Free From Newsprint to Footprints: A River's Edge Cozy Mystery (River's Edge Cozy Mysteries Book 1) by Elaine Orr

that the tear wasn't for Hal? Probably not .
    The mayor had finished, and Reverend Patrick asked if anyone else would like to say something. There were a couple moments of rustling, and then Fred strode toward the pulpit.
    I supposed someone on the paper should say something, especially since the only family member Betty had found was a second cousin in Omaha. And she hadn't come.
    Fred adjusted the microphone and smiled at the attendees. "Since Hal fired me a few months ago, you might not expect me to be up here."
    There were titters from almost every row.
    "Several people here probably think Hal was hard to like."
    A couple more titters, and a few people waved the cardboard fans the funeral home always puts in the pews.
    "What Hal was, was dedicated to River's Edge. How many of Iowa's really small counties have a paper as professional as the South County News? How many of those send a photographer to literally every high school sports game?"
    Salty liked to go to all of them. But it was true, Hal didn't have to pay him for his time.
    Heads nodded now.
    "A lot of small papers have closed or cut back to one day a week. The News is still at three days, and Hal hired dedicated staff to cover events in our community."
    He also fired a lot of them .
    "As we move forward to serve the people of South County, everyone at the paper will use the skills Hal taught us."
    Except no one will throw staplers .
    It sounded as if Fred was campaigning for editor. Especially since he said 'we' and 'us.'
    He closed with, "Today we are celebrating the life of a man who was dedicated to River's Edge. If Hal were still here he'd be taking notes in the back pew."
    A couple people said amen, and some clapped. A few others turned to see who was in the last pew, and someone gasped. That made more people turn.
    I felt myself reddening. Why hadn't I thought that some people might think I really had killed Hal?
    People didn't stare more than a second, and the organ started the lead-in to Amazing Grace.
    Under the cover of voices raised in song, I pushed open the tall door and walked into the vestibule. Thankfully, Fred had stayed near the front of the church and couldn't follow me.
    Betty, red-eyed and clutching a wad of tissues, came out as I was pushing the door that led from the vestibule to the street. "Melanie. Those people shouldn't have stared."
    At the paper, Betty always dressed precisely, rarely in slacks. I was surprised at her choice of a royal blue dress with a white pin shaped like a rose. It seemed bright for a funeral. I had on grey slacks, a black turtleneck, and a white sweater. Rarely did I feel more appropriately dressed than Betty.
    "Come outside. I want to be gone before everyone comes out." I walked toward my truck, but Betty had stopped.
    "Aren't you going to the dinner in the social hall?" She asked this in a tone that implied it would be scandalous if I didn't.
    I turned to look at her. "Those gasps kind of talked me out of it. Catch you later." I smiled as I spoke, while concurrently taking my keys from a side pocket in my purse.
    In television shows, police often go to a service or burial to see if any potential suspects attend. A sheriff's deputy sat in a patrol car not far from the church entrance. No sign of the IDI agents. The patrol car could have been there to direct traffic.
    I had intended to use the traditional after-funeral dinner to talk to some of Hal's neighbors. Maybe one of them saw him after about seven-forty-five the night he was killed. With no autopsy report released yet, it wasn't possible to know when and where Hal was killed or precisely how. I assumed he was killed late at night and not early the next morning.
    I pulled out of the church parking lot and headed for Hal's neighborhood. Maybe not all the neighbors were at the funeral.
    His home was modest – from the look of it, a three-bedroom ranch – as were those around it. They had been built at different times, so there wasn't a cookie cutter feeling.