said.
“Mom, Thomas. Come in.”
They weren’t an affectionate family, so there were no grief-ridden exchanges, which suited her fine. Both of them walked in and looked around rather than focusing on her and how she was holding up.
“Come sit down. I’ll make some coffee.” Amber had caved and bought coffee from Starbucks. Her mom was very picky about what she drank.
“No, thank you,” her mom said. “I’d like to wash up if you don’t mind.”
“Sure. The bathroom’s the first door on the left.” Given she lived in a two-bedroom apartment, her mom would have no problem locating the washroom.
She stepped up to Thomas and gave him a light hug. At least he returned the gesture.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“As good as can be expected. How’s Mom doing?” She felt obligated to ask.
He cocked a brow. “Her usual self. I know I was deluding myself, but I really thought she’d at least act sad when she learned her youngest son had been murdered, but she went on as if nothing happened.” His lips thinned, and he glanced to the ceiling as if he was seeing the real Margaret Delacroix for the first time.
“Maybe that’s the way she copes.” Amber didn’t really believe that, but she didn’t want to make this harder on Thomas.
He shook his head. “She’s just cold.”
Never once had Thomas expressed any kind of dissatisfaction with their mom’s behavior, most likely because she fawned over him. “I’m surprised you see that.”
“You’d be surprised what I notice.” He glanced down the hallway before walking the short distance to the sofa and sitting. “Tell me what you know about Chris’s murder.”
She’d already explained what happened, but perhaps he needed to hear it a second time for closure.
“When I spoke again with Dr. Almaguire, he said the toxicology screens showed Chris had been murdered and that the police were investigating.”
“What kind of drug was in his system?”
“He wouldn’t give any details because it’s an investigation.”
“I know you. You’ll find out.”
Because she always had the patient’s best interest at heart, she did have a tendency to bug people until they told her what she wanted to know. “I plan to.”
Their mom returned looking a little more put together. “I’d like to go to the funeral home now.”
The service wasn’t for another hour, but maybe she wanted time to be with Chris. “Sure.” Once she gathered her purse and coat, she ushered them out.
“We’ll follow you,” her mom said.
Amber wanted to suggest they drive the three miles together, to be a family once more, but now wasn’t the time to complain. “No problem.”
When they entered town, the traffic was minimal, allowing her brother to remain close behind her. Fortunately, the funeral home lot was almost empty as well. Amber parked near to the entrance, rushed out of her car, and strode over to their rental.
Thomas helped his mom out of the vehicle and then walked next to her down the tree-lined path to the funeral home. Amber followed behind, not wanting to be near her mom right now. She wasn’t sure she could remain civil.
Inside, one person stood near the front of the room facing the open casket—Stone. Relief washed through her.
Her pulse sped up.
He must have heard the clickety-clack of her mother’s heels because he turned around.
Her mother looked over her shoulder. “Who is that man, darling?”
“That’s Stone Benson. He was the paramedic who found Chris.”
Amber expected her mom to make some comment, but she dabbed at her eyes instead and said nothing. Amber softened at her mom’s show of grief.
She moved in front of them both and led the way down the aisle. She stepped into the front row. Thomas followed, and then came her mom. Stone slipped into her row of chairs and stood next to her.
She leaned over and looked up at him. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome.”
Amber really didn’t want to see Chris in
“Mom, Thomas. Come in.”
They weren’t an affectionate family, so there were no grief-ridden exchanges, which suited her fine. Both of them walked in and looked around rather than focusing on her and how she was holding up.
“Come sit down. I’ll make some coffee.” Amber had caved and bought coffee from Starbucks. Her mom was very picky about what she drank.
“No, thank you,” her mom said. “I’d like to wash up if you don’t mind.”
“Sure. The bathroom’s the first door on the left.” Given she lived in a two-bedroom apartment, her mom would have no problem locating the washroom.
She stepped up to Thomas and gave him a light hug. At least he returned the gesture.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“As good as can be expected. How’s Mom doing?” She felt obligated to ask.
He cocked a brow. “Her usual self. I know I was deluding myself, but I really thought she’d at least act sad when she learned her youngest son had been murdered, but she went on as if nothing happened.” His lips thinned, and he glanced to the ceiling as if he was seeing the real Margaret Delacroix for the first time.
“Maybe that’s the way she copes.” Amber didn’t really believe that, but she didn’t want to make this harder on Thomas.
He shook his head. “She’s just cold.”
Never once had Thomas expressed any kind of dissatisfaction with their mom’s behavior, most likely because she fawned over him. “I’m surprised you see that.”
“You’d be surprised what I notice.” He glanced down the hallway before walking the short distance to the sofa and sitting. “Tell me what you know about Chris’s murder.”
She’d already explained what happened, but perhaps he needed to hear it a second time for closure.
“When I spoke again with Dr. Almaguire, he said the toxicology screens showed Chris had been murdered and that the police were investigating.”
“What kind of drug was in his system?”
“He wouldn’t give any details because it’s an investigation.”
“I know you. You’ll find out.”
Because she always had the patient’s best interest at heart, she did have a tendency to bug people until they told her what she wanted to know. “I plan to.”
Their mom returned looking a little more put together. “I’d like to go to the funeral home now.”
The service wasn’t for another hour, but maybe she wanted time to be with Chris. “Sure.” Once she gathered her purse and coat, she ushered them out.
“We’ll follow you,” her mom said.
Amber wanted to suggest they drive the three miles together, to be a family once more, but now wasn’t the time to complain. “No problem.”
When they entered town, the traffic was minimal, allowing her brother to remain close behind her. Fortunately, the funeral home lot was almost empty as well. Amber parked near to the entrance, rushed out of her car, and strode over to their rental.
Thomas helped his mom out of the vehicle and then walked next to her down the tree-lined path to the funeral home. Amber followed behind, not wanting to be near her mom right now. She wasn’t sure she could remain civil.
Inside, one person stood near the front of the room facing the open casket—Stone. Relief washed through her.
Her pulse sped up.
He must have heard the clickety-clack of her mother’s heels because he turned around.
Her mother looked over her shoulder. “Who is that man, darling?”
“That’s Stone Benson. He was the paramedic who found Chris.”
Amber expected her mom to make some comment, but she dabbed at her eyes instead and said nothing. Amber softened at her mom’s show of grief.
She moved in front of them both and led the way down the aisle. She stepped into the front row. Thomas followed, and then came her mom. Stone slipped into her row of chairs and stood next to her.
She leaned over and looked up at him. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome.”
Amber really didn’t want to see Chris in
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