Hauling Ash

by Tonia Brown

  “I don’t think Maloney knows anymore about Waldorf than we do. I think that whole interaction was a show for us. He meant to confuse us and scare Waldorf. All Maloney’s done is clear the mortician’s name, as far as I’m concerned. Now I want a turn to talk to Waldorf, give him a chance to come clean. Tonight. Before that ape gets another shot at him. Figuratively or literally.” Frank heard the distinct sound of Larry’s stomach growl.

  “Can we eat first, boss?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  They made their way up the few flights to the almost empty dining hall. A long buffet table rested against the back wall, overflowing with food and drink. Larry rushed to the buffet, snatched up a plate and began filling it with young man’s food; spicy burritos and zesty tacos and piles of jalapeños and nachos, all of it slathered in hot sauce and salsa. Frank’s belly roared with indigestion at the sight of it all.

  “On second thought,” Frank said, his stomach flipping and flopping, “I think I’ll get them to send something up for me later. I’m not in the mood for this kind of stuff.”

  “Are you sure?” Larry said. “It all looks so good. Man, I love this kind of food.”

  “You won’t when you’re older, trust me. Feel free to stay and eat. I’ll catch up with you later.” Frank walked away from the buffet, heading for the door again just as a belch rose to his lips.

  He returned to his room, his mind wandering to Waldorf again, and how the mortician fit into this whole crazy puzzle. Based on Maloney’s shakedown in the kennel, Waldorf appeared completely clueless, which made things a whole lot easier for Frank. He grinned, pleased at this change of events. Maybe, with a bit of finagling and sweet talk, he could coax Waldorf onto his team. Set up a bit of sting, as it were. Frank paused at the room door, fishing around in his pocket for the key, lost in thought. When he slipped the key into the lock, he heard a soft, feminine voice from further down the passage. He never considered himself a nosey man, but there was something familiar in that voice. Frank slid his key back into his pocket and stepped to edge of the passageway. There, he eased around the corner to find a plump blonde standing in Waldorf’s doorway.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me inside for a nightcap?” she asked.

  “I would love to invite you inside for a nightcap,” Waldorf said.

  “I would love to come inside for a nightcap.” She stepped into his room, closing the door behind her.

  Frank rolled away from the corner and headed back down the passageway, racking his brain as to where he had seen that woman before. That blonde hair, those thick curves, that sexy accent. Frank had just stepped inside his own room when he suddenly remembered.

  “Penny Lane,” he whispered.

  He almost didn’t recognize her without Maloney in tow. What in the world was a man like Waldorf doing with Maloney’s latest good time girl? Several answers presented themselves, none of them favorable for Waldorf. Frank tossed his key onto the dresser and slipped off his coat. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he ran his hands through his graying hair.

  “Penny Lane,” he whispered again. “I’ll be a son of a bitch.”

  “Who is a son of a bitch?” Larry asked, stepping through the door.

  Frank glanced up to the man in confusion. “What are you doing back so fast? I thought you were hungry.”

  “I am.” Larry waggled a takeaway tray. “I had them pack it to go. Thought I would eat here. I don’t like eating alone. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Larry sat his tray on the small table near the door and pulled up a chair. “I’m starving.” He flipped the lid on his tray and breathed the spicy vapors deeply. “You sure you don’t want any?”

  Frank pushed off his shoes “Good grief, no. I’d be up all night. Just watching you eat it is bad enough.” He started unbuttoning his shirt, earning him a strange look from the kid.

  “What ‘cha getting undressed for? I thought you wanted to interrogate Waldorf.”

  “There’s been a change of plans. I saw him a few minutes ago, and guess who he was in the company of?”

  His mouth full of burrito, Larry shrugged, rather than guess.

  “Penny Lane,” Frank said.

  The kid’s eyes widened as he swallowed his mouthful. “Maloney’s woman?”

  “The very same.”

