Mourning Routine (The Funeral Fakers Book 1)

by S. E. Babin

  “Did it work?” My voice was muffled from being under my arms and on the toilet.

  “It did,” he said. I could tell he was smiling.

  “When I had a stomach ache, she’d make me a tea with peppermint and honey, and when I had girl problems, she’d switch the tea to rose.”

  “Is your mom a witch?”

  Seth laughed. “Not the broom riding kind, but maybe. She has a group of women who come over once a month. She insists it’s her book club, but they all look a little rock and roll to me.”

  “Seth?”

  “Hmm?”

  I lifted my head and promptly threw up.

  15

  It was on the third go of emptying out my stomach when the paramedics finally came to get me.

  They apologized profusely when they came in about taking so long, claiming they had to be careful of the crime scene out there. To me, it wasn’t really a crime scene because no one had died, but I was the one with my head currently stuck in a toilet, so I wasn’t sure anyone cared about my opinion.

  One of them put a blood pressure cuff around me, gasped, and promptly stuck me in the arm with a needle. The other debated with Seth about putting me on the stretcher.

  “It might be a while,” Seth said.

  “How long ago did you give it to her?” asked the paramedic.

  “A little over ten minutes ago.”

  I heard a deep sigh and then all was lost as I went another go with the porcelain gods.

  “She’s got about another twenty minutes to go,” Seth said. “Unless you want to sit her up and give her a bucket.”

  There was a long pause. I was sick but I wasn’t an idiot. I could tell the paramedic was debating exactly how much vomit he wanted to clean up after he got me to the hospital.

  The one who’d given me the shot growled something unintelligible at first, then snapped at the other guy. “Stop being a baby, Steve. Sit her up, give her a tray, and let’s take her.”

  “There’s no cure for her poison.”

  There was a scuffle above me followed by a bang and an urk noise. “Get. Her. In. The. Ambulance. You. Moron.”

  I gave everyone a thumbs up and hurled again.

  Less than ten minutes later, I was strapped in to the stretcher like a mental patient, with only enough leeway for my hands to hold a pink, plastic tub to my mouth. My stomach was still roiling, but I was hopeful that the worst was over. They rolled me through the house and once they got me outside, I saw Emma, Gary, and Sissy sitting on the tailgate of their truck. Emma gasped as soon as she saw me and came rushing over.

  “Kitty! Are you okay?”

  I gave her a weak smile. Seth took her by the elbow and led her away. After conferring with her for a moment, he jogged back over to me. The paramedics opened up the doors and hauled me into the ambulance. I waved at Seth but he rolled his eyes and hopped in after me.

  “You’re coming?” I said dumbly.

  “Of course I’m coming. Aunt Ruthie is going to be apoplectic when she finds out what happened tonight.” He winked at me. “I think I can convince her to give you hazard pay.”

  “That would be nice,” I said. The paramedic who stuck me the first time apologized and told me he was going to stick me again. I put out my bottom lip in a pout, just now noticing how devilishly handsome he was.

  “Hi,” I said.

  A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Hi. A little stick here and then it’s over, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Seconds later, he had an IV in and I was on a saline drip. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  He had dark brown hair and bright, sparkling green eyes. His skin was a lovely olive shade and he definitely worked out. “Tim,” he asked. He reattached a pulse monitor to my finger. “Usually in a case like this, I’d give you activated charcoal, but we have to wait for a while. You can’t take it within two hours of using Ipecac.”

  “There’s no cure, right?”

  He shook his head. “No ma’am.”

  “So why am I here?”

  A smile tugged his lips. “We’re monitoring and managing your symptoms. But, the fact that you’re talking right now and coherent is a very good sign. It doesn’t seem like you had enough exposure for any long-term damage.”

  I gave him a thumbs up. I never gave a thumbs up to anyone. What was wrong with me? “Not dying is awesome.”

  “Within an hour or two, you should start to feel much better. Though we still need to get you to the hospital for monitoring.”

  “My mom is going to be so mad,” I randomly offered.

  “Did you give her something for the pain?” Seth asked.

  Tim shook his head. “Her heart rate is already really low.”

  “She seems a little out of it,” he offered.

  “I’ve been poisoned, Seth Morrow,” I said. “Don’t judge me.”

  Seth’s brow crinkled together, and my eyes felt very heavy.

  Seconds later they closed and that was it.

  I woke up the next morning with pain in my arm and a mouth as dry as a desert. I cringed once my eyes opened at the bright white of the room.

  “Kitty?”

  I blinked a few times to adjust to the light. “Mom?”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed as her face came to view. “We were so worried. How in the world did you get poisoned by a plant?” Her voice rose higher and higher until her lower lip started to tremor and Dad gently pushed her over so he could see me, too. “Was this Ruthie’s fault?” my mother grumbled. “I swear I’m going to go down to Exit Stage Left and give that old bat a piece of my mind.”

