CHAPTER EIGHT
The next afternoon, Kate was standing in the back row of mourners as the Meade family and their closest friends assembled at the cemetery. She stood with her little breakfast crew—Clarissa and Jane dressed in black and looking genuinely heartbroken—who had managed to love on Debbie earlier in the morning. Debbie seemed to be doing much better than she had on the day she had asked Kate to look into the murder. She wept openly and let out a single anguished moan of sorrow, but she was still present. Jim, on the other hand, looked like a very broken man. A man who would go home and think long and hard about how sometimes, life just wasn’t very f*****g fair at all.
Kate couldn’t help but think of her own daughter. She knew she’d have to call Melissa when the funeral was over. S
