A garbage truck. Cecilia Blackworth Hamilton Taylor Marks-Davis wept into the lapels of her latest husband’s Brooks Brothers suit. Her baby girl had been killed by a garbage truck. How horrifying. Only thirty-two and now gone. What a waste of a beautiful woman and a beautiful life. At least that husband of hers had seen to it that she looked good, although really, the white bouclé was so last-season.

Cecilia glanced over her shoulder at her son-in-law and granddaughter. The poor girl clung to her daddy and buried her face in his tailored black suit. Cecilia had never liked Zachary Zemaitis. Had never understood why Devon had been so set on having him. Lord knew he was handsome, but he was just so…male. With his big arms and shoulders and chest, and Cecilia had always been uncomfortable around men with hundred-proof testosterone flowing through their veins.

A garbage truck. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. Zach Zemaitis sat in the front pew with his arm around his ten-year-old daughter. Devon would have hated that, and wherever she was, Zach was sure his wife was raising hell…

“…A garbage truck,” Devon Hamilton-Zemaitis complained to the dead guy behind her in line. He was bad-mannered enough to roll his eyes.

“Lady, we all have problems,” he said. From what Devon could see, the man’s biggest problem was that his family had buried him in a cheap suit. Probably JC Penney.

Devon shuddered delicately. At least Zach had sent her to heaven in her Chanel and her best pearls. Although the bouclé was so last-season, and she was missing her matching two-toned pumps. She looked down at her bare feet, covered by white wispy clouds. She hoped to God Zach didn’t donate her things to the Junior League auction, or it was likely Genevieve Brooks would end up with the Chanel pumps. Genevieve had been jealous of Devon since their first Little Miss Sparkle Pageant, and Devon hated the thought of Genevieve forcing her big bony feet inside those beautiful shoes.