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"Sure," I mumbled. I had to get it together and start to piece together the facts, in order to find Francesca's murderer. Detective Wurkowski seemed obsessed with me as a suspect. I knew I hadn't done it. So if I didn't find out who was the murderer, who would?
"Why don't you get Ken to give you something to relax," Mark said.
What I needed instead of medication was for someone to tell me this was some huge tragic mistake. That Francesca was alive, and that life was fine. Back to normal. Quiet. Peaceful.
"A Prozac or Valium would help you through this shock," Mark continued.
"Drugs? Sure, that'll solve this whole mess. Just pop a pretty little pill and all my troubles will go floating away on a cloud of numbness." I realized I was almost yelling. "I'm sorry for yelling Mark."
"You're under a lot of stress," he said.
"Maybe you're right. I should go home for a while," I said.
"After all, you're going through all the normal stages of grieving. I can help you, I'm a--"
"MIT. Got it." I scrunched my eyebrows. "You have her head?"
"Yes," he said. "And, thanks to you I pa.s.sed my exam. Which means I will be in charge of her, um, remains."
"Don't you have connections at the hospital? What did they say the cause of death was?"
Mark paused. Then looked down at his feet. "Do you really want to know?"
"I can guess."
"What I've heard from my inside connections, is that the cause of death was a sharp object that severed her body from her head. So far they haven't found any additional head trauma," Mark said.
"Getting her head cut off was enough trauma," I added. My head felt foggy, and my gut wretched.
"There might be other causes of death. Like maybe drugs in her system, or caused from a fight or fall, or gunshot. Or some type of accident."
"How could Francesca's death ever make sense? If it was an accident, then it's still tragic. But if it was caused at the hands of someone else, then that's too appalling to imagine," I said.
He reached over and put his hand on my arm. "Go home. I'll call you later. Whatever happened, or whoever did this will be found out soon."
"I'm telling you now, her killer should be treated the same way she was. I know that sounds awful, but I'm so mad. So terribly p.i.s.sed off at what happened to her I just can't think straight," I said as I clenched my hands.
"Listen, we all want the killer locked up," Mark said.
Did Mark understand I was not involved in Francesca's murder? I realized that Detective Wurkowski thought I was, but I hoped no one else would ever think that. "Mark you know I would never kill anyone?" At least not on purpose. "Don't you?" I looked at him for agreement.
"Of course. And that's exactly what I told the police this morning," Mark said.
"The police?" Good gracious.
"Yeah. They've been questioning everyone who was at H&K's last night," Mark said.
A dread swept over me as I clenched my hands. "What exactly did they ask you?"
Mark adjusted his baseball cap. "Oh, what time I was at H&K's. If I saw Francesca. What we talked about. What time we last saw her. Who she was with, you know, that kind of stuff."
"And you said you told them I wouldn't kill anyone?"
"Well not like that, they asked about your relations.h.i.+p with Francesca. I told them that you were once best friends. How you were short with her at H&K's, like you were angry or something," he said.
"You told the police all that too?" I asked.
"I didn't want to commit perjury," he said.
"Perjury? Mark, you're not in court under oath." I realized I was getting annoyed with him.
"I'm sorry, but it's the police." Mark shrugged his shoulders.
"No. It's fine Mark. You must tell the truth. I'm glad you did." It's all so very horrible. So very, very, very horrible.
"Anyway, I think they cleared me." Mark raked his hand through his mop of red hair.
"Of course. They're just doing their job." Not if they're pinning Francesca's murder on me.
Police yellow crime tape was still strung around the pavilion area. A crowd of people milled about. The television station's truck was parked next to the squad cars.
What would help now were answers. I sighed.
Mark pointed to the crowd. "It's a zoo around here isn't it? I think it'll be like this for a while. It's not every day you get the mayor's daughter's decapitated head floating in the lake. Or any head for that matter."
"Mark, I can't believe you just said that."
"Sorry, sometimes I have no filter." He shrugged.
"You can say that again, but please don't." I gave him a hug. "I'm spent. I'm heading home. Catch you later."
"I'm so glad you're home sweetie," Estelle said. I've been crying and cooking all day. I just can't get my mind off of poor Francesca. The phone's been ringing off the hook, and reporters and police have been here all morning. Oh my goodness. I think I smell something burning." She grabbed my arm and steered me into the kitchen.
"Who called? What do they want?" It didn't look like I was going to get any rest.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
"Can you get that dear? I have to see if I can salvage my lasagna," Estelle said to me as she opened the oven and smoke billowed out.
The fire alarm beeped. I cracked the back door to let in fresh air then grabbed a broom and smacked the alarm until it turned off. The doorbell continued to chime. I walked to the front of the house and opened the door. Mayor Pike stood on the front porch.
"CiCi, please excuse my poor manners, coming here unannounced. I was just at the Cathedral and pa.s.sing by on my way home. Is this a good time?" he asked. His thick chestnut hair had slight graying on the temples. He looked like an aged version of JFK Jr.
It's an awful time. "No, please come on in. Can I get you something?"
His nostrils flared. "Is there a fire?"
"Estelle's cooking," I said.
"I can't stay long, so let me just ask you quickly," he said. "I'm not sure how to say this. So I'll just come right out and ask. I need someone to give a eulogy, and I want you to do it."
"Me?" my voice rose.
"Yes. You were her best friend. I don't know anyone who knew her as well as you did." His eyes welled up. He paused and took a deep breath. "Would you please consider it?"
