Page 15 of Deadly Avarice
“I get it. Just be careful.”
“Always,” I teased, and Franklin’s scoff told me exactly what he thought of that response. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” Franklin agreed before he ended the call.
I left the house feeling giddy and arrived at the Baymont Cemetery the same way. Baymont was an older cemetery that was still accepting a few new residents. You had to have some pull to be buried there nowadays. Daphne Beaumont held that type of old-money charm that got her buried with the rest of her family. I was here on bequest of her son, Harrison Beaumont. There was some discussion in the family, some unfinished business, regarding a young woman claiming to be Mrs. Daphne Beaumont’s grandchild. Thus far, the Beaumont family had refused DNA testing, claiming the young woman was simply a gold digger lying through her teeth. Given the times, I couldn’t believe someone would be so stupid. DNA testing would easily indicate if the woman was spinning tales or not.
The Beaumont crypt was beautifully ornate and immaculately kept. I had no doubt that when his time came, Harrison Beaumont intended to find his resting place within those walls.
“Mr. Beaumont,” I said by way of introduction. As usual, I didn’t offer my hand and Harrison Beaumont kept his deeplytucked within the warmth of his coat. The wind wasn’t exactly biting, but it was crisp. The temperatures had moderated and it was around fifty today. Still cool for our southern Mississippi blood.
“Necromancer Boone.” Harrison offered me a quick nod. The man was average size for a human, maybe a little shy of six feet tall. His blond hair was generously shot through with white that blended well. Harrison Beaumont gave the appearance of an assured man. Shoulders wide and held aloft, the man carried himself well. His light blue eyes were crinkled at the corners with deep grooves, and I got the impression he was quick with a smile. That grin was nowhere in sight today and I didn’t take offense.
“Thank you for coming today.”
Considering this was a paying job, I didn’t think Harrison owed me a lot of gratitude, but I was appreciative none the less.
“Of course,” I simply answered.
Lifting his shoulders impossibly higher, Harrison’s voice hardened as he said, “I expect the privacy clause I signed to be effective and for you to hold to its terms.”
I could have been offended. A lot of others would have been. The man had just questioned my honor and that wasn’t something a lot of Southern men took kindly. Then again, I was a necromancer, and Mr. Beaumont might not consider me worthy of the same respect.
Taking a deep breath, I took the high road and gave Harrison Beaumont my most reassuring smile. “As stated within the contract, I will not divulge any knowledge gained today unless said knowledge places someone’s life at risk or in some way relates to an ongoing murder investigation. I do reserve the right to make a judgment call regarding such situations.”
Harrison cocked his head to the side while his eyes clinically ran up and down my body. I doubt my appearance did muchto impress him. My pants were clean but worn to the point of absolute comfort. My tennis shoes were the same way, and my coat hung from my shoulders, at least two sizes too big. My pockets bulged with Pops’s charms, and my hair perpetually needed a good trim. Honestly, I had no idea what Franklin saw in me.
With a firm nod, Harrison said, “I find your terms acceptable and honorable. Someone’s untimely demise is not what we are here for today.”
It was oddly phrased and made me wonder if Harrison Beaumont knew something I didn’t. If so, he seemed confident that secret wouldn’t be revealed today.
With the legalize out of the way, I swept my hand in the direction of the crypt and said, “Shall we?”
“Of course.” Harrison Beaumont pulled out a key, unlocking the crypt. The air was stale inside, but not humid like it would be during the spring or summer. I was used to damp, moldy crypts but the Beaumont one was dry and cool but not cold.
“Mother’s body is here.” Mrs. Daphne Beaumont hadn’t been cremated. Her body was embalmed and sealed within the crypt. Harrison had the seal broken and Daphne’s remains were laid out on a flat, stone surface within the crypt. Most likely Daphne was currently sprawled out on top of one of her ancestor’s tombs.
Daphne Beaumont’s body was covered by a thick, hunter green blanket. It was similar to all the other blankets I’d seen used in cemeteries. It was supposed to remind others of green grass. It just looked like a piece of fabric to me.
I didn’t need to get closer to her body, but I did anyway. It would be easier if her torso and head were uncovered before I started. Pulling down the blanket, I found myself staring into the preserved face of a woman who’d obviously been attractive while alive. Old age had barely diminished her beauty.
Buried in a pale pink blouse, Daphne’s hands rested on her lower abdomen, a beautiful platinum wedding band wrapped around her left ring finger. Black pearls draped her neck and dripped from her ears. I’d bet my life savings they were the real deal too.
Harrison’s breath caught when I pulled the blanket back. Mrs. Beaumont died seven years ago. It had been a while since he’d seen his mother. Her corpse was holding up well.
When the body of a loved one was revealed, I generally got one of two responses. The living either took a step back or forward. Harrison stepped forward and ran his fingers over his mother’s wedding ring.
“We debated burying her with her engagement ring also,” Harrison said, a catch in his voice. “There was never any doubt about her wedding ring, but my sister and I thought Mother would want her engagement ring saved for her grandchildren. I think that was the right decision, but I don’t know.”
“You can always ask her,” I said. When Harrison’s head snapped up, eyes wide, I shrugged. “I know that’s not the reason you want me to bring her soul back, but there’s no limit on what you can speak to her about. Not as far as I’m concerned.”
Harrison’s mouth opened but no words came out. The only response was a soft nod before he said, “Please proceed.”
Eyes slipping closed, I concentrated on the thread connecting Daphne’s body to her soul. Pushing my necromancer power into my voice, I said, “Daphne Olivia Beaumont, I call your soul to return.”
I wouldn’t say Daphne’s soul was reluctant, but it wasn’t eager either. Typically, the longer a soul had been gone, the more reluctant it was to return. That wasn’t the only reason, but I’d found it generally true over the years.
Blinking, Daphne’s eyes were milk pale. Her stiff skin made a sort of rubbing noise as she opened her mouth. I was prettysure the woman had dental implants when I saw the perfection behind those lips.
