Page 1 of Stay in Your Lane!

CHAPTER 1

EVERETT

“Here, kitty.” I stretched my hand toward the patchy, piebald cat under a scrubby azalea bush about five feet away. “Hey, kitty kitty…”

The cat looked unamused. I crouched down and duck-walked a little closer. “You look like a nice cat.”

The hell I am,the cat seemed to say, flicking its right ear at me before turning its head away. It hadn’t run yet, though, so…

“I bet you’d like some pets, right?” It would be nice if the cat wanted some petting, seeing as how I’d been waiting just beyond the boundaries of the scene for the last forty-five minutes and had turned my phone off half an hour ago to save the last of its battery. Petting a cat would be more interesting than staring at my feet, or wondering what that weird smell was, or?—

Yeah, anyway. Where was I? “Kitty, kitty, kitty…”

The cop with the clipboard standing a few meters away from me snorted. “Dumbass,” he said under his breath as he glanced at his watch.

I ignored him. Guys like that were guys who didn’t deserve my attention, or deserve to pet random cats. I got a little closer. “C’mere kitten…”

To my delight, the cat slowly emerged from under the bush. It took a few steps toward me, then sat down and began to groom its face with its paw, not deigning to make eye contact. Still, it was progress. “Just a little pet,” I wheedled as I crawled closer. “Just the top of your cute little head.”Closer…closer…When I reached out again, I couldbarelytouch the cat’s closest ear. “Sweet kitty…” It turned to look at me, a purr starting up in its belly, and I grinned as I sank my fingertips into its fur. “What a good kitty you a?—”

BANG!

The door to the doublewide trailer thirty feet away slammed open and one of the crime scene technicians came out. The cat hissed, then batted at my hand before running across the street and disappearing behind another trailer. I watched it go with a sigh, then stared down at the scratches on my wrist that were starting to bead up with blood.Ow.

“Better fix those up before you go in,” the cop said. “You don’t want to contaminate the crime scene.”

“Yeah.”Duh, I know that.I had been transporting bodies for almost a decade, ever since my dad decided I was old enough to work for the family business. Mulligan’s Mortuary Services did everything from refrigeration and death certificate filing to funerary services and floral arranging. The point was, I was an old hand when it came to appropriate behavior at an active crime scene, which this definitely was.

“C’mon in, Everett, the M.E. is done with the body for now,” the tech called over to me. “Don’t forget gloves and booties.”

“I won’t.” I headed for the hearse to get a pair of each.

“A mask might be a good idea too,” the tech added.

Oh boy. It was going to bethatkind of scene. Gloves were standard, but I was only asked to wear masks for a few reasons—bad insect activity, a truly awful smell, or lots of liquid that they didn’t want to risk contaminating.Ew. It was a good thing I’dvolunteered for this body instead of Leanne. My sister couldn’t handle big messes in small areas, and a trailer, even a double-wide, would qualify as a small area.

I used an alcohol wipe on the scratches, wincing at the sting, then covered it with a bandage. I put on a clean pair of gloves and grabbed a mask, some booties, a bag, a tag, and a handful of the special zip-ties we used to close the bags, then headed for the scene commander.

The cop handed over the clipboard. “Sign in.”

“Gotcha.” I signed, put in the date and exact time, then got my mask on. Booties came next, then I headed for the tech who was waiting by the door. The wooden stairs creaked ominously as I climbed the four steps to the door, which the tech was holding open for me. “Hey, Dwayne.”

“Everett.” He nodded, more grim than congenial. “Be careful in there, okay? We’ve documented everything, but suicide by shotgun is always a fucking mess.”

“Oh, dude.” My eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Dwayne shrugged. “I mean, I’m no detective, but that’s what they’re saying, and it looks…just, be careful.”

“I will.” I stepped inside, wondering if I should have put on a full hazmat suit. Scene contamination might not be a huge concern if it was a suicide, but a shotgun meant pieces of the deceased could end up all over the place.

“Are they here yet?” someone yelled from deeper in the trailer.

“He’s here,” Dwayne called out. He pointed down the hallway. “Last door on the right.”

I moved carefully toward the back, checking where I was stepping just in case there was something notable in the hall. No evidence had been cordoned off, but?—

A smear on the wall caught my attention. It was about elbow-height, the only thing at that height the whole length of the hall.Pictures lined the wall above it, all of them depicting the same young woman. Some showed her and a man. Quite a few had her or both of them with a cute baby. None of the photos had been disturbed, but here was this weird reddish-brown stain that appeared kind of fresh, and…

“Dude.” I turned back toward Dwayne. “There’s blood on the wall.”

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