Dirty Devil Page 16

  I was watching Martha Callum. She hadn’t moved. And her face had drained of all color so it was almost as white as the chair she was sitting in. Everyone’s gaze turned to her, and then Kimmie erupted.

  “No!” she screamed. “I’m going to fight this. He was ill. Out of his mind! I won’t have it,” she said. “He promised me. He promised we’d get married. He promised this would all be mine. Do you know the things I let that man do to me? He was so old. And now you’re telling me he’s just going to leave everything to some nobody secretary?”

  Kimmie’s gaze lasered in on Martha and she took a step forward. “Were you screwing him too like that bitch Julie? Were you?”

  Kevin hurried over and put himself in between Kimmie and Martha. “You have a right to your anger,” Kevin said. “But it is what it is, and there’s nothing to fight. Don’t make things worse. These were his wishes, and it’s all laid out quite simply. Ms. Kloss, you’ll have until five o’clock today to remove your personal belongings from the home. The Manhattan apartment is in your name, but I must remind you that the payments become yours as well. If you’d like, I can recommend a realtor so you can put it on the market.

  Kimmie spun on her heel and flounced out of the room. I could hear her heels clicking all the way up the stairs.

  Kevin rolled his eyes and then turned to Martha. “There are some papers I’m going to need you to sign. You need to make a decision on whether or not you’d like to keep José on to help you with the house. Do you want him to stay?”

  She nodded wordlessly. “At least until the house goes on the market. I can’t stay here.”

  “I understand,” Kevin said.

  But it wasn’t Kevin I’d been watching. It was José. And though his face was passively blank, his fists were balled so tight I could see the white of his knuckles.

  Kevin looked at the children and Anna and Christine. “I truly am sorry,” he said. “I’ll be here in the house today until it’s vacated. But I’m happy to answer any questions you might have.”

  “I think I’d like a drink,” Anna said.

  “Come on,” Christine said. “My house is closest. We could all use a drink.”

  “This is awkward,” I whispered to Jack.

  “What do you want to bet Kimmie tries to leave with everything but the kitchen sink?”

  I snickered. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Jack and I walked over to where Martha was still sitting. She hadn’t moved, and she was staring down at her hands.

  “Ms. Callum,” Jack said.

  “Martha,” she said. “Please.”

  Jack nodded. “I know this came as a surprise. But I really need to speak with you about Mr. Donnelly’s murder. The more time that passes, the more likely his killer is to go uncaught. Contact me as soon you’ve had time to let this settle.”

  Her gaze met Jack’s and there was a steely strength in it that reminded me she’d worked for John Donnelly for twenty-one years. She was nobody’s pushover.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I was just caught off guard for a moment. But you’re right. Meet me at the office at noon, and we’ll go through the files. And I know you’re going to ask for case files, but I have to tell you because of the sensitive nature of some of John’s current cases, you’re going to need a warrant.”

  “I’ll have one,” Jack said. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Congratulations, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” she said, coming to her feet. “I’d like to say I don’t deserve it, but I sure as hell do. I haven’t had a vacation in years, and there were times I wanted to kill him myself. But I’m sorry about what happened to him. I read about it in the paper. No one should have to die like that.”

  “No,” Jack agreed. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But I don’t think I’ll stay here. My kids are grown and scattered around, but I’ve got family in Texas. I’ll probably end up there. I’m tired of the winters here.”

  11

  I’d have liked to play cop all day with Jack, but I had a job, and it was the kind of job where you couldn’t really leave people waiting, so Jack dropped me at the funeral home on his way to the station.

  “Call me when you need a ride,” he said.

  “I should be good for a while. What are you going to do about Dr. Park?”

  “I’m heading out now to meet him at his office,” he said. “Hopefully, he can squeeze me in between Botox injections.”

  “If you come back with your face looking like a Ken doll I’m withholding sex.”

  “Good to know where your level of tolerance ends,” he said, smiling. “Stay out of trouble.”

  “You too,” I said, leaning over for a kiss. “Keep me updated.” I hopped out of the truck and waved as he drove off.

  I let myself in through the kitchen door, hung my jacket in the mudroom, and then headed straight for the coffeepot. Someone had already made some, but the pot was cold so I started a fresh one.

  “Oh, Dr. Graves,” Lily said, coming in behind me. “We were wondering when you’d be here. We got three bodies in this morning, and we’re expecting two more this afternoon. With John Donnelly already in the cooler, we’ll be at our max capacity.”

  “Three this morning?” I asked, surprised. “Where’d they come from? Have the families been in touch?”

  “Emmy Lu has all the details,” she said.

  Lily looked slightly frazzled, and she never looked frazzled.

  “Y’all should have called me,” I said.

  “It wouldn’t have done any good. We knew you were at the will reading. Besides, all this happened in just the last half hour. The hospital called and then bodies and people started showing up. It was a madhouse. I think Sheldon was crying.”

  I sighed and handed her a cup of coffee before doctoring my own. Sheldon tended to get emotional when things got too stressful.

