My gaze strays to the front row where Steve and Dinah sit, and my smile fades when I notice that Steve has his arm stretched across the back of Dinah’s chair. She’s leaning against him, her shoulders shaking slightly. Her grief reminds me of why we’re all here. This isn’t some mixer in a church basement.
It’s a funeral for a woman who was only ten years older than me. Brooke was young, and no matter her flaws, she didn’t deserve to die, especially not a violent death.
Maybe Dinah isn’t the killer at all. She’s the only one here who’s showing any true grief.
The minister walks up to the podium and asks for us to all take our seats.
“Friends and loved ones, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Brooke Anna Davidson. Let us stand together, join hands, and pray,” the gray-haired man intones.
Music starts playing as we all rise. The boys brush their hands down the front of their ties. I shake out my dress and clasp their hands, wishing Reed were here. After a short moment of silence, the minister’s low voice recites a scripture about how there’s a time and season for everything. Apparently this was Brooke’s time to die, at the age of twenty-seven. He doesn’t mention Brooke’s unborn child at all, which makes me wonder if maybe the police are keeping that detail from the public.
At the end of the prayer, he instructs us to sit, and then Callum strides to the podium.
“Awkward,” Easton mutters under his breath.
If Callum thought so, you’d never guess it. He calmly speaks of Brooke’s charitable work, her devotion to her friends, and her love of the ocean, ending with a declaration that she will be missed. It’s short, but surprisingly heartfelt. When he’s done speaking, he nods politely in Dinah’s direction and retakes his seat. Dinah has the decency not to freak out on him again. She simply nods back.
At the podium once more, the minister asks if anyone else has any memory they would like to share. Everyone seems to pivot toward Dinah, whose only response is to sob loudly.
The minister closes with another prayer and then invites everyone to remain for refreshments served in the next room. All in all, the service takes less than ten minutes, and something about the speed of it and the lack of people here for Brooke chokes me up.
“You crying?” Easton asks with a note of worry.
“This is just awful.”
“What? The funeral in general or that Dad got up to speak?”
“The funeral. There’s hardly anyone here.”
He surveys the room. “Guess she wasn’t a very nice person.”
Did Brooke have any family? I strain to remember if she ever told me. I don’t think I ever asked. Her mom died when she was young, I know that much.
“Maybe, but I don’t think I’d have more people at mine,” I admit. “I barely know anyone.”
“Nah, every kiss-ass in the state would be here to extend their sympathies to Callum. It’d be big. Not as big as mine, but it’d be good-sized.”
“Nothing’s ever as big as yours, is it, East?” Gid says dryly.
My eyes widen in surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him make a joke.
Easton cackles. “You know it, bro.”
His laugh is a little too loud for Callum, who turns around to glare at us. Easton shuts up immediately, looking slightly abashed. Gideon, on the other hand, glares right back. He folds his arms across his chest as if daring his father to come over and yell at us. Callum turns back to Steve with a sigh of resignation.
“Ready to talk?” Gideon asks.
Nodding, I follow the boys out of the aisle and the three of us walk into the hallway. Everyone else is moving into the next room to take the minister up on the refreshments offer, but we stay put.
“Reed and I were talking the other night,” I start, though technically I was talking and Reed was telling me I was nuts. “We think maybe we should look into Brooke’s past, figure out if there’s anyone else who might have wanted her”—I lower my voice—“dead. I was hoping you could help with that.”
He looks startled. “How exactly can I help? I barely knew Brooke.”
Easton, however, instantly understands why I’ve come to Gideon with this. “Yeah, but you’re boning Dinah, and she knew Brooke better than anyone.”
Gideon clenches his jaw. “Are you serious right now? Are you suggesting I hop back into bed with that…that…bitch,” he hisses, “just to try to squeeze some info out of her?”
The anger reddening his face makes me take a timid step back. This is the first time I’ve seen Gideon lose his temper. He’s always been the most levelheaded of the Royals.
“I’m not asking you to sleep with her,” I protest. “Just to grill her for some details.”
He looks incredulous. “Are you really that na?ve, Ella? You think I can spend a second with that woman without her trying to hump me?”
I cringe in embarrassment.
“So forget it,” he snaps. “Ever since Brooke died, Dinah’s been too upset to even pick up the phone and call me. As long as she doesn’t remember I exist, I get to live my fucking life without having to deal with her. Hopefully with Steve back, she’ll forget I ever existed.”