Cavanaugh Strong. Marie Ferrarella
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her and knew that Lucy was struggling to contain her anger and hold her tongue.
She also knew that it was an act of superhuman strength on the part of her grandmother.
The uninvited woman went on and on for several very long minutes, talking about what a loss this was for everyone at the home and how she personally would miss the sound of Henry’s voice and his infectious laughter.
Each word she uttered just seemed to stoke Lucy’s fury.
The minister was smiling as he appeared to listen, but Noelle had the feeling that the man’s smile was forced and that the minister really longed to be somewhere other than at this cemetery, watching a minidrama play itself out.
Noelle could only pray that Lucy would keep herself in check out of respect for Henry as well as for the minister’s collar. Lucy could be a real pistol when she wanted to be.
When Amanda finally concluded her eulogy, the minister looked at the remaining attendees at the funeral and asked, “Anyone else want to say anything?”
“Yes,” Lucy said between gritted teeth, stepping forward.
Noelle noticed that the minister struggled to suppress a sigh as he gestured for her grandmother to begin.
The smile on Lucy’s lips was tight while she looked down at the casket, but Noelle could have sworn she saw her grandmother’s lower lip quiver.
“Bet you’re glad to be someplace where you don’t have to listen to that anymore if you don’t want to,” she told her friend. Patting the casket’s lid, she added, “Well, you know I’m going to miss you. That goes without saying. Miss your stubborn arguments, even if I did always manage to talk you out of things.” She sighed, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “Goodbye, Henry. Tell Dan I’ll be there in another fifteen years or so. Make sure he behaves himself,” she added.
Lucy took a step back and raised her head to look at the minister. “You can have him lowered into the ground now, Reverend.”
With a nod, the minister gazed over their heads and signaled to the two strapping groundskeepers standing off to the side.
Coming forward, the two men went about the business of lowering the casket slowly into the ground. Rather than retreat quickly, despite his apparent desire to do just that, the minister made his way over to Lucy and took her hand in his.
“I know you probably already have one of these cards, but just in case you misplaced it, if you ever feel like you’d like to talk about your friend—or anything at all—I can be reached at this number,” he told her.
Lucy closed her hand over the card. “Thank you, Reverend, I appreciate that. But I have been blessed with a granddaughter who actually listens.”
The minister glanced at Noelle and then at the young man standing on the older woman’s other side. He smiled in understanding.
“Not everyone is that lucky. You are a very fortunate woman, Mrs. O’Banyon,” he told her. “In many ways. But I think you already know that.” The minister looked at Noelle and then at Duncan. “And you have a very nice family.”
With that, the minister took his leave.
Even as he began walking away, the man’s words registered belatedly with Noelle. She immediately opened her mouth to set him straight and correct the misconception that the minister had obviously managed to make. She realized that the man thought she and Duncan were married.
Raising her voice, she called after the minister, “Oh, but he’s not—”
“Save it, Noely,” her grandmother advised. “The reverend’s out of earshot—and it doesn’t matter anyway,” Lucy said.
It was time to go. She’d said what she wanted to say, paid her respects to a lifelong friend as well as paid for his funeral. There was nothing more to be done here. Turning to Duncan, Lucy said, “Young man, your arm, please.”
For the second time in a very short span, Noelle’s mouth dropped open again. If she didn’t know better, she would have said her grandmother was flirting with Cavanaugh.
Keeping the observation to herself, she fell into step behind her grandmother and her partner. Lucy seemed to be hanging on his every word, not to mention physically hanging on his arm as she allowed him to guide her back to the car.
The end of the world, Noelle decided, was undoubtedly being announced sometime in the next few hours.
It kept nagging at her, even as she sat at her desk at work.
Noelle knew she had a great many things—small and large—to occupy her mind, not the least of which was the pile of reports she’d had to catch up on during the lull the division was currently experiencing. She had no reason to dwell, especially after two weeks, on a small, seemingly throwaway detail about Lucy’s deceased friend. Lucy had only mentioned it in passing while talking about the general state of Henry’s health.
After all, Lucy hadn’t indicated that she was in any way bothered by the existence of this fact.
But she was.
Especially since she hadn’t gotten a good answer to her question from Lucy when she’d asked about this loose detail.
“Okay, what are you chewing on?” Duncan asked her.
The question caught her off guard. As far as she knew, she’d given no indication that something was bothering her. Maybe she needed to work on her poker face a little, she thought.
“What?” It had taken her a moment to hear Cavanaugh’s question, almost as if her brain was on some sort of five-second delay. Hearing the inquiry, she shook her head. “Oh, nothing,” she said, hoping that was the end of it.
It wasn’t. She should have known better. This was Cavanaugh, a man who managed to take “annoying” and turn it into an art form. Even his good looks managed to annoy her. Annoy her because she couldn’t seem to get to the point where she could just ignore them, or become oblivious to them. If anything, the man continued to increasingly disturb her peace.
“Don’t give me that. I’ve been your partner for six months and I’ve gotten to know that face,” Duncan told her. “Something’s bugging you and it’s been bugging you for a while now.”
Rather than tell him what she was thinking about, she switched subjects, taking the opportunity to clear up something else. “Okay, if you must know, I’m just trying to figure out what your angle is.” She saw a hint of confusion furrow his brow, so she elaborated. “Why did you go out of your way to attend a funeral for someone you didn’t know?”
“Because you were going and it’s what partners do for each other,” he replied. “But that’s not it,” he added. It was her turn to look quizzical and his turn to clarify his point. “That’s not what’s making you chew on your lower lip. That’s your tell, you know. That’s what you do when you’re trying to work something out in your head. Now, what is it?” he asked. “I think you should tell me before you wind up chewing right through your lip.”
Noelle didn’t like sharing things until she had a handle on it. In this case, she had no answer, nothing that stood out for her as even a remote answer, much less a reasonable one.
But if Cavanaugh knew her, she also knew him. He would continue badgering her, most likely at inopportune times, until she gave him an acceptable answer to his question.
She might as well save herself some grief and aggravation and tell him. “I’m trying to figure out why a man who had no family and only one really dedicated friend would take out an insurance policy. Henry had to have had something better to spend his money on than an insurance premium, don’t you think?”
Duncan shrugged. “Depends. Who got the money once Henry was gone?”
Noelle