  Larry nibbled on a pepper for a moment, his slower mind taking a bit longer to process the implications of such a tryst. “You think, I mean, well, you think she’s in on it with him? Waldorf, I mean.”

  “Maybe.” Frank popped his suitcase open and gathered his toiletries.

  “Like maybe they got together to steal the money?”

  “Possibly.”

  “You think they are gonna try and slip away with the money when we get to the island?”

  “I don’t know. If nothing else, it paints Waldorf in a very different light. I don’t think he is quite as naïve as he acts. I think he knows a lot more than he is letting on. To anyone.”

  “That’s a shame. I was starting to like the guy.”

  “Me too, lieutenant. Me too.” Frank folded his pajamas under his arm and headed for the small bathroom. “I’m gonna take a quick shower. Try and scarf the rest of that down before I get out. Okay? And toss the tray in one of the outside cans. I don’t want to smell salsa all night.”

  “Aye, Sharge,” Larry said around a taco.

  Frank’s belly roiled as he shut the bathroom door on the sight of the younger man enjoying such a rich repast. First a shower, followed by a few hours of sleep, and then back to work. In the morning, he would find a way to corner Waldorf. Maybe he could get an idea of where the man stood in all of this through casual conversation. Frank’s gut told him the man was innocent, and his gut was usually right. The floozy had to be pulling Waldorf’s strings. She must’ve convinced the man to steal Maloney’s money for her. Surely the mortician didn’t think he could trust a woman like Lane? Then again, with the way the two were grinning at one another, trust probably had very little to do with Waldorf’s reasons for following Lane’s lead.

  And to be fair, Frank couldn’t fault the man for that.

  Chapter Twelve

  Trouble in Paradise

  The following morning

  Otto yawned as he stretched full length in the bed, relishing the feel of his back and neck popping in all the right places. He smacked his lips, rubbed his eyes and scratched his belly. It had been a long time since he’d slept so well. It had been a long time since he had shared his bed with anyone, much less to the point of mutual satisfaction. At least, he hoped it was mutual. He rolled over and stared at the milky flesh of Penny’s bare shoulder. The sight of it warmed his heart. It also stirred up quite a bit of warmth in other places, leaving him aching for a repeat performance to match the night before.

  He slid across the bed, spooning the sleeping Penny, trying carefully not to prod her in the backside with his rediscovered desire; an act his ex-wife always referred to as “the rude awakening.” Otto wrapped an arm around her, under the covers, pressing his open palm against her opposite shoulder to keep from outright groping her full breasts. She yawned a bit and snuggled closer to him. He kissed the nape of her neck, then laid his cheek on her shoulder.

  “Good mornin’,” she said.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “What time is it?”

  Otto glanced over her to the nightstand. “Going on ten.”

  “Oh my, we almost slept the morning away.”

  “Are you surprised? We stayed up the whole night.” He squeezed her for a moment, then asked, “Did you sleep well?”

  She yawned again. “I sure did. How about you?”

  “I slept better than I have in ages.” He kissed her shoulder again. “Did you have a good time last night?”

  “I did.” Penny rolled toward him, pushing him out of the way as she turned onto her back. She stared up at Otto with bright, beautiful eyes. “Did you?”

  He smiled.
“I had a wonderful time.”

  “Good.” She pulled the sheet to her and snuggled against him. “That pleases me.”

  “You please me.”

  Penny giggled. “That was my intention.”

  “No, I mean, you … well, you make me happy.”

  She stopped giggling with a soft gasp. “Really?”

  Otto could only nod. He nodded because he couldn’t trust his tongue to keep from telling her the truth. That he was fairly sure he was falling for her.

  “Well, thank you, Otto,” she said. “I don’t reckon I’ve made anyone just plain old happy in a long while.”

  “You do,” Otto said. “And don’t mistake my meaning. You also pleased me. I mean you pleased me a lot. A lot, a lot. Like, more than a woman has ever pleased me. Three times in a row. I think that is a personal record … oh my goodness.” Otto gasped this last bit when Penny snaked her hand beneath the covers, grabbed his personal record holder and began working the length of it in her small, hot palm.