  “How are the bodies?” I asked.

  “We haven’t gotten them cleaned or prepped yet,” she said. “There’s a family in the salon, and I was just about to go meet with them. Had you rather do that? I know I don’t normally meet with clients, but I figured I was the better option until Sheldon got himself under control.”

  “Good point,” I said. “You take the family. I need to meet with Emmy Lu and then I’ll get started on the bodies. If we’ve got more coming in this afternoon I don’t want to get too behind.”

  I took my coffee and headed into the main part of the funeral home. My grandparents had wanted to make it look as much like a home as possible, so the foyer was wide and welcoming with soft colors, rich woods, and fresh flowers. There were two viewing parlors downstairs and two more upstairs, each done in a different color, and there was a smaller chapel on the first floor as well with a stained-glass window. The chapel gave me the creeps so I rarely went in there. There were also two salons on the first floor we used to meet with clients, and at the far back of the funeral home was the casket room, where we kept a good selection in stock for people to choose from.

  To the left side of the entryway was a glassed-in office where Emmy Lu Stout held down the fort. She was a dozen years older than me and had lived in Bloody Mary all her life. She’d married her high school sweetheart and given birth to five boys before her husband had decided to leave her for a bank teller hardly old enough to vote.

  When she’d come looking for a job, I couldn’t turn her down. I’d never been able to afford a receptionist before, so it was new territory for me. But now that I had her, I didn’t know how I’d gone on all this time without her. I understood exactly why John Donnelly had left his fortune to his secretary.

  “Thank the Lord you’re here,” Emmy Lu said, coming out of her office. “You hate to say business is hopping in our line of work, but it’s been nonstop for the last hour. My ears are ringing, I’ve had so many phone calls.”

  Emmy Lu had babysat me when I was a teenager, and she looked exactly the same except that she was a l
ittle wider in the hips and she had crow’s feet. She was still cute as a button and had an infectious smile. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head and practically crackling with energy, and she had two pens stuck in it. One of her earrings was missing. I assumed she’d taken it off to talk on the phone.

  “The hospital started releasing the bodies of the tornado victims, so that’s why we got swamped. Henry and Jessica Lassiter came in first. Father and daughter.”

  “Oh, man,” I said, squeezing my hands around my cup. “I was hoping I wouldn’t pull that one. I hate it when it’s a kid.”

  “Me too,” she said. “The mom is a wreck. She’s in the parlor with her mom and her oldest daughter.”

  “Lily told me she was meeting with them to go through options. Do me a favor and keep Sheldon away from people today.”

  “Already on it,” she said. “I sent him on an errand to pick up the dry cleaning. Thought the fresh air would do him good. Never saw a grown man cry at the drop of a hat like that.”

  “Good thinking,” I said.

  “The Lassiters are ready for embalming, and Mrs. Lassiter brought clothes for the funeral. I’ve already called Larissa Carol, and she’s on standby when you’re ready for hair. I’ve also gotten in touch with Ginny Grainger at the flower shop.”

  “You’re amazing,” I said. “Who’s our third guest?”

  “Lucy Randolph,” she said. “The family wants an open casket.”

  The way she said it made me pause for a second. “And should she have an open casket?”

  Emmy Lu grimaced. “She took refuge in her garden shed when the tornado hit. There were lots of sharp things in there. She came to us in pieces.”

  It was my turn to grimace. But I understood people’s grief. They wanted to see their loved ones how they remembered them, but sometimes that just wasn’t possible.

  “I’ll see what I can do, but no promises,” I said. “Anything else?”

  “That’s not enough?”

  “Just checking,” I said.

  “We’re scheduled to get two more bodies in this afternoon. I told the hospital to hold off until we could get caught up on our storage situation. And someone from the Gazette called wanting to do an interview with you about the upcoming election.”

  “I’ll pass,” I said.

  “I figured as much. I knew the second the woman started talking Floyd Parker was behind it. Heard you had a run-in with him at Martin’s Grocery yesterday.”

  “I figure everyone has heard by now,” I said. “And I didn’t even do anything but run over his toes with the buggy.”

  “Maybe next time you’ll get to drive over him with your car instead. His oldest brother graduated with me. He liked to tie firecrackers to cats’ tails and light them, and there was a rumor that went around school that he would…” She looked around to make sure no one was listening and I leaned in closer to hear. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That he would masturbate over their carcasses.”

  My nose scrunched involuntarily. “Eww,” I said.

  “Those Parker boys are all charming when they gotta be, but they’re bad business.”

  “And with that bit of information I’ll never be able to get out of my head,” I said, “I’m going to head down to the lab and get started. Let me know if Lily needs any help. I’ll be in touch with the families personally once I’m finished with the bodies.”

  “What should I do about Sheldon?”

  I really wanted to work in the lab alone. I liked being alone. I sighed. “When he gets back send him down to me. I’m going to need all the hands I can get today.”

  “An average of sixty-three people die per year from tornadoes,” Sheldon said.

