The Bad Daughter(85)
Dear God. Tara’s funeral. Did this nightmare never end?
She zipped the suitcase back up, then tossed half a dozen pairs of sandals and sneakers into a brown leather bag she found at the back of the closet, allowing the deputy to take both bags from her hands and carry them down the stairs. “Okay,” she said when she reached the bottom. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Oak Hill Cemetery is located at 735 Cemetery Lane, off West Walnut Street, not far from Larie Lane. More than a century and a half old, it was established in 1859 and completed in 1861. An elaborate wrought-iron archway at the cemetery’s entrance was added several decades ago, the words “Oak Hill Cemetery”written across its surface. Tall, shady trees are everywhere along the gentle curves and subtle undulations of the landscape.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful it is here,” Robin said as Blake’s car followed the hearse containing Tara’s body along the winding, picturesque road to the gravesite. Cassidy was in the backseat beside Robin, holding tight to her hand. Melanie was in the front seat beside Blake, having made the decision that it would be better for everyone concerned if Landon stayed home. Now that news of Alec’s arrest was public knowledge, speculation was rampant that Landon had been his accomplice.
“It’s beautiful, all right,” Melanie agreed. She shot Robin a knowing look over her shoulder, and Robin remembered the joke from their childhood that Melanie used to love: “It’s so beautiful that people are dying to get in.” Mercifully, Melanie refrained from saying this out loud.
Robin twisted around in her seat to glance out the back window. The sheriff and several of his deputies were among the small procession of cars behind them. Despite the family’s best efforts to stay under the radar and their appeal to the press for privacy, word had leaked out about Tara’s funeral. There was no telling how many curious spectators would show up. Robin wondered if the men who’d killed Tara would be among them.
It had been two days since their visit to the house, two more days that Alec had languished behind bars. The police seemed confident that they had their man. Their only concern now was identifying his accomplice.
“Is your mom buried here?” Cassidy asked.
“Yes,” Robin said.
Cassidy stared out the side window at the rows of gravesites, each one marked by a small rectangular block of white stone in the ground. Bouquets of plastic flowers were scattered across the dry earth. “Where is she?”
“Not really sure.” While Robin had a general sense of the part of the cemetery where her mother had been laid to rest, she couldn’t pinpoint the grave’s precise location. She hadn’t been back to Oak Hill since her mother’s funeral.
“Over that way,” Melanie said, pointing in the direction opposite to the one in which they were headed. “It wouldn’t do to have our father’s wives lying too close to each other for all eternity,” Melanie had opined when choosing a plot. And while Robin might not have put it exactly that way, she’d agreed with the sentiment.
The hearse came to a stop underneath an impressive cluster of weeping willow trees, and Blake pulled up directly behind it, the patrol cars forming a line behind him.
Robin gave Cassidy’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Ready?”
Cassidy nodded, tucking her freshly washed hair behind her ears and smoothing out the creases of her sleeveless white dress as she exited the car. Immediately, a man with a camera came rushing toward her.
“Back off,” the sheriff shouted, punching the air with his fist. “Back off right now.”
“Public property, Sheriff,” the cameraman shouted back.
“And this is a private funeral. Come within fifty feet of us and I’ll have your ass hauled off to jail.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Yeah, I can. You can sue me later.”
The cameraman backed away, grumbling, although he kept his camera raised and ready. “He threatened me,” he said to the reporter beside him. “Did you hear him?”
“Sorry about that,” Prescott said to no one in particular as he positioned his substantial girth between the spectators and Cassidy. Robin and Blake, both wearing black, quickly formed a protective semicircle around her. Melanie stood off to the side, looking uncomfortable in her denim skirt and blue cotton blouse, as she waited for Tara’s casket to be removed from the hearse.
“Oh, poor Mommy,” Cassidy whispered, glancing at the elegantly simple light walnut casket that Robin had selected.
The small group gathered around the gravesite as Tara’s casket was lowered into the freshly dug grave. Robin’s eyes filled with tears at the thought of the most vibrant person she’d ever known lying lifeless inside it. In spite of her conflicted feelings for her former friend, she couldn’t deny that Tara had been a force of nature.
“Shouldn’t we say something?” Cassidy asked. They’d decided against a formal service or a religious officiant, Tara having been decidedly anti-religion ever since her mother had run off to join a cult.
“Like what?” Melanie asked.
“I don’t know. Something.” Cassidy turned to Robin. “Maybe you could…?”
Robin took a few seconds to gather her thoughts. “I loved your mother,” she said finally, her eyes daring Melanie to contradict her. “She came to my rescue when we were in grade school and I didn’t know a soul, didn’t have a friend, had no clue how to make one. She grabbed my hand and said she’d be my best friend forever.” She paused. “It didn’t quite work out that way, but despite everything that happened, deep down I still loved her. And missed her. I missed her spunk and her spirit. She was a real little firecracker.” Robin choked back a laugh full of tears. “That’s what my father used to call her. And while he was so wrong about so many things, he was certainly right about that. Tara was fearless; some might even say reckless. She would rush in where not only angels but the devil himself feared to tread. And while I know that she came to regret some of her rasher decisions, the one thing she never regretted was being a mother.” She turned to face Cassidy. “I can still picture her rocking you in her arms after you were born. I can see the love in her eyes, and feel the pride in her heart when you took your first steps and spoke your first words. I remember how she worried when you went off to school for the first time. ‘Please let her find a forever friend like Robin,’ she said.” An involuntary cry escaped Robin’s throat, and Cassidy grabbed her hand. “I loved your mother. I miss her. And I will miss my ‘forever friend’ forever.”