Estelle walked in the room. "Welcome mayor. We're so very sorry for your loss. It's shocking. I can't imagine what you're going through."
Mayor Pike cleared his throat and smiled. "Thank you for the delicious cake. You're one incredible cook."
Didn't he smell the burnt lasagna?
"We're so sorry." Estelle wiped her red swollen eyes.
The mayor walked over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's surreal, I feel like I'm running on autopilot, going through the motions. Afraid that if I sat still too long, I would crumble from the weight of what's happened."
"I can't even think about it. I just can't," Estelle added. "I want to help you out. Is there anything at all I can do?"
"Yes. Actually, I stopped by because I want CiCi to say the eulogy at Francesca's memorial service," Mayor Pike said.
"She'd be honored." Estelle clasped her hands together.
No I'm not. "I not sure that I'm the right person for such an honor."
"Don't be silly mayor, you can count on her. It's the least we can do." Estelle pulled me close to her and squeezed my shoulder.
"Thank you. I'll call you later with details of the service." Mayor Pike stepped out the door onto the porch.
"Don't trouble yourself. We'll get all the information from Father O'Doul. You probably have so much to take care of," Estelle said.
"Yes, I do. Thank you again for everything." The mayor turned and stepped away.
Pa.s.sing Mayor Pike on the sidewalk was Jacob. They exchanged nods. My stomach flipped and my heart raced at the sight of Jacob.
"Good afternoon Ms. Andrews, Ms. Coe," Jacob said as he stood on the front porch and greeted us.
I smiled.
"We seem to travel in the same circles." He winked at me.
"I'd say you were stalking me." I smiled.
"Now CiCi, this nice young man is no stalker. He's the carpenter I hired to fix the banister," Estelle said.
"I didn't mean that he was a real stalker. It's just that we keep running into each other," I added.
"It's been my pleasure," Jacob said.
Looking from Jacob and then to me, Estelle added, "I'll just leave you two young kids alone to chat."
"That's alright. I'll let Jacob do his work." It was obvious that Estelle wanted to play matchmaker. She didn't like the fact that Ken changed from being a once doting boyfriend to the current workaholic. "I need to talk to you anyway," I said to Estelle as I guided her inside.
Glancing over my shoulder I saw that Jacob had already began work on the porch banister.
"What do you mean I would be honored to give the eulogy?" I said throwing my hands up in the air. "I don't even know her anymore. I can't do it."
"Of course you can. You have to. I mean there is so much you can say. Why don't you remember all the years you were best friends," Estelle pleaded. "Maybe tell stories of her. You have a lot. Remember your fifth birthday and how she made you that jewelry box with hearts all over? She was always doing things for others. Oh and all the animals she rescued, and how she never had a frown. She lived life to the fullest, didn't she? There are so many stories. Hey what about the concert for her eighteenth birthday? I'm sure that was a great night too, wasn't it sweetie?"
Oh sure. And I could hear the eulogy now: "Good day ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, neighbors. I know we are all gathered here to honor Francesca Pike's life. There are only a handful of people who come into your world, and touch your life in a dramatic fas.h.i.+on. I can honestly say that there are only a few people who have walked into my life and changed it forever. Yes, Francesca and I were best friends doing all the things best friends do together. Like skinning knees while playing hopscotch, or learning to ride a bike, getting into a few fender benders learning to drive. Shopping for prom dresses, figuring the ins and outs of guys and dating. Yes, there were countless memories of laughter and adventure with her. Oh, and we killed someone together. Yes, we had a h.e.l.l of a night on her eighteenth birthday..."
Chapter Thirteen.
While Jacob hammered on the front porch, I helped Estelle clean the kitchen and salvage her burnt lasagna. Afterward, Estelle left for the Cathedral to light candles for Francesca's soul, and get information from Father O'Doul on Francesca's memorial service.
Lying on my bed, Skipper at my side softly snoring, the ceiling fan gently humming, I tried to sort out my life. All the while I was thinking of Francesca's death and her eulogy.
My cell rang. The caller ID lit up. It was Ken. "Hi."
"Hi Babe, I finally got a hold of you. How are you?" he said.
Really s.h.i.+tty. "Fine. And you?"
"Fine. I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend much time together recently. I promise I'll make it up to you."
"Don't worry. You're busy. We'll have plenty of time in the future," I said. "So what's going on?"
"Not much. I've been questioned by several officers. Reporters have also been showing up. It's pandemonium. I guess the lake is off limits for taking my boat out. Sleepy little Round Lake has a murderer on the loose, and the whole town is buzzing."
"Yes, things have come to a standstill. But I've got plenty to do. I have to write a eulogy for Francesca." I explained to Ken how I got cornered into doing the eulogy.
"By the way, did you know that Estelle and Hazel are causing uproar around here?" he asked.
It wouldn't be the first time. They once chained themselves to a bulldozer that was going to plow down an empty lot full of trees and wildflowers. They wanted the site saved as a nature preserve. Staying up all night, singing "The Yellow Taxi" song: "They've paved paradise and put up a parking lot," at the top of their lungs into a megaphone. Everyone came out in droves to sign the pet.i.tion, as much to save their ears as to save the lot.
"What are they doing?" I asked.
"Getting a pet.i.tion signed. Hazel is the ringleader and got Estelle on board. They're talking to media, trying to garner support to stop the hospital's expansion," he said.
"Could you blame them Ken? They'll lose their homes. By the way, why didn't you ever mention that the plans changed?" I asked.
"Come on now. It's advancement for the whole community. They'll get a fair price for their houses, and there are plenty of others they can buy."