Jumping into the air and screaming, I drop my phone and clasp a hand to my chest. My heart is absolutely hammering from the scare. I yell, “Becca! Didn’t anyone tell you never to sneak up behind someone in a funeral home? You scared the living hell out of me.”
“I was standing here the whole time, Einstein. Besides, this place isn’t scary. You’re such a chickenshit.”
The place is kind of scary, what with the dead bodies everywhere and maze of dimly lit rooms in the basement, one of which is the room where Becca embalms said bodies. “Am not,” I argue petulantly, bending down to retrieve my phone.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I cross my arms. “Well, I don’t know if I’m going to tell you now, since you called me a name, you big meanie.”
Becca rolls her eyes at me then stops, squints at me and asks, “Did you get laid?”
My mouth drops open. “There is no freaking way! How does everyone know this simply by looking at me?”
Becca smirks. “I didn’t. That moronic grin on your face while you were on the phone made me suspicious, and your response just now confirmed it. So who’s the lucky fella?”
“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“What, did you and Blake have make-up sex after your big fight the other night?”
“No, although strangely enough we are on speaking terms again. And speaking of the other night, could you please keep your distance from Lydia Thomas?”
She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Why?”
“I have a bad feeling about her. Just don’t go anywhere alone with her.”
“That’s ridiculous. She’s the only woman in town I actually have something in common with. I would love to get to know her better.” Becca studies my serious face for a moment and then gasps, “You think there are murders going on again and you think she’s involved, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been asking me to look over bodies the past week.”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re nuts. Lydia is a lovely woman, and she’s not a killer. Besides, don’t you always think one person is the killer and it turns out to be someone totally different?”
“Usually, but—”
She cuts me off. “Look, some of us have work to do. I have to finish embalming some old lady tonight. Tell me who’s getting in your panties already.”
I can’t help but smile when I utter his name. “Brody.”
“I’ll be damned. I thought you two hated each other.”
“We did, but the night you set us up, we ended up spending a little time together and it wasn’t so bad. Then when Blake and I had our big fight at The Liberty Inn, Brody was there and let me cry on his shoulder. Then we went running together on Saturday, and we went to Nashville on Sunday.”
“And?” she prompts.
“And that’s it. He’s coming over to my house after I get done here.”
“You left out all the juicy parts.”
I smile at her. “Sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing my private life at work. I’d better start doing my job or my hag of a boss is going to fire me.” I duck as she chucks an empty box at me, hurrying into the foyer to start my four-hour countdown to my date with Brody.
First, I go into the viewing room to pay my respects to Brad’s family. The place is packed, not surprising for a young person’s visitation, and the crowd is much more rowdy and loud than usual. I finally find Brad’s parents and explain that I was a friend of their son’s, and that if they need anything they should not hesitate to ask me. Spying a group of guys Brad’s age, I nonchalantly head their way.
“Hey, guys. My name is Lizzie, and I’ll be taking care of the visitation this evening. I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. I knew Brad. He was a fun guy.” They all murmur in agreement. I need to try to figure out which one Shane is, to see if he knows anything about the girl Brad was with the night he died. I continue, “So…did any of you guys work with him?”
Two of them nod their heads. At least I have it narrowed down. Maybe later on I can pull each of them aside, and hopefully one of them will be Shane.
Despite the talkative nature of the rest of the crowd, I’m really not getting a lot out of these guys. “Well, again, I’m sorry for your loss. Have a good evening.”
After straightening some chairs and checking the supply of tissues in the viewing room, I wander back out to my post in the foyer. I still have over three and a half hours to go. Passing the time is not going to be easy when I think about who will be waiting for me at home. In an attempt not to dwell on the fact that I so don’t want to be here, I busy myself with straightening sofa cushions, emptying trash cans, replacing empty tissue boxes, and making sure the coffee is fresh. I also make it a point to keep moving because running around is the only thing keeping me warm. Becca keeps it freezing cold in this place, probably so the dead bodies will stay fresher. For me, it’s not so pleasant when I’m here for hours on end.
I decide to scan the viewing room for the two guys who said they worked with Brad. Bingo. One of them is alone.
I walk over to him and get right to the point. “Are you Shane?”
“No. I’m Dan.”
“Oh. I’ve heard Brad talk about Shane before, and I was trying to put a name with a face.” Might as well see if I can get anything out of Dan here while I have the chance. “So, Dan. Did you and Brad hang out together outside of work?”
“Not too much.” Not too helpful, Dan.
“I bet Brad was a great manager. He was so easy-going.”
“Yeah, he was okay, I guess.” Seriously, Dan? Getting details out of Dan is like getting details out of me. I didn’t realize it was so annoying.
I’m going for it. “Brad was pretty popular with the ladies around town, huh?”
Dan shrugs. “So I’ve heard.” I’ve had enough of Dan.
“Right. Nice to meet you, Dan.” I give him a fake smile and get the hell away from him. He was so not helpful. I hope the other guy is Shane, and I also hope that he has some conversation skills.