  “You want to try for four in a row?” she asked.

  “Oh, my, yes, I do. I most certainly do.”

  Otto tossed the covers aside and leaned down to kiss her, when he caught sight of his uncle’s corpse seated on the edge of the bed.

  “We need to talk,” the ghost said.

  “We can talk later,” Otto grumbled as he nuzzled Penny’s neck.

  “We can talk all you want later,” Penny said between squeals of delight.

  “We need to talk now,” Walter said, stressing the last word. He nodded across the room before he stood and walked to the bathroom.

  Otto groaned. “Okay. Let me up, Penny. I have to, um, you know …”

  “Oh, you gotta drain the lizard, huh?”

  “Yes.” He slid to the edge of the bed and pulled his boxers on. While there were plenty of things he planned on doing in the nude today, speaking to Walter wasn’t one of them. “Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t you worry, hon. I’m not going anywhere.” Penny gathered the sheets high to her neck, which somehow made her much sexier than when she was completely exposed.

  It took everything Otto had not to strip down and jump back into the bed right then and there. He pushed aside his passion and stormed to the bathroom to deal with his dead uncle. Otto gave Penny a little wave before he closed the bathroom door and whipped about to face Walter.

  “What is possibly so important,” Otto started, “that you couldn’t wait a few more hours to tell me? Or a few more days?”

  “You having fun?” Walter asked.

  Otto huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s not really any of your business, but yes. Yes I am. And I plan on having a lot more fun if you’ll excuse me.”

  “No can do. I’ve given you enough privacy. You gotta ditch the blonde as soon as you can. I need you to—”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard right the first time. Ditch that blonde so you—”

  “I will do no such thing. I happen to be in the middle of something with that blonde.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re in the middle of. And you can get in the middle of those thighs again later on. For now you need to get rid of the sexpot—”

  “Walter! Please don’t talk about her like that.”

  “Why? You sweet on her?”

  “No. I mean yes. I mean … well, you can imagine.”

  “Otto?” Penny called from beyond the door. “If you’re much longer, I swear I’ll start without you.” A soft giggle punctuated this sexy threat.

  Otto widened his eyes at his uncle, because he couldn’t raise his voice.

  “Yeah,” Walter said. “I reckon I can imagine. And as much as I hate to break up this little tryst, I have some bad news for you.”

  “What do you mean bad news?”

  “While you were playing hide the sausage with your new girlfr—”

  “Must you be so crude?” Otto cut in. “Besides, she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Walter ignored Otto, finishing with, “I went for a little walk. I learned a few things about some of our fellow first class passengers.”

  Otto stuck his fingers in his ears. “I told you, I don’t want to hear about you spying on other people. I don’t care what happens behind closed doors.”

  “You should. Because it involves you and Maloney and the FBI.”

  All at once the lust drained from Otto as he yanked his fingers from his ears and yelled, “The what?”

  “Otto?” Penny said.

  “The Feds are aboard too,” Walter said. “They must be here after Maloney. Or maybe you?”

  “You’re joking,” Otto said. “Please tell me this is a joke.”

  The corpse said no such thing, his silence confirming his own story.

  A light knock rose from the door as Penny said, “Are you okay in there?”

  “Um, yes?” Otto said.

  “You have to get rid of her,” Walter said.

  “I know,” Otto whispered. “I can’t just tell her to blow.”

  “You didn’t have a problem with that last night.”

  “Walter!”

  “Tell her you got the skitters.”

  “I’m not going to tell her that.”

  “Go on. Tell her you got the squirts. That’ll make her leave on her own. Nothing kills the mood like a good old case of Montezuma’s Revenge.”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “Here, I’ll help.” Walter rubbed his belly in small circles, then wider, and even wider, working those circles from his lower abdomen toward his ruined throat.

