At the funeral . . .Friday's Morbid Writing Prompt Response

Last Friday's Morbid Writing Prompt was: At the funeral. . .

My response:

At the funeral, Maureen stood at the graveside peering down at the casket covered in flowers as the preacher’s words slid numbly by her. Was she responsible for his death? She lifted her head and gazed around through tear-blurred eyes at the other solemn faces. Or was one of Jimmy’s friends and colleagues? Even if one of them had pulled the trigger, was she the underlying reason someone had killed him?

He should have listened to her. The night she complained that she heard something or someone in the lab, had not been her imagination. The robot knew it. Maureen shook her head. That was ridiculous. The robot knew what it had been programmed. But she knew. Someone had been snooping around their project and the sensitive work they were doing.

Jimmy must have too. Otherwise, why would he have changed his will and made her the sole heir when they weren’t even married? Married? They hadn’t even been engaged thanks to the shooter.

Where was Lucas? He was here, hiding, observing. Damn! She would hate him to be right, for one of these people that she had worked with for almost a year to be a killer.

She glanced at each one of the faces of her team. Everyone was there except Daniel who was also dead. Had quiet, sweet Daniel been involved in Jimmy’s murder or had he been an innocent bystander who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? And what was up with him and Jennifer going to work for the competitor? Did they not have any loyalty to a man who brought them into the government project?

Jennifer. Maureen looked straight across the six-foot deep hole at the woman who had been Jimmy’s longtime girlfriend and the lead engineer on the team. She stared into deep blue eyes that met hers head on. Why did she not get a sense of this woman, a flash of something in her mind to let her know if Scottish Jennifer with her funny accent and hard gaze was a murderer? If she had been involved, she should have known. No. She would have known.

Tearing her gaze from Jennifer’s, she eyed the rest of the attendees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Besides the team members, there were a few government officials, but not everyone on the morphing robots project attended. On her left, stood some of Jimmy’s college buddies and friends. A movement to her left caught her eye and she turned her head in that direction.

Leaning against a tree was Robert Sacks, the owner of Robotics FX and Jimmy’s main competitor.

What was he doing here? She snarled silently. Where was Lucas? Did he see Robert? The preacher’s voice seeped into her mind and she returned her attention to the sleek, shiny casket and its flower-laden lid. Taking the preacher’s cue, she bent at the knees, picked up a handful of dirt, and tossed it on top of Jimmy.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Don’t worry Jimmy, I’m safe and I will catch your killer. That’s a promise.