The other guy is still talking to the original group I met, so I’ll have to wait a little longer. I empty some more trash cans, wipe up a spill in the family lounge, and make sure the ladies’ room has toilet paper. When I get back to the viewing room, the group is nowhere in sight. Damn it! They must have left when I wasn’t watching. I hurry out the door and into the parking lot to search for them, but no luck.
Crap. I shuffle back into the funeral home, pissed that I let those guys get away before being able to speak to them. I guess Blake and I can try to run Shane down tomorrow. Ugh. Only two and a half more hours to go.
I notice some movement in Becca’s office, and it’s Becca. She must have snuck in from the back entrance to her office, which leads through a storage area and down to the basement. Bored, I head in there to talk with her. “Did you get your old lady finished?” I ask her.
“Yep. Done and done. Now I’m going to go get laid,” she says.
“TMI, cousin.”
Chuckling, she replies. “Tough crap. Hey, don’t forget to lock up before you leave.”
I give her a salute. “Yes, sir.”
Becca glares at me, and I return to my usual spot in the foyer.
The rest of the evening is even more uneventful than before, if that’s possible. I’m all fidgety and excited, but have no outlet for my energy. I’ve gotten two dirty looks in the past few minutes, one for drumming my fingers on a table, and one for tapping my foot on the tile floor in the entryway. I’m going nuts here! Finally, people start to trickle out of the building. After the family leaves, I quickly begin my post-visitation cleanup.
I stack all of the chairs in the viewing room against the wall and vacuum the carpet underneath. I put away all of the leftover food in the family lounge and sweep the crumbs from the floor. I collect all of the trash from every trash can, replacing clean bags and hauling the trash to the side door to take out later. As I’m fizzing about, I realize I’ve
forgotten the most important thing—locking myself in. Normally, before I start my chores, I always check that everyone has left the building (except for the dead people, of course) and then lock myself in. Like I said before, the last thing I want is to be startled in here by someone sneaking up on me. At least I know the corpses stay where Becca puts them.
I run from room to room, checking for stragglers. I even check the closets, just to be sure. After I’m confident the main floor is free of any living persons, I lock all of the doors on that level. Now it’s time to lock up the basement door. I shudder. That’s the one part of the job I don’t like, aside from the late hours. It’s always super dark downstairs, and it’s creepy because Becca embalms her corpses down there.
After grabbing a flashlight, I head down the stairs. Becca probably already locked the only exterior basement door when she was down here with her old lady, but it’s my job to double check. Even with the light from the stairwell, the entire basement is pitch black as usual. I can never find the light switch down here, which is partly why I brought the flashlight. After I switch my flashlight on, the beam of light bounces across something on the floor on the opposite side of the room, near the door.
I suck in a breath. Surely my tired brain is playing tricks on me. Trying to get a grip, I whirl around and shine the flashlight on the wall to locate the light switch. I finally find it and take a calming breath, then throw the switch. The room is illuminated, and I wheel slowly back around. My heart thuds to a stop in my chest when I realize I really did see what I thought I saw. There’s a man lying on the floor, dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the scene in front of me to disappear. I take a few more deep breaths, hoping to gain better control of my body, which is shaking uncontrollably. This can’t be happening again. Not to me. It just isn’t fair! I never asked for this. I don’t want to be the girl who’s always finding dead bodies. The police think I’m a complete nutjob, and now that I’m dating Brody, they’re going to rib him mercilessly about it.
Wait. No one else knows about this, besides the killer of course, so what would be the harm in simply turning around and walking away, leaving the body for some other unlucky sap to find and report to the police? Although the lucky sap would end up being Becca, and she’d kill me if she figured out I’d done that to her.
No, I have to deal with this. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again. Maybe I should call Brody first, instead of nine-one-one. Eyes still shut, I turn my back on the body so I can make my call.
“Hey, did you get off work a little early?” he says when he answers my call.
“No,” I reply, my voice warbling.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone suddenly sharp.
“I…um…” Tears spring to my eyes, and I choke out, “I found…a…dead body.”
He hesitates for a moment. “At the funeral home?”
“Yes.”
“Are you making a joke?” he asks uncertainly.
“No! He’s seriously dead!”
“Are you sure?”
Knowing the slightest glance will further sear this horrific image deeper into my brain, I reluctantly take a quick look over my shoulder. The man is lying in a pool of blood with a temporary grave marker (basically a long metal stake with a plaque on the end) sticking out of his chest. “Yes.” My eyes travel to the man’s face.
“I’m on my way—”
“Holy shit!” I exclaim when I realize who it is.
“What?”
“It’s Jed Stewart,” I breathe, suddenly cold all over.
“Stay put. I’ll be there in three minutes.”
Stay put? Hell no! I dash back upstairs, lock myself inside Becca’s office, and begin pacing frantically. I’m freaking out big time here. Jed had to have died between the time Becca finished working on her old lady and when I went downstairs to lock up. Becca would have discovered him earlier if he’d been there.
