Oh, yeah?” Ross asked, leaning in closer, his hand on her waist now.
Gemma nodded and smiled at the little girl who had almost found her step-father strangled to death in his Santa costume. “The day Santa, Sam, was killed, Bill told me Edna stayed home because she was under the weather.”
“She always looks a little frail and just tired to me,” Ross said.
“But when I spoke with her the next day and asked how she was feeling, she said she’d never been sick. That Bill insisted she stay at home,” Gemma said, glancing up to see Ross’s reaction.
He was smiling down at her, the little lines beside his eyes deepening, making him look even more attractive. “Good work, Deputy Stone.”
“I thought you’d be interested to know that. I certainly was,” she said.
The casket was just about ten feet away by this time. The line was getting shorter. Every once in a while some woman would wail and fall into a faint, only to be rescued by her friends and frowned upon by the other ladies in the room.
“I need to ask you something while we’re comparing notes,” he said.
“Ask away,” Gemma said, her heart pounding harder as they stepped closer to the casket.
“Why wasn’t the shoplifting reported to the police?”
The question brought her up short and she looked at him again. “We were told it would be, in due time.”
“Who told you this?”
“Grady Jackson.”
“Really?”
“They were going to be on the lookout. When they caught the thief red handed, they were going to hand him over to the authorities,” Gemma explained.
Two steps and they would be even with the casket. Gemma was glad Ross had not moved his hand. She was glad he was right