Wasted in Waldport

15 - Wes's funeral

I got to Melody just as Bill Bjornson was ordering another pitcher of beer. Reluctantly, she let me extract her from her new friends. We said our good-byes, and I got frowns from Bill and Bo for wrecking the fun. They didn't know we had a lot of miles still to put on the motorcycle. Curt gave me a level stare that seemed filled with misgivings.

"See you soon," I whispered, as I passed him on our way out.

"You best keep your lips buttoned," he whispered back.

Minutes later we were flying along the Coast Highway on the old bike. My brain was in high gear, as I clung to Melody, thinking about how I'd been right to come tonight and set ourselves up for the weekend, how right for the case but how wrong for the rest of my life. But, mostly, when I should have been thinking about repairing things with Bob, I was really thinking about the brief tingling brush of Ryan's lips across mine.

#

Wes's funeral service was at Skyline Memorial Gardens, on top of the West Hills overlooking the Oregon Coast Range. I could see the Douglas Firs moving in the wind, but knew the ceremony would be warm because of the hot sun on my elbow out the open window of the tank.

Crystal had opted to go in the Chevy with Melody and me.

Jenna went with her mother.

Until the funeral service, I'd been busy fitting into Wes's old job and thinking about the case, but on the way to the cemetery I tried to put that aside. I thought about Wes's family, about their ongoing grief and Jenna's, but the spring day erased the somber thoughts. I was tired. Even empathy for my friend seemed beyond me. I blamed getting in late from the trip to Waldport. Melody and I hadn't gotten back to the farm or to sleep until after three in the morning. No way could we sleep until we'd talked about Curt/Gary, Bill, Bo, and Ryan.

As we pulled into the cemetery parking lot, I perked up, recognizing half the cars as belonging to kids I knew at Lincoln. I was glad so many were showing up to mourn Wes and support Jenna. I parked the tank and we followed the others leaving the lot.

It was clear where Wes was being interred. There was a crowd milling over a small hillside in the distance.

#

As we got closer, I could see teachers and students I knew. Joy Hatcher was there and Curt. Then I recognized Lieutenant Ferretti.

Why was he at Wes's funeral?

Annette Mendoza was with him. She had her back to us, but that long black hair was unmistakable. I steered Melody and Crystal toward the other side of the crowd, but Ferretti spotted me and cut us off.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" he said.

Annette gave me an apologetic look. Apparently, Ferretti considered it business as usual to accost folks at funerals. Probably talked to brides at weddings during the ceremony.

"What do you want?" I said, not feeling friendly.

"Why did you take that Coast Watch job?"

"Concern for the environment?"

"I've put a call in to your father to put a stop to this amateur sleuthing, but he's out of town, as I'm sure you know," he added dryly. "Since he hasn't gotten back to me yet, I'll deliver the message personally. This is a police matter, your help isn't wanted. If you should actually interfere in the case, it could break the chain of evidence, ruining our chance of prosecuting. If that happens, I'll bring charges against your father."

"What kind of charges?"

"Obstruction of justice."

Now I was mad. "So let me get this straight. The police are making a lot of progress in solving Wes's murder, and if I get in the way of that swift progress, you'll slam some phony charge on my father?"