Read Online ShadowsintheMist by Maureen McMahon - Free Book Online Page A

environment I knew he abhorred. As was my habit these
days, I appraised him critically. I had to admit he was actually quite handsome
in his dark suit with his hair neatly combed and his face newly shaved.
    The ceremony took the better part of two hours. The priest
was Greek Orthodox, though it made little difference. Leo had disdained
organized religion since early childhood, almost as if it posed a threat to his
ambitions for worldly success. If he’d thought to do so, he’d most certainly
have disallowed any sort of service. Luckily for the rest of us, he hadn’t.
Despite my mysterious sense of apathy, the memorial lent a greater reality to
his demise and for that, I was thankful.
    At the front of the church, surrounded by wreaths and
bouquets, stood a small, black onyx urn that held Leo’s ashes. The smell of
burning incense mingled with the thick, sweet perfume of hundreds of flowers
was stifling. I tried to take slow, deliberate breaths, barely aware of the
droning voice of the priest concentrating instead on the steady grip of David’s
hand and my own disassociated thoughts.
    The church was full to overflowing, lending further
discomfort and I wasn’t the only one relieved when the eulogy was completed.
Grant left silently before anyone else to waylay reporters and give them some
incomprehensible jargon to take back with them. This allowed the rest of us
time to reach the sanctuary of the cars and move off for the private ceremony
to be conducted over the burial of the urn within Beacon’s grounds.
    I was dry-eyed and because of it, I suspected the crowd
condemned me as heartless and unfeeling. In truth, I felt only emptiness. The
little black urn meant no more to me than the impersonal words spoken by the
pompous, balding priest. I knew it would take some time to put my father to
rest in my own heart. I still felt his presence throughout the estate, as if I
might come around a corner and find him striding toward me, grinning, or
dictating to some junior executive scurrying to keep up, his clear, deep voice
echoing resonantly.
    Perhaps if I’d been able to see my father’s body, his death
would have been easier to accept. But this wasn’t to be. The funeral home
provided brief visitation hours but the casket was closed—also at Leo’s
request—so it was no more familiar or recognizable than the impersonal black
urn.
    * * * * *
    King Kong was waiting in the entrance hall when everyone
straggled back from the burial. He was a typical feline in that he came and
went as he saw fit and displayed little loyalty to anyone. After Leo’s death,
he disappeared. This wasn’t surprising, since he often embarked on personal
business that sometimes kept him away for days. He always returned, however,
not much the worse for wear, refusing to give any hint as to where he’d been or
what he’d been up to.
    Such was the case now. He sat watching us with aloof
dignity, his thick black fur almost blending with the black marble floor. His
eyes were slitted into yellow-gold chips and his huge, fluffy tail curled
around him with just the tip twitching at some inner annoyance.
    Alicia drew in her breath and clutched Grant’s sleeve. “Lord,
I forgot about the cat!”
    I glanced at her curiously.
    “Poor old Kong.” David smiled in sympathy, squatted and
stretched out a hand.
    Kong gave him a lazy perusal, then stood, stretched, blinked
twice and turned his back. He sauntered down the hall and disappeared in the
direction of the kitchen without a backward glance. David smiled ruefully and
stood up.
    “Don’t bother with him,” Colin snorted. “Leo’s the only one
he paid any attention to. Cats are too stupid to appreciate anything.”
    “I wonder if he knows,” Alicia mused.
    Grant looked at her and his eyes glittered. “Oh, he knows
all right. He’s probably the only one who does know exactly what happened that
night by the pool.”
    The words gave a hollow echo in the large room and I
shivered. “I’m going up