Page 11 of Dirty Liars

“Really?” Jack asked, giving me a curious look. “That’s definitely worth looking into a little closer. We’re heading back to HQ now. Thanks for the info, Derby.”

“Thanks for the gyro,” Derby said and disconnected.

“Go ahead and drop me at the funeral home before you give Derby his gyro,” I said. “I’ll get started on the autopsy. I’m curious what a girl with no past might have to show me.”

“I’m going to send some of this information to Doug,” Jack said as we drove through the tranquil streets of Bloody Mary. “He can start the process of elimination. And I need to take a couple of hours and check in with my detectives. This wasn’t our only murder last night.”

“Ahh, big city progress,” I said.

“The crime in King George Proper is escalating,” Jack said. “It’s a college and a military town, and both have coexisted well for all the decades. But we’re starting to see gang violence and an increase in drugs coming in from across the river. Unfortunately our friends over there are more than happy to let them make our lives hell instead of stopping them on their side of the line.”

“Well, if I’ve learned anything about city government it’s that someone is always passing the buck. But I also know something they don’t know.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

“I know you are the last person they should want to tangle with. You always get your man.”

He laughed uneasily and squeezed my hand. Jack wasn’t always comfortable with compliments.

Bloody Mary was one of the four towns that made up King George County. It was where Jack and I had both grown up, and it was a simpler life, even today. It was a town of large lots and old homes where people still sat on their porches in the evenings drinking sweet tea. It was a place where generations chose to stay and raise their families, many of them descendants from when King George County was originally settled back in the 1700s. American flags waved as freely as the opinions.

Jack turned onto Catherine of Aragon, and the large red-brick Colonial that had once belonged to my grandparents came into view. There were two towering oaks in the front—one on each side of the sidewalk that led to the wide front steps and double door entrance. On the north side was the guest parking lot, and on the south side was the portico where we loaded and unloaded bodies.

The Suburban was parked under the portico, and Jack pulled up behind it. He leaned over to give me a kiss goodbye.

“I’ll be a few hours at least,” I said.

“I’ve got more than enough on my plate to stay busy, but I’ll come hang out when I’m finished. I’ll make sure Sheldon doesn’t end up as someone’s old lady.”

I’d forgotten about the Hells Angels, but I snorted out a laugh and kissed him again before opening the door. “Thanks for the gyro.”

CHAPTERFIVE

I hungup my bag in the mudroom and then made my way into the kitchen.

My grandparents had lived on the third floor of the Colonial when they’d first opened the funeral home, up until my grandmother had met a tragic end by falling out of an open window. Knowing what I did now about the kind of family I come from, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out that my grandfather had been the one to push her.

When my parents had taken over the funeral home, they’d done a remodel so the third floor could be used for extra viewing rooms at some point. Up until the last couple of years, we hadn’t needed the extra viewing rooms, so the third floor had been relegated to storage. But along with the population explosion in King George County and the increase of violent crimes, there was also an increase in deaths by natural causes. The funeral home was so busy I would have been happy for another one to open up just to take some of the business.

My parents also remodeled the first floor so the front office, a conference room for more sensitive matters, and the casket showroom were lined up on one side of the wide hallway and on the other side was a chapel and the largest viewing room.

Since they’d never done anything with pure intentions, they’d used the right side of the funeral home as their evil lair. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but flippancy was still how I coped with the truth of who they really were. They’d added a kitchen and office that were kept private from the public part of the funeral home, and they’d had a basement dug to create a lab that most forensics teams in the country would kill to get their hands on. No pun intended.

The lab was protected with a pressurized steel door that needed a code and a thumbprint to open. But my parents had needed the protection of Fort Knox for their illegal activities. I’d deactivated the thumbprint and just used a code since it was important to protect the bodies from any misdeeds. Attempted body theft was extremely rare in the mortuary business, but it was better safe than sorry.

I looked at the coffeepot with envy as I passed out of the kitchen, thinking that nine months seemed like a long time to survive with only one cup a day. I rubbed at the tension gathered at the base of my neck as I made my way to Emmy Lu’s office.

I’d hired Emmy Lu once business for the funeral home had gotten so busy that I couldn’t do it all myself. Emmy Lu Stout had been a godsend. She was a Bloody Mary native, and she’d babysat me a time or two in my formative years. She’d gotten married to her high school sweetheart the day after graduation, and had given birth to five boys shortly thereafter. She’d been a stay-at-home mom until her youngest had turned eighteen and her husband had walked out the door to go live with a younger woman. So she’d put on her pantyhose and come looking for a job. I told her to feel free to leave the pantyhose at home, but she’d been hired on the spot.

Emmy Lu was cute as a button, and looked like a slightly overweight Gidget with crow’s feet. She sat behind her desk with a pair of readers pushed up on the top of her head while wearing another pair from a chain hanging around her neck.

“What’s up?” I asked, knocking on the doorframe before coming inside.

“Just doing inventory,” she said. “We’re going to need to order new caskets soon. Especially the midrange models. Been a rough few months for the middle class.”

“I heard we’ll be full of Hells Angels tonight,” I said, taking a seat across from her desk.

“I went on a date with an outlaw biker once,” she said, her dimples fluttering in her cheeks and a flush coming over her skin. “Before Tom.”

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