Chapter 6

The McKinnen Funeral Home turned out to be a longish building resembling a church as much as anything else. It was constructed of wood and brick, all painted white. The surrounding grounds were green and well-tended with grass and neatly trimmed hedges and it seemed out of place, like an oasis planted in the desert scrub of western Texas. There were several cars in the parking lot and the one that caught Tina's eye was a white station wagon with the words 'County Coroner' lettered on the sides.

"Hmph," Tina didn't wonder at that.

Someone was running the show, that was obvious, and if it wasn't Fiddler or Riles, that left Moore and Peterson. The college president had been instrumental in getting the Rangers involved with his good advice to Helen. A guilty conscience perhaps? Whatever the reason, it didn't fit the profile of someone orchestrating the cover-up. That left Floyd Peterson and after meeting with Moore and Riles at the college, the coroner was paying a visit to the funeral home.

Yeah, Tina thought, Peterson would be trying to make sure all the strings were tied up nice and tight.

The inside of the funeral home was much as Tina might have expected. Clean and somber, with plush carpeting and deeply stained wood paneling on the walls. The place was tastefully decorated with flowers and classic antique furniture, paintings that avoided being overtly religious, but offered a sense of tranquility nonetheless. It was soothing and calm and like any of the dozens of funeral homes Tina had visited previously. The foyer was large and there were several viewing rooms. One of them was being used as Tina glanced inside to see several older people sitting quietly near an open casket surrounded by flowers.

"May I help you?" a young man asked Tina gently, his voice equal to the surroundings. "Are you here to visit Mr. Rodriquez?" He was dressed in a dark suit and handsome, like a salesman, Tina thought.

"No," she replied, stepping away from the open door. "I'm Detective Vasquez..." she held up her badge. "What's your name?"

"Texas Rangers?" The man narrowed his eyes and then blinked at the woman. "Oh, uh JB ... Justin. Justin McKinnen. I mean, everyone calls me JB ... What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Doctor Peterson, actually," she explained. "I was told I could find him here."

"Floyd? Oh, he's talking to my dad right now," JB said, smoothing his short black hair, somewhat nervously in Tina's opinion. "Uh, is this about a ... big case or ... something?"

"Or something," Tina nodded. "I'd like to meet your dad too. Are they in his office or..." The Ranger looked around expectantly, waiting for the young man.

"Yeah," JB glanced over his shoulder towards a door marked 'Private' and then he offered Tina an apologetic smile. "I'm not sure we can go in there right now, but..."

"It's okay." She looked to her left as the front doors of the funeral home opened and a Hispanic family entered the funeral home dressed in their Sunday best. A fortyish husband and his wife, three teenage children, all of them looking sad and serious. The youngest, a girl of 10 or 11 years, smiled at Tina, but it was a small one.

"I suppose I could wait here and question them when they're finished..." she started saying, but JB shook his head quickly at that idea.

"No, I don't ... Yeah, um ... This way..." he gestured. Decorum was everything in the mortuary business and having a policewoman waiting to ask who-knows-what in the funeral home's foyer wasn't what anyone would want.

The private door led to several others and stairs leading to the basement. JB knocked on the door that said 'Tyler McKinnen – Funeral Director' engraved on a brass plate, and then opened it slowly to reveal a rather more spacious office than Tina would have expected. She saw a comfortable living room set and realized this was probably where the funeral home's customers made their sad choices when it came time to say goodbye. There were several binders, like oversized photo albums, on the coffee table.

"What is it, JB? Oh." A man stopped speaking as he saw Tina and he looked like his son, tall and handsome with black hair going silver. He stood up slowly from behind his desk.

Floyd Peterson, who was tall and rather gaunt and dressed somewhat more casually than the Funeral Director, frowned and drew his gray eyes deep beneath his furrowed brow. He hadn't been expecting the Ranger to come here, not this quickly.

"Mr. McKinnen?" Tina retrieved her identification and held it up as she walked into the room and introduced herself to the two men. "I'm investigating the disappearance of Lisa Thomas."

"Who?" McKinnen blinked rapidly and he wasn't much of a poker player, Tina decided.

"You don't have to say anything, Tyler," Peterson said from his chair. "Just sit down and..."

"I'm also investigating the murder of Barbara Welch," Tina continued talking, putting her ID back inside her purse. "Floyd Peterson?"

"Yes?" The man turned a little more in his chair and the word murder had brought some color to his cheeks, but it was the gun the woman pulled out of her purse that made him jerk to his feet.

"I'm arresting you for obstruction of justice and conspiracy to commit murder," Tina told the man. "Move, over there, hands against the wall. JB..." Tina gave the young man a glance, " ... sit down on the sofa there."

"You can't be serious," Floyd blinked at the Ranger.

"Hands against the wall," she repeated, not overly worried about JB or his father; the boy had sat down quickly and Tyler McKinnen had gone white as a sheet. Desperate people did desperate things, true, but those two were just frightened and confused.

"You've got nothing," Peterson spat. "Who do you think you are?"

