The tension was thick; Ham was still angry that she’d taken Butch with her last night, and she just wasn’t going to go there. She’d apologized even though she didn’t really think she needed to. She and Butch had run into each other, period, the end. Ham wouldn’t be half this bent out of shape if Grace had gone into that lousy stinkin’ neighborhood and gotten shot at alone. Her back was up; maybe it had something to do with observing Jeannie’s pathetic lack of independence. Now they had to go inside a blasted Catholic church.And the lot was packed.“Damn, is there some kind of service?” Ham asked. “Daily Mass?”“That’s usually earlier, so people can get to work,” Grace said.They drove around for a while, but there were cars parked on the streets, too. They finally found a spot about eight blocks away. At least it wasn’t raining.“There must be a service,” Ham said.“Funeral?” Grace wondered aloud.They went straight to the parish office. Father Alan was waiting for them in the secretary’s office.“What’s going on?”
