Fab pulled up alongside the red carpet that ran from the parking lot to the front door. Somehow, they managed to keep it clean and tire-mark free. Raul had the front door to the main entrance open before we could get out of the SUV.
Before opening the passenger door, I said, “Keep in mind that if someone gets shot, we’ll be sitting here all day.”
Coming through the entrance, my eyes landed on a new display. An antique round wooden table in the middle of the room that normally held a vase of freshly arranged flowers now displayed busts of people in all mediums from bronze to hand-painted, but no one famous that I recognized.
“What’s going on?” Fab asked as she prowled around the room, sticking her head into all the viewing rooms.
I dropped down in my favorite plastic-covered, red brocade chair, positioned next to the door in case a dead person woke up and came strolling out of one of the rooms. In that event, I’d be long gone; every woman for herself. I sighed when Raul closed the door and turned the lock. It sent a shiver up my spine, knowing it was just us and deceased folks.
Raul stopped his pacing and leaned against the entranceway to the main room, where final services were held. “Last night, I spotted a man skulking along the fence at the back of the property. I didn’t think much of it; thought he was a tattoo parlor or pawn shop customer using it as a short cut,” he said in disgust. “This morning, I saw what I’m pretty sure was the same man using the side wall as a restroom.”
I laughed, and Raul and Fab turned and stared. There was a certain segment of Floridian men who thought nothing of watering a tree, bush or plant whenever nature called. The appearance of Dickie diverted the conversation and saved me from having to come up with an explanation for my “inappropriate” behavior. He came down the long hall from his workroom, where he gave the dead their final primping. He’d brought flavored bottled water with him and handed me one. I looked at the label and, seeing that I got orange, nodded and smiled up at him.
Raul and Dickie couldn’t be more different, looks-wise. Raul was the bodybuilder, with olive skin and a medium build, big biceps and well-defined abs. He ran the customer service side of the business. Dickie, his skin tone pale and bordering on unhealthy looking, was over six feet and stick-thin, with long, thin fingers.
The first time he stuck out his hand and those bony tentacles reached for mine, I jumped back. I hope in retrospect that I was polite enough when I said something akin to “no way.”
Fab gave me an evil stare. “What did he look like?” she asked Raul.
Fab and Raul had bonded over late-night games of chess when the funeral home duo had graciously allowed her to lie low at their place and appear for a chat with police on her own terms.
“I only saw the back of him: a thirtyish man, dirty brown hair, with pants that hung down and exposed his butt crack. Someone should tell him tell to pull them up; it’s a dreadful look. I assumed he was by himself until a woman crept around the corner. At least, I think it was a woman, as she had on a skirt,” Raul said.
Dickie interrupted, “Don’t forget the part where she squatted and relieved herself.”
An inappropriate laugh escaped my lips, and this time, I had a hard time getting myself under control. The three of them turned on me, not seeing the humor.
Raul humphed, clearly stressed. “The man opened the side door to the garage, and they both disappeared inside. I kept watch at the kitchen window, and it didn’t take long before they both came back outside, backpacks slung over their shoulders, and hightailed it in the direction of the tattoo parlor. It was closed at the time, so it wasn’t their destination.”
Dickie twisted in his chair. “We took turns manning the window. That’s how we know they weren’t gone very long. They looked comfortable coming and going; never once looked over their shoulders.”
“Dickie wouldn’t let me go and check out the building.”
“I don’t give a damn about the inventory,” Dickie almost yelled. “I worried you might get hurt. What if there were others inside?” His outburst came as a surprise to me; I’d never heard him raise his voice or lose his cool.
“Why the casket room?” Raul said. “There’s nothing to steal. Every coffin requires a forklift to move.”
If they weren’t such good friends, I’d block their calls, I thought.
“We need the two of you to investigate and take care of the problem,” Dickie said, wringing his hands in his lap. “We would prefer no gun shots, BUT your safety is top priority. If the choice is you or them, don’t hesitate. We don’t want either one of you to get hurt.”