  “What are you doing?” Otto said as he backed up against the shower stall. “What are you doing? Stop that. Whatever it is, stop it.”

  “Too late,” Walter said.

  Walter tipped his head back, allowing the gash in his throat to part wide, like a second pair of ragged lips. With a loud belch, a wave of fetid gas poured out of the dead man’s throat, flooding the small room with a familiar and horrid smell. It wasn’t the first time Otto had dealt with the gas from the swollen gut of a long deceased corpse, but it was the first time he had dealt with the gas from the swollen gut of a long deceased corpse while not on the job—which meant he lacked the appropriate salves and sprays to combat the ensuing stench. Otto gagged and coughed, scrambling about the bathroom, trying to find a fresh pocket of air, and failing miserably. Against his better judgment, and not to mention years of training, he pinched his nose and tried to breathe through his mouth, which only made it worse.

  “Ugh,” Otto said. “I can actually taste it.”

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one,” Walter said with a grimace.

  “Otto?” Penny said, and knocked again. “Are you okay?” The door handle wiggled.

  “Don’t come in here!” Otto shouted between gags. He wasn’t sure if she could smell the ghostly emission or not. He wasn’t taking any chances. “I, ah, I think that Mexican buffet is coming back on me.”

  “You don’t say.” Penny chuckled. “Are you gonna be all right?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe?”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  Otto laid his palm on the bathroom door, wishing he could hold her hand while he said farewell. “No, though it might be for the best.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Penny said, her voice fading as she moved away from the door. “Do you think your stomach can handle brunch?”

  “Brunch?”

  “Sure. I need to get back to my room and freshen up a bit. We can meet later. Say, eleven on the mezzanine?”

  Despite his nausea, the promise of seeing Penny again forced a smile on Otto. “Eleven it is. See you then.”

  “See you later, alligator.”

  This quaint farewell was followed by the soft sound of a door clicking shut. Otto gave it a few seconds, until he couldn’t bear the smell any more. He cracked the bathroom door and peered into the now empty suite. Assured she was indeed gone, Otto tumbled into the fresh air
of the bedroom, coughing up the smell of Walter’s various gasses from his lungs.

  “Oh god,” Otto said. “It was like sticking my nose up the rear of a baboon with severe dysentery.”

  “You do that a lot?” Walter said with a laugh.

  “Lay off of me. I got rid of her. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Walter held his hands up as if in defense. “Tetchy. Tetchy. Remind me to never come between you and morning sex again. Oh, except I didn’t. The goddamned FBI did.”

  Otto sat on the bed, closed his eyes with a sigh and rubbed his temples. “All right, Walter. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Walter gave a brief rundown of his night’s activities, which mostly consisted of wandering the quiet decks and peeping on lovers and the lonely. Somewhere along the way, he snuck into the cruise director’s office, and being a nosey sort of ghost, he riffled through the director’s paperwork, including the passenger manifest.

  “The books say there are two FBI agents on board,” Walter said.

  “Did it say what they were doing here?” Otto said.

  “No. It just said FBI.”

  “What said FBI?”

  “The manifest. Two of the passengers had FBI written in parentheses by their names. Oh, and they are right down the hall from us. How do you like them apples? Maloney’s on one side and the feds are on the other. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.”

  “You don’t know for certain that they are actual FBI?”

  “They must’ve been casing Maloney’s action at the bus station when you wandered into their radar.”

  “The manifest didn’t say two agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation?”

  “I know what you’re asking, and no, it didn’t say two federal agents here to arrest Otto Waldorf for stealing a quarter of a million dollars. I just assumed.”

  “Oh, thank god!” Otto laughed. He stretched back onto the bed.

  “What are you so happy about? You’re cornered by the mafia and the law. You’re screwed, son. And not just by that sexy blonde thing.”

  Otto sat up again and shook his head at Walter. “You assumed. You assumed! The initials FBI beside those names could mean anything.”