Page 32 of Cash

“Working.” Noah rolled his eyes. “Some bigshot kicked it, and his family requested Ziggy to wait on ’em. He’s madder than a fuckin’ wet sittin’ hen right about now ’cause he had to put the ol’ suit and tie back on.”

“Hey, that guy was murdered,” Trixie said in a hushed whisper. “He didn’t just kick it. Someone else did the kicking.”

“Really?” Brick made a face.

“Don’t listen to her,” Noah drawled. “She will make you crazy with this conspiracy shit.”

“But it’s true,” Trixie defended. “Reginald Arthur Finch number three was totally murdered and no one is doing anything about it.”

“Finch?” Brick knew that name. “As in, the Finch family, one of the first families to settle in Raleigh?”

“Yup. They helped found the Wiley school right over there as a matter of fact. Brown-Wynne has been burying them for generations, but I think this is the first murder victim.”

“Watch it,” Noah warned her. “You know we’re not supposed to talk about work shit like this.”

Trixie huffed. “It’s all over the news, so it’s not like I’m telling him anything private. They’re saying he killed himself, but I’m telling you there’s no way he did it. The angle of the bullet is all wrong, and where you can see his brains coming out—”

“Okay, little less detail, please?” Brick pleaded.

“Right. Sorry.” Trixie grinned sheepishly. “Just trust me. There’s no way he could have shot himself in the back of his head like this. And this isn’t the first time this has happened—”

“Here we go.” Noah took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Shut up.” Trixie swatted at him. “Anyway. There was another time when this guy who was one of the Wyatts, another old Raleigh family, real big money, accidentally stabbed himself with a knife.”

“How do you accidentally stab yourself with a knife?” Brick asked carefully.

“Exactly! Someone, or someones, is being paid off at the medical examiner’s office to cover this shit up. Once, okay, weird. But Mr. Finch? This is like the fourth one this year that I would swear hand on the Bible in a court of law was murder.”

“Well. Why don’t you tell someone?”

“I’ve tried,” Trixie protested. “I’ve tried talking to Fanny and called the chief medical examiner’s office. I’ve even called Raleigh PD and the tip line. No one will listen to me. Nobody here—” She jerked her head to the funeral home. “—will listen to me either. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”

“Just a little bit,” Noah said with an affectionate smile.

“I can’t talk to the family or I’ll get in serious shit, but there is definitely something nasty going on. While they were waiting to go in with Ziggy, I heard them arguing over how Finch IV, his son, was apparently written out of the will, and he’s all pissed off. He’s more upset about being broke than his old man dying, but he supposedly has this airtight alibi. Do you know what I call that? Suspish.”

“Do you know what I call that? You gettin’ your ass fired for eavesdroppin’ on families.”

“Try not to get murdered here.” Trixie huffed again. “No one will ever know.” She lit up another cigarette. “I’m going to try calling the medical examiner’s office again. I can’t just sit by and do nothing.”

“You’re going to get yourself fired.” Noah spoke in a tone that indicated he’d already told her this many times before.

Trixie blew her smoke at him. “Yeah, yeah.”

A blue truck pulled up into Brick’s driveway, and he turned around to see who it was. The driver stepped out with a big bag of styrofoam containers, and Brick remembered that Jules had ordered in their lunch.

“Well, good luck with all of that,” Brick said. “It sounds like an actual nightmare. I hope you get it figured out.”

“Thanks, Brick.” Trixie smiled. “I appreciate that.” She looked up at Brick’s porch. “Hey, isn’t that the new hot neighbor guy?”

Jules had answered the door to take the food. He saw Brick standing across the street with Noah and Trixie, lifted the bag of food, and then nodded for Brick to come back.

“Uh, yeah. That’s Jules Price.” Brick blushed immediately. “New hot neighbor guy.”

“And what is he doing at your place getting lunch?” Trixie’s smile grew sly. “Oh, you slut! Good for you.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Brick allowed himself a cocky grin. “So, uh, if you’ll excuse me. I need to get going. Got lunch to eat, lots of stuff to do. Thank you again for my new flamingo. I’ll see—”

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