“If anything were to happen to either of you… Well, selfishly, you’re our only friends.” Raul smiled at Fab. “We should’ve called the sheriff. We almost did. Then Dickie and I discussed the lurid headlines that would dominate the local newspaper for who knows how long. New customers might avoid us. Even returning ones might not use us in the future and choose to take their business out of the Keys instead.”
“Are you certain they’re in there now?” I asked.
Both men nodded.
“What do you want us to do with them?” We could get rid of them easily enough, but what about afterwards? “Do you want them arrested? Or Fab could do what she does best—scare the hell out of them.”
They both smiled affectionately at her. I rolled my eyes and wished for something cold and caffeinated.
“I’ll get the keys.” Raul excused himself. Fab trailed behind him.
“Come on.” I motioned to Dickie, and we walked to the kitchen and peered out the infamous window. Nothing outside was moving. I didn’t hear anyone come into the room, but suddenly there was a yank on my hair.
“Oww.” I turned and Fab let go of my hair.
“I’ve got a plan.” She grabbed my arm and jerked me out the door.
“Well?” I skidded to a stop, refusing to budge.
“You fling the door open on three,” she directed. “I’ll take the lead, gun drawn, and hopefully we catch them off guard. If they’re carrying, they’ll have no time to go for their guns. But from the description of those two, I’d be surprised if they had weapons. When I give you the all-clear, you do whatever annoying thing it is that you do to get them to talk.”
“You should be more appreciative; it’s a useful tool that’s helped us out in the past,” I whispered. We crept across the concrete, stopped to listen for any activity, and slunk around the side.
“Look, I just don’t want to hang out with the coffins any longer than necessary.”
“Amen.” I whooshed out a breath. I hoped this would be some sort of misunderstanding, but figured there was zero chance of it turning out that way.
Hand on the door knob, I waited for Fab to give the signal. She held up her fingers one after the other; when she got to three, I yanked the door open, and Fab charged in. I was right behind her, Glock in hand. The woman spotted us first; her eyes locked on our guns, and she screamed, her hands flying into the air.
The two had been sitting on the floor, leaning back against a casket, playing cards and munching on crackers. The man spit out a mouthful of soda, the purple mixture dribbling down his shirt.
“You.” Fab looked at the man and motioned with the muzzle of the gun. “Hands up. Either one of you moves, I’ll shoot one and then the other. If I miss, my friend here is an excellent shot.”
I felt sorry for the frightened couple. The woman started bawling, gasping for breath, and the man looked on the verge of barfing up the contents of his stomach. I’d guess them to be in their mid-thirties and pegged them as homeless. I hadn’t spotted any signs of criminal behavior.
Fab skirted the aisle, walking between the casket displays from front to back. She lingered at the back a little too long for my nerves, then shook her head and gave me the thumbs up.
“You two are trespassing,” I said, pointing out the obvious.
“We didn’t steal nuttin,” the scraggly blonde blurted.
“Shush, Mandy,
” her partner hissed. “We don’t want no trouble. We’ll just go.”
Fab and I exchanged a look that translated into “what now?”
“I don’t think so.” Fab returned to the front and waved her Walther at the two.
“Put your hands down,” I said gruffly. “Don’t do anything stupid. Now start talking––tell us what you’re doing here.” I looked at Fab and she nodded.
Mandy made keening noises and laid her head on the man’s chest. He petted her head like she was a dog.
“Start with your name,” Fab barked.
“Charlie P-P-Panker,” the man stuttered. “We needed a comfortable place to stay for a few nights.”
Fab gave Charlie her mean stare and said, “You two are living here?”
Thank goodness one of us had people skills.
“We…uh…” He shifted around on the floor. “…only used the one coffin. Both of us fit in real good.”
