Chapter 6
SARA LEE
While Gordon made his calls, more people arrived, stopping on their way to church or just out for a stroll.
Carl came jogging across the grass, his hair still mussed from sleep, wearing jeans and a T-shirt like he'd thrown on the first clothes he could find.
His face flooded with relief when he saw Sara Lee standing upright and apparently unharmed.
"What happened?" he asked, slightly breathless. Then he saw Raymond's body and stopped short. "Oh."
"We found him on our morning walk," she explained, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. "Pippi found him, actually."
Carl moved closer to her, not quite touching but near enough that she could feel his solid presence. "Are you okay?"
Was she? Sara Lee took inventory. Shaky hands, racing heart, and the image of Raymond's dead eyes burned into her brain. "I don't know."
Ted showed up next, walking directly to June. He placed a weathered hand on her shoulder. "You all right, Junie? Carl gave me a call after he heard from Sara Lee.”
"I'm fine, Ted." Nana June patted his hand absently, her attention still on the scene. "Though I think the sheriff is being premature in his conclusions."
Sheriff Gordon heard that and turned, his expression caught between irritation and respect. "Ms. June, I know you read a lot of mystery novels, but this isn't one of your books. Sometimes things are simple. A man drinks too much, and his heart stops. That's all this is."
"Perhaps," Nana June said noncommittally. "But the medical examiner will want to be thorough, I'm sure."
The crowd was growing now. Word spread fast in Meadowlark Creek, but tragedy had a way of traveling at light speed.
Pastor Pete appeared, dressed in his suit, but still with the wide-eyed appearance of having run out of his house the moment he heard.
Helena followed more slowly, her face settling into the normal pleasance that Sara Lee was used to but had been noticeably absent for the past two days.
More people drifted over, careful to stay behind the yellow tape.
Early morning joggers, dog walkers, the curious and concerned.
Sara Lee saw Diane standing at the edge of the growing crowd, her face still pale, her expression unreadable.
Pastor Pete moved through the gathering, offering quiet words of comfort, his pastoral instincts at work.
Jerry stood with his arms crossed, his lips curving on one side.
Not quite a full sneer, but something close.
His wife, Ivy, stood beside him, her face troubled as her gaze darted around.
The Cordells had arrived together. Bob and Betsy, with Bill and Barb trailing behind and looking worried.
Barb caught Sara Lee's eye and started toward her, but Tom gently redirected her to stay behind the tape.
Ted and Carl assisted by keeping the people behind the cordoned off area until a few more deputies arrived.
Mayor Orville and Lucy walked past the whole scene on their way to church as if they couldn't be bothered by the spectacle. Lucy’s face was hidden behind her large signature sunglasses, but Sara Lee thought Lucy glanced quickly toward Raymond's body.
The medical examiner arrived twenty minutes later.
Dr. Simon Ward was an older man, who'd been the county medical examiner for decades.
He drove a pristine vintage sedan and wore a three-piece suit even on hot Sunday mornings.
He carried his medical bag and ducked underneath the crime-scene tape that Tom held up for him.
"Sheriff," he greeted with a nod, then caught sight of June. "Ms. June. Didn't expect to see you at a death scene."
"Pippi found him," Nana June explained, gesturing to the dog who sat obediently at her feet now, the barking fit apparently over. "We were just taking our morning walk."
Dr. Ward approached the body with professional detachment.
He set down his bag, pulled on latex gloves, and began his preliminary examination.
Sara Lee watched him carefully, surprised by how interested she was in his process.
He carefully picked up the silver flask, sniffed it, and set it back down.
Then she glanced behind her to see the crowd also watched in awful fascination.
This was the kind of thing that didn't happen in Meadowlark Creek.
People died, of course, from old age, illness, or the occasional car accident.
But not like this. Not slumped on a park bench the morning after the town's biggest celebration.
Turning her attention back to the medical examiner, she thought of the television drama shows that trended, filled with scenes just like this one.
Inwardly wincing, she realized she was comparing this scene to one of the highest-rated shows, but finding the show to be much more entertaining. This… real life… was gutwrenching.
Dr. Ward spent several minutes with his assistant, who had just arrived, and directed the young man in taking photographs from all angles. Once completed, he stood while snapping off his gloves.
"Well?" Sheriff Gordon asked.
"Body's been here several hours. I'll need to do a full autopsy, but preliminary observations suggest possible alcohol poisoning or cardiac event." He paused. "Though there are some inconsistencies I'd like to examine more carefully."
"Inconsistencies?" Sheriff Gordon's tone suggested he didn't want to hear about inconsistencies.
"Could be nothing, could be something." Dr. Ward closed his medical bag with efficient clicks. "I'll know more after the autopsy. For now, let's get him transported."
The ambulance had arrived quietly while Dr. Ward worked. Two paramedics came forward, moving with respectful efficiency. The crowd nearby suddenly fell quiet, and Sara Lee turned to see what caused the sudden silence. The ones gathered parted like the Red Sea. Petunia and Horace had arrived.
Petunia took one look, and her composure shattered. She began crying loudly, gasping sobs that pierced the hush that had permeated over the curious but respectful crowd. Judge Melton stood rigid beside her, his face tight-lipped and white, one arm around his wife's shaking shoulders.
They ducked under the yellow tape before anyone could stop them.
"That's my brother," Horace said to Sheriff Gordon, his voice strained. "I need to… I need to see him."
"Judge, I'm sorry, but the body's been secured for transport. Dr. Ward needs to complete his examination." Gordon's voice was gentle but firm. "You can see him later, at the funeral home."
Petunia's sobs grew louder. "He was going to leave today. Going back to Richmond. This wasn't supposed to happen."
The judge's jaw worked. "This is my fault. I should have made him stay at the house last night. Shouldn't have let him wander off."
