Page 123 of Passions in Death
With Peabody, Eve walked down to the vivid flowers with their bold scents and spoke with the grieving.
“Is there nothing?” Erin’s mother had given her daughter her eyes, and now they pleaded with Eve. “Nothing you can tell us?”
“I can tell you that Erin’s our priority, and we’re doing everything we can to find out who took her life, who took her from you.”
“She was so bright.” The mother looked toward the daughter’s portrait. “So bright and full of life.”
Her husband put his arm around her shoulders as they began to tremble. “Come on now. Let’s sit down a minute. Let’s sit down over here.”
People began to sprinkle in, so Eve signaled Peabody. They’d stand in the back. And they’d watch.
Angie walked straight over to Erin’s parents, embraced them both. And when Erin’s mother broke down, embraced her again, and just held on.
Donna came in, tears already streaming, with Glenda holding her hand.
It didn’t surprise her to see Crack and Rochelle come in, both in dark suits.
Becca came in, Greg’s arm around her waist as they made their way to Shauna. He held them both in a three-person hug, then kissed Shauna’s forehead.
He went to the refreshment table, poured two cups of tea, then walked back to them, urging them to take the cups.
Others came, a sprinkle, then a stream. Another older couple—Barney’s parents, Eve identified. They went straight to Shauna, then to her parents.
Others she recognized from the party, some of them with other women or with men, some alone. Voices murmured over the music.
She spotted Lopez’s grandmother, on the arm of a man with silver hair. And where was Lopez? she wondered.
“A lot of people,” Peabody commented. “I don’t recognize all of them.”
“There’s one who’s not here.”
“Yeah, I got that. Pretty strange if she doesn’t at least make an appearance.”
Marcus Stillwater rushed in, looked harassed. After a glance at Eve, he muttered, “Caught in traffic, damn it. Told them to leave without me, then got caught in traffic.”
He hurried to Shauna, embraced her, then her family, then others. Crack and Rochelle made their way to the back and Eve.
“A lot of people cared about that girl,” Crack said. “You’re going to find the one who didn’t.”
“Working on it.”
“The one who just came in? He’s doing the eulogy. Shauna said she asked him, as she knew he’d handle it. She tried to write something out but worried she’d just break.”
“Barely holding on now,” Rochelle murmured. “I just can’t imagine.”
Stillwater pinned on a mic and stepped to the front of the center of the room.
His voice came clear and just loud enough to cut through the murmurs and still them.
“On behalf of Erin’s family, Shauna and her family, thank you all for coming to remember Erin. I’m Marcus, and while I only knew Erin a little more than a year, she brought such light and love into my life.”
He spoke, and spoke well, of her as a friend, a woman, an artist. His words brought tears, a little laughter, more tears, and Eve thought probably comfort.
When he finished, he invited anyone who wanted to say a few words, tell a story, share their thoughts.
Angie spoke of their long friendship; Donna of Erin’s unshakable loyalty. Glenda added more about her talent and her verve.
Others shared personal stories.