I took a short breath; it felt like my heart actually skipped a beat. If I were a fainter, this would be where I’d hit the floor. “You slept in one of the coffins?” I squirmed. “Why?”
“Don’t call the sheriff,” Charlie implored.
“I don’t like jail,” Mandy wailed, “and we don’t got bail money.”
Charlie squeezed her tighter. “We’re homeless. I lost my job, and I haven’t been able to get another one. If it’s money you want, I can’t pay anything, but I can do odd jobs.”
“What happened to your last job?” I could easily get him a job, but first I’d like to be sure he wasn’t hiding something. Frankly, neither one looked smart enough. But the jails were filled with stupid criminals.
“I cooked at the Pancake Joint and it burned to the ground,” Charlie said.
I’d heard about that and also knew that the owner was under investigation, suspected for the arson. He certainly had motive if the rumors were true—he needed the insurance money to pay off gambling debt to unsavory characters.
Fab moved to the front, propping open the door. “Drugs? Alcoholics?” she asked.
Charlie shook his head. “My wife has asthma.” He looked down at her. “If we went to jail, you could get a new inhaler.”
“Please,” she moaned. “Last time, I had to stand in line at the infirmary, and when I got released, I didn’t get to take it with me.”
“Stop it, you two,” I said, louder than I’d meant to. “You’re not going to jail.” I asked Charlie, “Can you pass a background check?”
“I’ve been arrested for loitering a couple of times. There’s some places folks don’t want you sleeping,” he said. “Most serious was a vandalism charge when I was sixteen.”
“What did you do?” Fab asked.
“Me and two other guys threw toilet paper all over the neighbor’s house and in the trees. The girl’s father didn’t seem to think it was funny when he caught us and turned us over to the cops. The girl spread it all over school, and the kids laughed at what dumbasses we were for the rest of the school year. My friend, who really liked the girl, never looked at her again.”
I smiled, thinking about how many times my girlfriends and I had snuck out in the middle of the night and thrown rolls of toilet paper on a boy’s lawn. That was until my mother found out and made us go clean up the mess. Me, anyway. “Pack up your stuff and clean this place up. It better look like you were never here,” I told them. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Clean up in aisle 5.” Fab laughed at her joke.
My lips quirked as I glared at her.
“I know you want to laugh.” Fab elbowed me.
“You stand guard.” I winked at Fab.
“You’re not going to throw our stuff out, are you?” Mandy wheezed out the last word.
“We’re going to come to a compromise.” I lifted my skirt and reholstered my Glock in my thigh holster.
“That’s what the cops did,” Mandy said sullenly.
Before I stepped outside, Fab leaned in and whispered to me, “We’ll give them some cash and report back that the poachers have left the property.”
The coffin storage room had become claustrophobic and I was never happier to breathe in fresh air. I pulled my phone out of my bra—my go-to pocket when my skirt had none—and called the only person I knew who had extensive experience helping people get their lives back on track.
“Hello stepdaddy,” I said when the call connected.
A deep, growly laugh filled my ear. “Whatever it is you want, the answer is yes.”
“What if I ask you to off someone?”
“You know the answer would be ‘what’s his name?’ I’m putting you on speaker; your mother’s giving me an evil stare.”
“Hi, honey, you in trouble?” she asked.
“Not this time, but I need Spoon’s help.” I told him about Charlie and Mandy.
“You make me proud,” Mother said. “I would’ve given them money and told them not to come back.”
“That was Fabiana’s idea,” I told her. “You two could be related.”
“They were really sleeping in a coffin?” Spoon asked in shock.
“Turns out they’re comfortable. That’s good to know, don’t you think?”
“Really, Madison. No one wants to think about that,” Mother said.
I hoped I would never outgrow inappropriate talk.
“Tell them to wait out front,” Spoon said. “I’ll have Billy come by and pick them up. I can get them an interim place to stay until Charlie finds employment. If he’s a decent cook, I can get him a job. After that, I’ll give them a couple of addresses that won’t demand first and last month’s rent if I vouch for them.”