That means the killer was in the funeral home at some point tonight, maybe even in the short time I’ve been here alone. Another shiver shakes my body, and I stop pacing. After that realization, I’ve totally given up on trying to calm down. At this point, I’m only trying to keep from hyperventilating.
My phone rings, nearly startling me into peeing my pants. It’s Brody.
After my shaking hands drop the phone twice, I finally answer, “Hello?”
“I can’t get in. Can you unlock the front door?” he says.
“Be right there.”
Hesitantly, I get up and head to the front door, still watching over my shoulder so no one sneaks up and tries to get me. When I let Brody in, he immediately sweeps me into his arms and holds me tight.
In his arms, my hammering heart is beginning to slow its pace, and my incessant shaking quiets considerably. It’s amazing how safe he makes me feel.
I raise my head from his chest and whine, “I don’t want to go through all this again.”
“I know,” he replies, stroking my hair. “I hate to have to say this, but I need you to tell me you didn’t kill anyone today.”
I push back from him and cry, “Of course I didn’t kill anyone today, Brody! I would think you’d at least know me well enough to know that!”
“I do.” Noting my obvious anger, he says, “I’m sorry. I know you’re upset. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. I had to ask only because it’s my job. Can you tell me where to find the body? I need to go make sure the area is clear.”
I point to the door to the stairs. “Down the stairs. You’ll see it. And please be careful.”
He smiles. “You, too. Go lock yourself in a closet or something.”
“I’ll be in the office.”
After locking myself in Becca’s office again, I collapse in her chair. I’m sure this entire block will be crawling with everything from emergency vehicles to gawkers to news vans in under five minutes. I can hear sirens approaching quickly, so that means the circus is starting. This is going to be a monumentally long night.
A few minutes later, Brody knocks on the office door. When I let him in, he gives me another crushing hug. “I’m going to pass this case off to someone else because of our relationship. I don’t want anything getting between us.” He brushes a lock of hair back from my face. “I’m going to be here for you. Okay?”
I nod, my eyes prickling with the threat of tears. “Brody,” I begin, my shaky voice barely above a whisper. “The guy down there…Jed Stewart, you know, we saw him the other night…he was the one who was with Lydia at Vibe.”
“I know.”
The sirens are even louder now, probably turning into the parking lot.
“So can you arrest her now?”
“For what?” he asks.
I sigh. It’s obvious to me what’s going on. Jed’s body was left here for me to stumble upon. The timing was laser perfect as well—I was the only Weber Funeral Home employee on site during the time of the murder. More importantly, I’m the only person who should have had access to that part of the funeral home during that time frame. Lydia is trying to get me arrested because she knows I’m on to her.
He gives me a squeeze. “Don’t sigh at me. CSU will sweep the place, and I’m sure they’ll find something. When we know who the killer is, we’ll arrest him.”
“Or her.”
Brody chuckles and steers me toward the front door. “I’ll have to brief the other detectives when they get here. Will you be okay by yourself for a little while?”
“Yeah, I guess…” I reply, sounding more sure than I actually am.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
A police car pulls up in the parking lot, and Brody gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he goes over to meet his fellow officers. I sigh again and sink down on the front steps. I’m so freaking sick of dead bodies. Sitting here even feels too close to the situation inside, so I head around the building and plop down on the grass in the side lawn. It’s opposite the parking lot and
the basement door, so at least I can’t see anything that’s going on. I enjoy the relative quiet while I can.
I put my head in my hands and try not to think about all of the shit I’m about to go through. There will be police interviews, police interrogations, police statements to sign, gossipy neighbors asking questions, news hounds asking questions (and Sloane will probably force me to give Blake an exclusive, which I would have anyway, but I hate being in the spotlight), and at some point, someone is going to have to clean up all the bloody mess in the funeral home. Becca had better not ask me to do that.
And so the circus begins, as several more cop cars show up, plus the coroner’s van. Thanks to the deafening noise, the funeral home’s neighbors are out in force. Normally the area around the funeral home is quiet since it’s a residential area. Not tonight. Above the din, I hear my name being called frantically.
“Lizzie!” I look up to see Blake sprinting around the corner. What’s he doing here? And why is he calling me “Lizzie” again? He’s running toward me, and he grabs me up off the ground, wrapping his arms around me so tightly I think he might snap my body in two.
“Blake,” I complain. “What’s gotten into you?”
He doesn’t let go, but explains breathlessly, “I heard on the police scanner that there was a…death, and they gave the funeral home’s address. I knew you were working tonight and assumed you’d be here alone after everyone else left. I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer your phone.”
My phone. Hmm. I think I may have set it down in Becca’s office, but I don’t remember picking it back up. “Sorry. I must have left it inside.”
“Lizzie, I was so worried about you.” He loosens his hold a bit, just enough that he can look at me, and asks, “You aren’t hurt are you?”
I smile, touched at his concern. “I’m fine. Really. Just a little shaken up from…finding another dead body.”
Blake exhales sharply. “That’s a relief.”
“What do you mean it’s a relief? I said I found a dead body!”
“All I care about is that the dead body isn’t you.”
Bad Medicine Page 18
