Footsteps sounded on the gravel around the carriage. Was someone examining the hearse? Was Kumar simply checking the area for someone suspicious?

Baz’s hand found hers. He squeezed it.

The carriage shifted.

In a tone that indicated he was talking to himself but loud enough to be overheard, Kumar said, “Might as well have a bite to eat.”

The hinged flap opened the tiniest bit.

Kumar kept his voice quiet. “Someone’s watching. Don’t get out.”

Criminy.

Kumar had left the hinged door open a little. Blessed fresh air.

Gemma imagined him on his perch, nibbling on a meat pie he’d brought with him. He’d look to any curious eyes to be a driver biding his time with nothing at all in the world to be doing or fretting over.

Time crawled. The bit in the chapel would be done soon. The coffins’d be carried out and lowered into the ground. Kumar’d have to drive off. If any suspicion remained among the Kincaids, they’d follow him, watching for someone to climb out of the hearse who oughtn’t’ve been there. This was their best chance for escaping, and they were running out of opportunity.

The hearse began to move. Kumar hadn’t said anything or explained. She’d had a chance to come to know him a little during the CALL events, and she’d met his wife and oldest child. And Baz had assured her he was dependable. Whatever reason he had for moving the hearse, it must’ve been a prime one. They didn’t move far or roll forward for very long.

Kumar leaned back into the hearse, barely visible in the small gap of the hinged door. In a low voice, he said, “The procession will be leaving the chapel in a moment. The couple of blokes who are watching me will be keeping an eye on that. If you are very careful, you can slip out of here and into the toolshed right next to where we are now. You’ll have to hide yourself in there for a time. The churchyard is entirely walled. You’ll not get out without being seen if the place ain’t empty.”

They’d not planned on this bit of bad loaf.

Kumar plopped a hat on his head and alighted from his driver’s perch. At a little bit of a distance, she could hear him say, “There you are, old girl. That’ll get the sun out of your eyes.” He was likely speaking to the horse. It would give an explanation to whoever was watching.

A moment later, muffled voices could be heard at a distance, then the shifting of gravel. The funeral procession had begun.