“You’re the best,” I said.
“You owe me.” Spoon laughed. “And don’t think I’ll forget that. Ouch,” he yelped.
I grinned, knowing Mother had done something painful.
“You need anything else, call.” He clicked off.
Raul and Dickie had the window open and their faces pressed to the screen. I waved and shook my head for them to stay inside. Fab had reholstered her gun, confident that she could take the two of them, even at the same time.
I relayed the happy news to Fab and informed her that she’d be the one to share it with the couple. “It will be good for your people skills.” As hard as I tried, I couldn’t maintain a straight face.
She tugged on my arm. “You’re coming with me.”
“I’m not going back in there.” I stared at the open door. “I’ve had enough of the coffins. What I need is a drink.”
“I’ll go get them,” Fab whispered. “You tell them.” She stuck her head across the threshold and yelled, “Get out here. Time to leave.”
I shook my head.
The young couple shuffled out into the sunshine, fear written on their faces. They were about to get a big break, and I hoped they didn’t squander it.
“Your ride will be here in a few. My friend, Spoon, has arranged for a place for you to stay and has a possible lead on a job.”
“Jimmy Spoon?” Mandy shrieked. “He hurts people.”
“Breathe deep,” I mumbled to myself. “You have nothing to worry about if you take this opportunity and make the most of it. If it’s something you’re not interested in, say so. I’ll give you a few dollars, and you can be on your way.”
Charlie leaned down and whispered something to his wife. Instead of a reply, she buried her head in his chest. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. You won’t be sorry. Once I get a cooking job, you come in, and I’ll make you something special.”
“There’s one more thing.” Fab glowered at the duo. “Don’t come back here unless you need funeral services—that you can pay for.”
“Your ride is here.” I motioned for them to follow me.
Billy, one of Spoon’s long-time employees, jumped out of his pickup truck. He opened the back door, and before they got in, I made the introductions.
I whispered to Billy, “Free meal at Jake’s, anytime. Just te
ll the bartender.”
He half-laughed. “Stay out of trouble.”
I ran to catch up with Fab. We barreled back into the funeral home, and I plunked myself in the chair reserved for me, leaning back as she explained the situation, hoping she had fast exit plans. I liked the guys but the funeral home gave me the creeps.
“Are you collecting busts now?” Fab ran her hand over one bust’s head. “New art collection? They look hand-sculpted.”
“That’s our newest service,” Raul boasted. “You give us a picture of your loved one, and we commission the urn in the deceased’s image. Dates back to the Egyptian pharaohs. This way, you can have the statue as an art piece to put on display.”
Fab jerked her hand back. “There’s a dead person in here?”
“They’re just for display. Our clients prefer to see their choices up close. A catalog is so impersonal.”
“I don’t care for cremation,” Dickie said, frowning at the urns. Everyone knew he felt cheated when he didn’t get to give the deceased the sendoff he felt they deserved. He prided himself on his attention to detail.
Fab lifted the head off the brightly painted ceramic one and peered inside. She tipped it my way so I could see.
“We cremate the loved one, store the ashes until the urn arrives, and then present it to the client. We’re thinking of a very short handing-over ceremony to mark the moment as a pleasant memory,” Raul said.
I waited until both men were distracted by something and glared at Fab, jerking my head towards the door.
“We’ve got another appointment,” Fab said as she slipped over to Raul and hugged him. “I’ll send over a friend to install a security system on the garage. Locked doors aren’t enough. I’ll come back once it’s installed and check it out.”
Chapter 18
It was the perfect afternoon to lie back on an inflated chair sipping a margarita. The blue sky overhead was filled with fluffy white clouds, but in the distance, grey clouds were getting darker by the minute. Hopefully, the impending storm would veer west and stay out in the Gulf.
I paddled to the side of the pool. “I deserve this after a long day at the funeral home,” I said, setting down my glass.
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