  “Interesting,” I said, rolling Henry Lassiter from the cooler and over to the embalming table. I didn’t glance at the small figure lined up next to him.

  I’d decided to give Henry to Sheldon to do since he’d be the easiest of the three. I was going to take Lucy Randolph and see if all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could put her back together again. It was times like this my medical background really came in handy.

  “I’ve always thought so,” Sheldon continued. “Natural disasters are fascinating. For instance, flooding kills more people per year than tornadoes, lighting strikes, and hurricanes combined.”

  “You’re going to do Mr. Lassister,” I said, trying to get back on track. “It should be very straightforward. Cause of death was head trauma and bleeding on the brain. He’s got some external scratches and bruising, but nothing makeup can’t conceal. Can you handle it on your own?”

  “Of course,” he said, blinking at me owlishly. “I’ve done a solo embalming before in class. I’m graduating in December.”

  “Right,” I said. “Let me know if you have any problems.” I turned my playlist on so I wouldn’t have to listen to Sheldon talking. He wasn’t necessarily talking to me, but he liked to tell the bodies what he was doing to them and regale them with useless trivia. It weirded me out a little, so music was the best way to go.

  I went back into the cooler and rolled Lucy Randolph over to the other embalming table. She was under a white sheet, but I could see the jagged tear across her throat where she’d been decapitated. She had some discoloring in the face, but after I got a good look at the body, I was pretty sure I could make her presentable enough for an open casket—as long as I didn’t run out of staples or putty. And as long as she wore something with a high collar.

  I pulled the sheet down to her waist and then turned on the ventilator above the table. The hospital had sent over their own records and injury inventory to the body, but I still needed to do my own because bruises could sometimes appear days after death. We always kept a record of bodily injuries in case a family tried to sue for whatever reason.

  I grabbed my spray bottle of disinfectant from the shelf and went about disinfecting the face—eyes, nose, mouth, and ears—inside and out. And then I grabbed a razor and shaved her face. It made working with makeup and putty much easier, and it was easier to do now rather than later.

  There was something soothing in the process. I’d done it countless times before, but I found myself completely focused on Lucy Randolph. She and her family deserved the best I could give her.

  I disinfected the rest of her body as well and then checked her for any remaining signs of rigor. I made sure her limbs bent easily at the joints. If I didn’t, the embalming fluid wouldn’t go where it was supposed to. I then went about the tedious task of stapling and stitching her back together. Besides the severed head, her left arm, leg, and foot had also been dismembered, and she had several deep slices along her torso and abdomen. Almost like a tractor blade had ripped through her.

  It was a painstaking process and it had to be done right, meaning I had to make sure the arteries were connected as well as the tissue, otherwise the embalming would be a mess. By the time I finished, Sheldon was already hosing out the drains and cleaning his equipment.

  “Just cover him and leave him on the table for now,” I told him, stretching out the kinks in my neck and back. I’d been hunched over the table for a long time. “I’ll do any patchwork and makeup when I do hers, and then we can dress them. Larissa is on call to come and do hair once we’re finished. Why don’t you go get lunch?”

  “I can start on the little girl if you’d like,” he said. But I could tell by his expression he was hoping I didn’t ask him to. Children affected all of us differently. It was tragic, and I’d learned during my days in the ER if I didn’t control those emotions then they would control me, and then I wouldn’t be any good to anyone.

  “No, I’ll get her,” I told him. “We’ve got two more coming in this afternoon, and we’re going to need all hands on deck. If you can get with Emmy Lu and get the schedules and all the paperwork ready, that would be a big help. And if you’re meeting with any clients today remember what we talked about.”

  “Be sincere and sympathetic,” he repeated. “Don’t give th
em useless information, and just listen if they want to talk.”

  “Good,” I said, praying like crazy that he remembered it. “And wear your black sport coat if you have to meet with clients.”

  “Did you know wearing black when in mourning goes all the way back to Roman times? They’d wear black togas. But India and China traditionally wear white.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “But since we’re in America, go ahead and wear your black sport coat.”

  He gave me a thumbs-up, and then headed up the stairs to the main part of the funeral home. And then I got back to work. I started by taking a couple of ibuprofen because my lower back was on fire, and then I went about the task of setting the face.

  The face had to be perfect. It had to represent in death a familiarity that loved ones could recognize from life. So I made sure the plastic eye caps were in place to make the eyes round again where they’d sunken in death before I glued the eyelids closed. Then I wired the jaw shut so the mouth would stay closed.

  I looked at the photo of her in her file—a photo of her alive and well—and I was pleased with the outcome. I put some cream on the eyelids and her lips to keep them from drying out, and then got ready to embalm her.

  I had to be careful with the incisions I made for the arterial tube and the drain tube, and I had to make an incision in the groin instead of the neck because of her wounds there. I mixed the chemicals, made my incisions, and started the process. The two gallons of embalming fluid coursing through her veins gave her skin a pinkish and more lifelike hue.