Page 8 of Yankee in the Wind

“Good afternoon, Ma’am, so sorry for your loss,” he said and reached for her hand. “Please take a seat inside. We’ll be starting in a moment.”

“Uhm, I, uhm, I’m not here for the funeral,” she said. “I wanted to speak to somebody in the office.”

“Oh, my mistake,” the man said quickly and pointed to a corridor. “The office is the last door on the right.”

Lilly nodded a thanks, then followed the direction he’d indicated and found the office. She knocked and entered. A young woman sat behind a very clean and tidy desk, her attire subdued, her hair tied back, her make-up subtle.

“Hi,” Lilly said. “I wonder whether you can help me.”

The woman jumped up from her seat and walked around the desk. “Of course, Ma’am. I’m Caroline McDermott.” She shook Lilly’s hand. “Please do take a seat.”

“Thank you, but it’s just a quick inquiry,” Lilly said. “My cousin was cremated here, and I wanted to get some more information about it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Was your family not satisfied with our services? If there’s anything that was not—”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Lilly interrupted. “I just wanted to find out who requested the cremation. You see, I was out of the country when he died, and my uncle, uh, the father of the deceased has dementia… so…”

“No problem. What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Thomas Reed.”

Ms. McDermott sat down behind her desk again and tapped something on her keyboard. A moment later, she looked at Lilly. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but there’s no record of a Thomas Reed being cremated here. Are you sure you have the right funeral home?”

“I’m certain.” She dug into her handbag and pulled out the cremation certificate. “I found this in my uncle’s papers to confirm that Thomas was cremated here.”

“May I?”

Lilly handed her the certificate, and Ms. McDermott looked at it.

“Well, that’s definitely our name and the address is correct too, but”—she cast Lilly a regretful look—“this isn’t even our stationary. The signature is wrong too. We never issued this certificate.”

Stunned, Lilly stared at her. “Are you sure?”

“One-hundred-percent.” Ms. McDermott pointed to the document. “This is a family business. There are only two people in this office who sign cremation certificates, and I’m one of them. The other is my father. This document is a fake. I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

Speechless, Lilly nodded a thanks to Caroline McDermott and left the office. Why had somebody faked a cremation certificate? What would be the point? Something was fishy. What about Thomas’s death was so important that somebody had to fake a cremation certificate?

What were they trying to hide?

5

To Jack’s surprise, he found Thomas Reed’s whereabouts two days after he’d met with Ace and Fox at Sheppard’s old house. Jack stared at the plaque on the wall of urns at Shaded Pine Cemetery, a small cemetery in the outskirts of Washington D.C. Thomas was dead. Judging by the date of his death, Thomas had managed to hide from his enemies for over three years. They’d caught up with him two months ago.

Oh, Thomas, Jack thought, why couldn’t you hold out for another two months?

Why had Thomas not been able to stay hidden? How had they finally caught up with him? Too many questions bounced around in Jack’s mind as he looked at the stone behind which Thomas’s ashes were held. Ashes… At the word a memory surfaced. Thomas had had a phobia stemming from his mother’s death: fire. So why had he been cremated? It made no sense. They’d often talked about it when they were deployed to conflict zones around the world. Thomas had made him swear that should he be killed in action, he would to be buried, not burned.

Was this a sign that something wasn’t right? Had Thomas staged his death to get his enemies off his back? Had he meant to leave a message to his friends, to Jack in particular, by pretending he was cremated? It was odd to say the least, and worth investigating.

Jack knew exactly where to start: with Thomas’s father. If anybody knew the truth about Thomas’s death, it would be William Reed—if he was still alive.

An hour later, Jack found himself in front of an assisted living facility. He checked the address that he’d found online. No, there was no doubt: Will Reed now lived in an old folk’s home. This too was a surprise. After all, Thomas’s father, a fierce self-sufficient man, had sworn years ago that they would have to carry him out of his house in a box. What had made him agree to moving into an eldercare facility?

Jack entered the one-story building. Rather than feeling like a hospital, the interior had a cheerful, airy atmosphere. Soft music played in the foyer, and a reception desk that looked like it belonged in a spa was manned by a friendly young man.

“Welcome to Sunset Living, I’m Robbie. How may I help you?”

“Good morning,” Jack said. “I’m here to visit an old family friend, Mr. William Reed.”