Page 78 of Dead Love
“How’s Quiet Meadows?” I asked.
“Fine,” she said, huffing out a breath. She leaned on one hip. “I’ll have you know I embalmed all on my own yesterday. And Lee has been working in the office to help with sales and coordinating.”
“You got Lee to come out?” I asked. Lee rarely left her home or office. At times, she was more reclusive than I was.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Catie said.
I could understand that. “I owe you both. Now, please,” the aggravation leaked into my voice, “Get me the hell out of here.”
She gritted her teeth, holding her words. “I can’t,” she finally said.
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“The judge set the bail too high.”
My chest tightened. “How high is that?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand.”
I slammed my fists into the bars and cursed under my breath. I waited for her to say it was a joke, but she shook her head. “Two hundred and fifty thousand?” I repeated.
“Sheriff Mike convinced him that you’re our biggest threat to the area, and the judge ate it right up. I’m sure he’s in the sheriff’s pocket too.” She crossed her arms. “And I’ve got more bad news for you.”
I clenched my fists. What could be worse than that?
“The Echo murders stopped once you were arrested.” She put a hand up to her brow. “So they’re saying that you definitely did it.”
That wasn’t possible. “But you were embalming yesterday.”
“Natural causes,” she said, cringing at the words. The first time in ages that she had been reluctant to announce a death like that.
I clenched my jaw. None of this made sense.
“That means that the killerknowsthat I’m arrested,” I said. “It’s a cover.”
“There wasn’t anything on the news about new victims this morning, and now they’re saying they’ve got the main suspect under arrest. I haven’t gotten any calls yet either.”
My chin dropped. “You know I didn’t do it.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “Find that killer,” I ordered.
“I’m not a detective.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m a funeral director.”
I gripped my fists. “And there’s not going tobea funeral home if I don’t get out of here.”
“Your visiting time is up,” an officer called down the hallway. He motioned for her to move.
“I’ll be back,” Catie said.
I stood against the bars, looking down that damp hallway into the bright office. Andrew waltzed into view, then smirked down at the holding cells, his eyes locked with mine. I hated him with a fiery rage.
“How are ya, Erickson?” he asked, his smile wide.
I imagined his neck snapping in my bare hands, his flesh easing apart with my knife. With my access to the crematory retorts, he’d be gone in a few hours, and there’d be nothing left but some bones to pulverize.
“Fuck you,” I hissed.
“Always a pleasure,” he said, tipping his imaginary hat as he walked back to join the bullpen.
The clock ticked by. I paced the cell. Would anyone else come? Would Kora help me? But why would she come? She had chosen her path. Left me behind. I went over the ways I could torture her: suffocation, drowning, my knife, a gun, a fire. And each time, I pictured her beautiful corpse lying there at my feet.
