08 - December Dread by Jess Lourey Page B

interviewed her three times, at her request, and she’s been hanging around the crime scene offering to help Briggs at every turn. He’s ready to pull his hair out.”
    “Well, she’s coming for you, which means it’s time to skedaddle.” Mrs. Berns grabbed my hand and we fled not a moment too soon. A glance back revealed an uncomfortable Adam in Lynne’s unblinking gaze. I couldn’t imagine why he didn’t just tell her to buzz off.
    Mrs. Berns kept leading me all the way to the door of the main chapel and pulled me into a quiet spot off the foyer. The smell of lilies was intense. “Where’s the nearest pay phone?”
    “At the Amoco on the edge of town. Why?”
    “You’re going to call the FBI and tell them about the orange begonias.”
    I rolled my eyes. “You’re not serious.” I was starting to get on board with the idea of gathering information the police might have overlooked, but a five-year-old flower story seemed like a dead end.
    “Any little bit helps.”
    “Random facts from five years ago do not help, they hurt. The FBI doesn’t need us to waste their time. If we’re going to assist, the first thing we need to do is stay out of their way.”
    “If there’s a connection, we’d be negligent not to let them know. If there isn’t a connection, they can disregard our information.” She planted her hands on her hips and settled in for a stare down.
She and I had been here before. I knew it’d be easier to do what she asked than to fight her, and in the big picture, I had to admit that she was probably right. A legitimate tip wouldn’t hurt. Let the FBI decide if there was anything to it. I returned to the main room to say my goodbyes and offer my condolences to Mrs. Garcia and the rest of Natalie’s family. The line to reach them was extensive, and the haunted look in their eyes when I finally spoke to them was almost too painful to bear.
    When I shook Mrs. Garcia’s hand, she pulled me into an embrace, whispered something sad and vague about making popcorn for Natalie and me during a slumber party, and thanked me for being a friend to her daughter. I wondered how she could remember me, but maybe she hadn’t after all. Her brain must be a blurry soup of pain and ghosts shot with bright, unmoored memories. No way could she hug all these women Natalie’s age and wonder, just for a second, why it was her daughter and not one of us lying in that coffin. My tears were flowing as freely as hers when I finally stepped away.
    On my way out, I got an extra tight hug from my mom, who told me that after she was sure she couldn’t do anything more for Mrs. Garcia, she’d be spending the rest of the day playing bridge with friends. After that, I drove with Mrs. Berns to the gas station and pulled out the business card Adam had given me yesterday. I flipped the card to the back and dialed.
    Agent Briggs was exactly as thrilled to hear from me as I’d expected.
    “What’d you say your name is again?”
    “Mira Berns.” The real Mrs. Berns, unhappy that I’d stolen half her name, somehow managed to twist my underarm skin through my jacket. I ignored the pain and told him the brief orange begonia story. “We heard the story just now, at Natalie Garcia’s wake. We thought there might be a connection between all four of them getting the same gift back then, and the killer and his candy canes and the three snowmen now.” It sounded weak, even to my ears.
    “Did De Luca tell you to call? Tell him we don’t have time to chase any more ghost leads.” Click .
    I hung up the phone and smacked my own forehead. “I don’t think he was too impressed.”
    She shrugged. “It was a long shot. Better safe than sorry.”
    We were standing next to one of those hot dog treadmills, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten yet today. Man, that meat smelled good. If it was, actually, meat. “It is a stretch between flowers and candy canes, except …” My brain started cranking. Suddenly, the entire world dropped