  My father gave her a warning look before returning his attention to me. “Seth told us what happened. I think your boss owes you a raise.”

  I gave him a weak smile at his lame attempt at joking. “Sorry, Dad. It wasn’t my intention to wind up in the hospital on my first week of the job.” I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. Dad pushed the button for me and my bed straightened up slowly. “What happened? I don’t remember much after they put me in the ambulance.”

  A warm, honeyed voice spoke. “Despite the medicine they gave you, your blood pressure kept dropping. Your heart rate went bonkers and you fell unconscious.”

  “Seth.”

  “Hey, Kitty.” He stepped into the room holding an enormous vase of red and white roses. “Brought these for you.” He set them on the table beside my bed and stepped up closer.

  “Thank you.”

  He shook his head. “No, this was all you. If you hadn’t done what you did, Chase’s parents never would have known what really happened to him.”

  “You hit someone over the head with a shovel,” I argued.

  “You intentionally poisoned yourself and smashed someone in the face with an old Mason jar.”

  We grinned at each other. “She deserved it,” I said.

  “That she did. Candy and Butch were arrested and are now making themselves at home in the local jail. They’ll be transferred soon, though we don’t know where yet. Expect a visit from the police very soon. They’re keen to talk to you.”

  I gestured for the water on the table I couldn’t reach. “Can you hand that to me?”

  Seth handed it over and tried to help me drink before I swatted him away. “I got it.”

  A flash of hurt crossed his face before he nodded. “Sorry. Yesterday you were in rough shape.”

  I took several sips of water. “Thanks for making me throw up,” I said.

  Mom and Dad both burst out laughing.

  “That’s what friends are for.” He looked to my parents. “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford. I’ll leave you alone for now.”

  With a wave, he left out of the room and I couldn’t help but feel he’d taken the warmth with him. Mom stared at the door for a moment too long.

  “Well,” she said, “he seems like a nice man.”

  “Mom,” I groaned.

  “What? I’m just saying.” She wasn
’t just saying. She was plotting grandchildren from every eligible male who walked by. Mom patted my hand. “Ms. Ruthie called.”

  “Oh?” I inquired. “The old bat?”

  Mom had the grace to look abashed. “She said to tell you she’s hoping for a speedy recovery and happened to mention that she’d never had a case get quite so exciting before she hired you.”

  “I guess getting poisoned is very exciting when it isn’t you.”

  “The world is always more exciting when you aren’t the one being run over by it,” she said.

  Just then, the doc walked in. He was a tall and distinguished older looking gentleman with a pair of glasses and a stethoscope around his neck. He smiled when he walked in and Mom and Dad moved over to make room for him.

  “I see you’re awake this morning. It’s always good to wake up in the morning.”

  I sent a look to my mom. “Err, yes?”

  “So much better than not waking up.”

  Mom’s brow was wrinkling. Even Dad looked slightly concerned.

  “I would say so,” I agreed. “When do you think I can leave?”

  He looked down at the clipboard he carried and made some mm-hmm noises. “I’m afraid not today. After yesterday’s scare, we’re going to keep you one more night. We’re still running some blood work to check your organ functions, but so far everything is coming out all right. It’s just precautionary. Getting into monkshood is no joke, Ms. Crawford. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

  If learning my lesson was deciding not to throw a glass jar at a murderer in desperation and hope for my life, I couldn’t say I’d learned anything. I gave a noncommittal hum in response.

  His glasses slid down on his nose. “There’s a case documented in the UK, I think, where a gardener merely brushed against monkshood. He was dead within twenty-four hours.”

  I blinked at the doctor. “You have a terrible bedside manner, sir.”

  He coughed over a laugh. “My apologies, Miss Crawford. I tend to take more than a scientific interest in cases like these. As far as the unfortunate soul in UK, they could never definitively prove it was the Monkshood that killed him. They waited too long to test him for it.” He peered down at the chart again. “But we know for sure with you.”

  Well… yes. No kidding. I was the one who grabbed the roots of the plant like a big ol’ idiot. I tried to steer him away from his weird fascination with poisonous plants. “Tomorrow then?” I asked. “I can leave this fine establishment and return to my life of leisure?”

  Mom snorted with amusement. We both knew there was no time for leisure when you were as broke as I was.

  “More than likely, yes,” the doctor said. “But I don’t want you working for the rest of the week.”

  “Bummer,” I muttered.

  He looked up from his clipboard. “Most people would be happy for the time off.”

  “I’m in dire need of a paycheck,” I said.

  Mom clucked her tongue and Dad sighed. “You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he said.

  “Or ever,” my mother chimed in. I knew they meant it right now. Give it six months and they’d be leaving ads for apartments discreetly around their house.