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you tell me can be used in court against you," Tina said, turning Peterson around and pressing the old man into place as she frisked him quickly with her left hand. "You have the right to have a lawyer present during questioning. Do you understand me?"

Tina hadn't really planned on arresting Peterson immediately, although the original files that Helen had provided gave the Ranger enough evidence to charge him. She'd have rather waited until she knew exactly who had raped and murdered Barbara before grabbing anyone, but this was a good opportunity to put some real fear into McKinnen. The man looked twenty years older than he had just a few minutes previously.

"Give me your hands." Tina handcuffed the coroner and he wasn't saying anything, just glowering at her as Tina walked him to a chair and sat him down. "Stay there, Doctor."

"I don't know anything about ... about a murder." Tyler McKinnen was shaking and he hadn't moved at all.

"I believe you," she told him. "Why don't you sit down and tell me what you do know."

"Tyler..." Peterson breathed a warning and the funeral director swallowed hard.

"M-Maybe I, uh ... I need a lawyer or..." McKinnen looked at Tina as she sat in a chair near the man's desk.

"You're not under arrest," Vaquez reminded him. "Tell me about the girl."

"But..." the old man licked his lips and glanced at his son who was still sitting on the sofa. "I need to know my ... my boy, he didn't know anything. It was my fault."

"If you cooperate with me," she said slowly, "I can make that clear to the attorney general."

"Uh..."

"I can't make any deals, Mr. McKinnen," Tina stared at him. "No promises, but if you hold back on me, it'll go a lot worse for everyone. It always does."

"Don't you say anything, Tyler," Peterson growled.

"Shut-up!" McKinnen frowned across the room at the coroner. "This is all your fault anyway. Just shut-up!"

"I know you didn't want to get involved, but it's time to make it right," Tina told the man. "Lisa Thomas came here, didn't she?"

"Yeah." Tyler McKinnen closed his eyes, nodding slowly. "She was here."

"What happened to her?" Tina asked gently. "Her family has to know. Her sister..."

Like most people involved in a crime, Tyler McKinnen was a victim of circumstance more than a willing participant. He wasn't a bad man, Tina knew, he'd lived his whole life caring for others, bringing comfort to those who suffered the loss of a loved one. Business or not, a man didn't do a job like that for mere money and the guilt on his face was replaced by shame as he began to speak over Peterson's angry objections.

Lisa Thomas had been in that Monday morning early and then again that afternoon, returning in a new dress and freshly made-up to be truly beautiful in her grief. She remained sitting in the viewing room with Barbara Welch until near sunset. The girl had left once more then, but only briefly, and people did that. It wasn't easy to mourn and most folks forget that, until it happens to them. Lisa had sat there for four hours, maybe five and then she'd gone for a walk. She came back as night fell over the west Texas town and Barbara was still there. Still waiting.

Ethan Moore was there as well. The college was taking care of the arrangements, paying for everything. Ms. Welch didn't have any family, leastwise none that Ethan's secretary, Laura, had been able to find. So Ethan was taking care of it and he'd gotten some help from Lisa because he understood the two women were close, but mostly the college president had tried to give the girl her privacy.

That Monday evening he was back and Moore had sat for awhile and spoken with Lisa, but McKinnen didn't know or care what was said. He could easily imagine the words. Before Ethan left, he found Tyler in the Funeral Director's office and offered the man three hundred dollars to give Lisa as much time with Barbara as the girl needed. McKinnen had refused, but Moore insisted and left the money on the man's desk with the understanding that Lisa would be able to stay all night if she desired.

There was little else anyone could do for her.

A key rattled in the door and the Funeral Director, an austere gentleman, peered inside. His eyes were warm and brown and he offered Lisa the generous presence of sincere sympathy. She was sitting in the front row, wearing a pretty dress, blue and gold like her hair. She'd been crying, and she was again after speaking with Ethan Moore, and Lisa turned her head at the sound of his voice.

"Dr. Moore told me you'd be in here, Miss Thomas. I usually close up about this time..." Tyler said quietly.

"Okay," Lisa frowned and wiped her eyes, taking a deep, ragged breath. She stood up slowly and looked at Barbara, preparing to say goodbye again, for the third time that day.

"Oh, no ma'am. What I mean to say is, you can..." McKinnen cleared his throat. "You can stay if you'd like. Dr. Moore explained that the two of you were close and, well ... We don't have anyone else here, so if you'd like to stay longer..."

"I can stay?" Lisa asked. "It's alright?"

"Yes ma'am," Tyler agreed. "Just close the doors behind you, they'll lock okay. I'll just be in my office if, uh ... if you need anything. Goodnight Miss Thomas."

"Thank you," Lisa nodded quickly and the older man pulled the door closed behind him as he left the girl alone.

"So Moore paid you to let her spend the night here," Tina clarified as she took her notes.

"Yeah, but..." McKinnen shrugged. "I would have done it anyway. I still have the money. Never spent it for anything."

"Was that the last time you saw her?" she asked him, and the Funeral Director looked away from the woman's green eyes.