Jane and Emily flanked me as I walked inside and was greeted by many of the friends and neighbors I’d been avoiding all week. There was plenty of good-natured ribbing, but nothing too outrageous. Jerry’s death had clearly put a damper on any teasing I might’ve received for kneeing him that night on the beach. We left our name with the hostess and found a spot at the bar to have drinks while we waited for a table. I glanced around to see if my dad was here, but didn’t spot him. I saw plenty of other people, though. Penny was sitting in a booth with two people I recognized from the bank. Joyce and Stan Boyer sat across from each other at one of the bar tables, talking animatedly while they drank cocktails and shared an order of French fries. I would’ve loved to get close enough to listen in on their conversation, but they would probably notice and shoo me away. Police Chief Jensen stood at the far end of the bar, talking to Tommy and another cop.
