Page 47 of Buried Beneath Sin

“Ah, it’s the machine that does the cremation…” She pauses to consider something before she tacts on, “It’s also called a cremation chamber.”

Huh… I give the Starr girl a nod as I turn this information over in my head. Maybe I’ll use it to impress Thatcher or Sagan later on when we do a real walk through of this place.

“Um, so, like I was saying, while I do that there are some finger sandwiches and snacks leftover that you can pick through if you’d like. If your friends aren’t here by the time I come back up, you’re more than welcome to join me up at the house. I want to grab a few of the deceased's belongings to burn with them.”

I flash her a grin. “Any plan with food is a good one to me.”

Her chuckle is unexpectedly sultry. “I think so too. What’s your name, pretty stranger?”

Ok, if the Starr girl keeps feeding my ego, we might just get along. At this rate my head is going to be too large for my body to carry. Thatcher and Sagan are going to hate it.

I offer her my hand, my grin widening. “I’m Knox Keele.”

22

BEATRIX

Knox’s friends don’t show up by the time I’ve finished in the back. Nor do they arrive when I’m through throwing away the rest of the food and trash. Thankfully, Knox has been kind enough to devour most of the leftovers.

“I hate when food goes to waste,” he explained when I came back to find the platters nearly empty when before they’d been hardly touched.

I don’t necessarilywantto take Knox up to the house. He’s a complete stranger after all. But after a rough morning listening to people talk shit about me and the deceased, I wouldn’t mindsomeonekind around. Even Pastor Michaels’s presence had done nothing to stop wagging tongues.

“Are your friends lost?” I ask Knox as we walk out of the funeral home.

Knox snorts. “No, they know where this place is. Even if they didn’t, I have a tracker in my ass. They’d just pull that up and follow the dot here.”

I don’t know what that means. Are they sharing each other’s location and maybe his phone is in his back pocket? My mind’s so scattered as I think about everything that needs to be done,this is the least of my concerns. Still, I can’t leave him out here like a lost puppy.

“Well, while you wait, do you want to join me on a short trek to the house?” I ask.

Knox eyes the building on the hill curiously.

“You mean you want me to climb Mount Mordor? Do I look like the questing type?” he asks, quirking a blond, perfectly manicured brow upward in disbelief.

I stare at him for a minute and his brow falls.

“What?” he asks sharply, his body stiffening ever so slightly.

I shake my head. “No, it’s nothing. I just… I didn’t expect aLord of the Ringsreference from you, that’s all.”

“I know, it screams nerd.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, and I can’t help but smile at his theatrics. “I blame my friends. Thatcher loves that trilogy, and he forces me to watch it a lot. He likes to torment me that way.”

“At least you have friends.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. This time both of Knox’s brows raise, and I cringe. “That sounds like a cry for help. It’s not, I promise.”

He sighs loudly. “Well now I’m going to feel bad if I say I'd rather wait in my car, sosure. Lead the way, Frodo.”

“Does that make you Samwise?”

Knox tucks a strand of his wavy blond hair behind his ear which causes the cluster of thin gold bracelets around his wrist to clink together softly. “Given that we both love food and have blond hair, being Samwise works for me.”

The smile he flashes is so friendly that I can’t help but let go of some of the tension lingering in my chest after the brutal service. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes but that’s ok. We’re acquaintances getting to know one another.

With it settled, Knox and I make our way up to the house. It’ll take a bit to get the old retorts hot enough to throw Patrick and Lauren in, so the trip up the hill isn’t all that much of a waste.Especially when there are a few items I’d love to turn to ash with them.

“Feel free to poke around the refrigerator or watch some television. I won’t be long,” I tell Knox as we enter the house and I show him the living room and kitchen.

Knox flops down into the wingback chair that had once been my mother’s favorite and pushes back to recline.

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