By Monday's memorial service, the town was abuzz with the news of Miss Lindley's unfortunate demise.

The funeral had been set for Townsville that coming Friday by Lindley's last couple of remaining relatives, but very few people would travel that far from Mercy's Creek. To do that they would need to fly east to Brisbane, and then fly north to the opposite end of the state.

Harry couldn't help but wonder how someone could be missing for over two months without anyone thinking it suspicious. Was she really that estranged from the few members of family she had left? What about her friends? Had the woman's relationships become that distant that nobody found her radio silence odd?

Whatever the circumstances Harry took her duty to provide closure to the community very seriously. She was impressed with what the staff had been able to pull together in the space of three days, especially considering the whole town closed down on Saturday afternoons and didn't reopen until Monday mornings.

Thanks to Erin, bouquets of wildflowers lined the walls of the large shed, which the school called a gymnasium, and every chair they possessed had been dragged out of classrooms and storage sheds, wiped over and lined up meticulously by the two groundskeepers, both named John. Eliza, the teacher-aide, had created montages of Lindley with the students and members of the community, and had found the lady's best school photo, blown it up and had it backed. Many of the teachers had written speeches or poems, and they had all spent their weekend baking, so that they could supply the community with morning tea. Even Harry had baked pumpkin scones when she and David had returned to their home on Saturday. Since they were the only thing she could bake however, she left the rest of the cooking to the other staff.

Parents were beginning to arrive and the students had gathered outside.

Of course, Sam Dupret was one of the first community members to enter the grounds. He lingered around the outside off the building having quiet words in the ears of the locals as they arrived. The blonde woman whom Harry had seen at the supermarket shadowed him, hanging off his every word. Community members walked past Harry giving dissatisfied glares, only to move straight to Dupret to offer their thanks for his waiting to greet them in the town's hour of need. It turned her stomach watching the women give him hugs and the men clap him on the back, or seize his hand for a vigourous handshake.

He smiled over at her as if he could sense her eyes on him. The smile was unnerving. His deep eyes were considering something, but what she didn't know. She wondered what he thought about when he looked at her like that. It was an odd way to look at someone you barely knew, especially when the only interactions you'd had ended in altercations. The look didn't appear to hold any malice. She just couldn't figure him out.

"Could God have made a more perfect man?" a voice behind her whispered.

Harry turned around to find Eliza Walters standing behind her. The 26 year old was in a simple black dress that hugged her tall slender form. She wore her long copper hair in flowing waves over her bare shoulders. Her bright red lips were a stark contrast to her ivory skin as she bit her lip and made her best 'I'm shy' smile, fluttering the long eyelashes, which framed her massive blue eyes. Her thick black eyeliner almost made her eyes look too big for her face, but she was gorgeous nonetheless.

"Oh, please, not you too?" Harry rolled her eyes.

"What can I say? He's beautiful! I would do anything that man wanted, all he needs to do is ask. He doesn't notice me at all though. Unlike you. Did you see the way he was watching you earlier? He was looking at you the same way Brady Derber looked at that chocolate bar, which had fallen down through the storm drain grate last week. I can't decide if it was really creepy or really hot... Anyway, I've told you to call me Liz!" She continued to stare longingly in the man's direction.

Liz wasn't the only one who stared at him. Troy French tracked every movement that Sam and his mother made. His eyes had a frenzied edge to them. He looked eager, but why would he be so eager for a memorial service? Harry had a sense of foreboding. She was missing something.

She began scanning the students. Year 10, Casey Reed, leant against Troy touching his arm and flipping her hair. He absentmindedly ran his fingers over her back, but in his dogged observance of Samuel Dupret, he hardly appeared to notice what he was doing, or even that the girl was there. Casey' best friend, Kayla stood next to her shifting nervously. Ophelia Monk, who usually shadowed Annelisse, did the same.

Away from the rest, Annelisse paced back and forth in another world. She had asked if she could perform one of her original songs for the assembly and had turned off to the events transpiring around her as she prepared. And just past her, sweet little Cynthia Lordly had her head in a book. That was nothing unusual.

Finished with her assessment of the Grade 10s, Harry moved through the other grades. If the behaviour of the year 10s seemed suspicious then the Year 8s and 9s behaviour was downright concerning. Standing in their groups they tousled each other trying to get a better view of Troy French. Eyes darted towards him and back away. Students whispered to each other and ran between groups, sharing information.

Harry felt like she had headed out to sea in a ship with a slow leak she couldn't find. She'd gone too far to turn around and go back though, so she'd have to continue sailing and hope she hit land before she sunk.

"Thank you for all the effort, you've put into this service," Dupret said softly. "I know you didn't know her but she was a kind lady. She didn't deserve to be found like that."

Harry was suprised by his genuineness. Maybe Matt was right and there was a caring person in there.

"I don't think anyone deserves to be found like that," a well known voice said to Harry's right. Harry stifled a sigh of relief. She was so happy that David had come to provide her with moral support. He may not have know the difficulties between her and the community members, but he knew that she needed him. "To be found stuffed in a shed, along with her dead cat, she must have gone through some ordeal before her death." His face had taken on the look he got when he was saying his thoughts out loud.

"Thanks for that, David, but that's probably enough sharing of the gorey details at the woman's memorial service, thanks." She gave him a pointed stare before leaning down to ruffle Charlie's curly hair and give her a kiss. She begrugingly made the introductions between the two men.

Dupret started observing her again. Standing between the two men she felt her cheeks redden. She traced her collarbone without thinking, placing her thumb on one clavicle and her middle finger on the other. She realised what she was doing when she pinched at her voice box. Looking up, Dupret was watching her. He looked amused. She pulled her hand away. He'd only spoken to her three times. She hoped that wasn't enough for him to notice her nervous habit.

The music started. The students entered the room to the melody of Every breathe you take. Many looked maniacal. It was a look that students got on really rainy days. It was like something under their skin itched for them to be out there exposed to the elements, freely causing mischief.

Please, hold it in just until the community members have gone, Harry thought to herself as she followed them inside.

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Thank you for getting this far with me. As I've said before, I am so appreciative of your comments and votes. What do you think is going to happen next? I'd love to know what you think these nasty kids have planned.