"Horace, you couldn't have known," Pastor Pete said, moving closer. "This isn't your fault."
Horace stared at the covered gurney as the paramedics wheeled it toward the ambulance.
His expression held grief, but as Sara Lee noticed, it also held something that looked like relief.
Or maybe it was just exhaustion from years of dealing with Raymond's problems. She turned to see where Nana June was and found her grandmother eying the crowd, her sharp gaze seeming to take note of everyone.
Sara Lee followed her grandmother’s gaze and began noticing other reactions in the crowd as the body was removed.
Diane's face had gone from pale to ashen, her hands clutched together so tightly her knuckles showed white.
Helena's face was stunningly blank. Jerry's sneer had faded, his gaze darting over the others as he wrapped his arm around Ivy’s shoulders.
As the ambulance pulled away, Sheriff Gordon addressed the crowd. "All right, folks, show's over. Let's give Horace and Petunia some privacy. Go on home now."
The crowd dispersed slowly, people peeling away in groups, already talking, already speculating. Sara Lee heard fragments of conversation:
"...always knew he'd drink himself to death..."
"...poor Petunia and Horace, having to deal with that..."
"...he was so nasty at the festival..."
“... and drunk there, too…”
Sheriff Gordon turned to Ted. "Can you help make sure people move on? My deputies and I need to examine the area more carefully, to make sure we didn't miss anything."
"Of course." Ted moved to stand near the yellow tape, his presence enough to discourage the lingering curiosity.
As the Sheriff walked the perimeter around the bench, Nana June moved closer to Sara Lee and Carl, her voice low. "Look at how he's examining things. What does that tell you?"
Sara Lee blinked at her grandmother’s instructions and turned to watch Gordon crouch near where the flask had been, examining the grass. "Um… that he's being thorough?"
"That he's being thorough despite what he said about it being simple." Nana June's eyes were sharp. "He sees something that bothers him. He just doesn't want to admit it yet."
Her grandmother walked around the bench, careful to stay out of the way, her gaze moving over every detail. Sara Lee watched her face show concentration and knew her grandmother well enough to know she was methodically cataloging information, storing it away.
When June walked back to where Sara Lee stood, she gave a tiny shake of her head.
Words weren't spoken, but Sara Lee instinctively understood that her grandmother disagreed with the sheriff. A chill ran down her spine despite the warm morning sun.
"Nana June—"
"We should go." Her grandmother’s words were said firmly. "We'll be late for church if we don't get moving."
Church. Sara Lee had completely forgotten about church. The idea of sitting in a pew, singing hymns, and listening to Pastor Pete's sermon felt surreal after finding a dead body.
But Nana June was already walking toward home, Pippi trotting beside her, and Sara Lee found herself following automatically. Carl fell into step beside her, his presence steadying.
"Are you really okay?" he asked quietly.
She dragged in a ragged breath. "I saw a dead man this morning. I don't think okay is the right word." Her voice came out sharper than she intended, and her shoulders slumped. "I’m sorry. I'm just—"
"You don't have to apologize. That was awful, finding him like that." Carl's hand brushed hers, brief and supportive. "Do you want me to stay with you?"
The offer touched her more than it should have. "No, I'll be okay. We’ll drop off Pippi and then head to church. Nana June is right. Keeping to routine will help."
They walked in silence for a block. Then Sara Lee whispered, "She thinks it wasn't an accident."
"What?"
"Nana June. She thinks Raymond's death wasn't an accident."
Carl glanced back toward the park, where Sheriff Gordon and Ted still worked. "The Sheriff said alcohol poisoning."
"I know what he said. But she… she picks up on things… notices things that most of us miss." Sara Lee shook her head. "She reads mystery novels. She knows what to look for."
"Sara Lee, this is real life, not a book. People die from drinking too much. It happens."
"I know that. But—" She stopped, frustrated because she couldn't articulate what bothered her. It’s just a feeling… just the way Nana June looked at that scene, the way she shook her head.
They reached the Victorian house, and Carl squeezed her hand once again. "I'll see you at church?"
"Yeah. See you there."
Inside, she changed into fresh clothes. Her bright sundress now seemed wrong after what they'd witnessed. She pulled on a simple navy dress instead. In the mirror, her face looked pale, her eyes too large.
She'd never seen a dead body before.
The thought kept circling. She'd read dozens of mysteries where bodies were discovered, where amateur sleuths stumbled over corpses and immediately started investigating.
Or where the police collected evidence and sent it off to be analyzed for DNA that miraculously was given before the end of the chapter.
But this was real. Raymond was alive yesterday, mean and drunk and cruel, but alive.
And now he was just... gone.
Sara Lee pressed her palms against the bathroom counter, taking slow breaths. This was what death looked like. This was what murder looked like if Nana June was right.
Murder.
The word felt too big, too impossible for Meadowlark Creek.
But as Sara Lee went downstairs to meet her grandmother for church, she couldn't shake the memory of Diane's terrified face when Raymond confronted her. Couldn't forget Lucy throwing lemonade at him, Helena looking sick, Jerry's sneer, all the small cruelties Raymond had inflicted.
Someone at the festival yesterday hated him enough to kill him.
Or Sara Lee's imagination was running wild, and the sheriff was right about a drunk man who'd finally pushed his body too far.
She wanted to believe that. She really did.
But when she looked at Nana June, already waiting by the door with her purse, she saw the same sharp intelligence in her grandmother's eyes that she'd seen at the crime scene.
Nana June knew something. Suspected something. And suddenly it hit Sara Lee… if her grandmother was going to start searching for the reason Raymond was dead, Sara Lee wasn’t about to let her grandmother go it alone.
And before this was going to be over, Sara Lee had a terrible feeling they were going to find out exactly what.