  “Just a few more days,” the doc assured me. “Then you can get back to whatever it was that got you here in the first place. Well… preferably without the accidental poisoning.” He chuckled like he’d said the most hilarious thing but in my experience, accidental poisonings were only funny when they were on a television sitcom and resulted in funny shenanigans. Not Ipecac syrup, an ambulance ride, and a murder investigation.

  “Righto,” I said, while simultaneously praying for him to get out of my room.

  The doctor made a few more checks, peered at my vital signs beeping on the machine beside me and bid us a good day.

  “That man was...something,” my mother said.

  “Did you feel like you were being pranked?” my dad asked, still staring at the door.

  “Let’s just pray he graduated medical school,” I said. “I can handle some weirdness as long as there’s competence to go along with it.”

  “Maybe we should see if Seth can get you a new doctor,” Mom suggested.

  “Mom! Why would Seth handle something like that?”

  Mom and Dad shared a guilty look. “Well...he did tell the staff he was here as your fiancé…”

  I felt like I’d swallowed a toad and it had gotten stuck in my windpipe, but before I could screech out my dismay, Mom interrupted me.

  “Oh, honey. It was the only way he could stay with you last night.”

  I shut my mouth. “Seth stayed here?” What the heck?

  Dad nodded, his face somber. “He did. He woke up first thing this morning and called us before he even had coffee. He didn’t have our number and had to go through his Aunt to figure it out.”

  All the annoyance fell away. Why was Seth making me think he was a good guy?

  Maybe because he is, I thought. “That was nice.” The response felt lame, even to me.

  Mom gave me a long look. “It was. And if we remember the manners I taught you when you were little, you are going to remember to say thank you, aren’t you?”

  “Mom.” I rolled my eyes at her.

  “Kitty.”

  “Fine. Yes. I’ll say thank you,” I grumbled.

  “Good.” My mother grabbed her purse. “Since you seem to be okay, your father and I are going to grab a bite to eat. We won’t be gone long. I called your sister and she wanted to talk, but you were still sleeping. She’s going to call sometime this afternoon.”

  Disappointment hit me. I hadn’t talked to her in a while. Shame I had to because of hospitalization. “Okay.” I lifted the non IV’d hand up in a little wave. “Have fun, you two.”

  Mom brushed a kiss across my cheek. “Seth will be back later.” She winked at me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Go away, Mom,” I said, but softened it with a smile.

  A few moments later, my parents left the room, finally leaving me with my thoughts. What a weird few days it had been. I felt okay this morning, way better than I felt yesterday. I'd only touched those flowers for a few seconds at most, but from what Seth said, the root was the worst part of it, and that was what I handled. Too bad you couldn’t really think straight when your life was on the line. I hadn't asked about Candy or Butch, though knowing they were in jail was pretty comforting.

  Of all the things to happen to me on my first few days of work, I'd never thought a murder investigation would be one of them. Although, from the second I searched Chase's room, I had an inkling something wasn't quite right. It was just hunting down the evidence that really got me into this mess.

  Then there was Seth. Mortal enemy turned...what? Friend? Maybe. My feelings about him were quite tangled up right now, though he was responsible for getting me here and getting most of the poison out of my system by having that Ipecac syrup in his car. If there was ever a person I wanted to meet, it was Seth's mom. She sounded like a hoot. I wondered what else she made Seth carry around. A smile rose to my lips. I was glad this was over and glad to be alive.

  A sharp knock on the door roused me out of my thoughts.

  "Yes?" I called.

  "It's Sheriff Burch," a deep voice said, from the other side. "I'd like to ask you a few questions if that's okay."

  I looked down to make sure my hospital gown wasn't skewed and that my blankets were covering up all the necessary parts. "Come in," I said, once I was satisfied I wasn't going to embarrass myself.

  The man stepped in and I was immediately reminded of an old western where the grizzled gunslinger comes in and starts asking questions. He had a no-nonsense gleam in his eyes and a handlebar mustache that looked stiff enough for someone to swing on it. I smiled at him in greeting, and he met that smile with zero expression except for a blank stare. He was of indeterminate age… maybe thirty, maybe sixty. Kind of like Sam Elliott, preserved in time and ageless. He was
handsome, but I wasn't sure if he was nice.

  There was no good cop coming in behind him, so I wondered if Bad Cop was just his personality.

  "Hello, Sheriff Burch."

  A stiff nod from him. "May I?" he inquired as he motioned toward the chair, and I was immediately intrigued by his proper grammar usage.

  "You may," I said.

  I thought I saw a hint of something touch his mouth. Assuming it was a smile might have been too ambitious. He sat down in the chair beside my bed and had to look up to see me. Part of me thought that was a nice touch. He was putting himself out of a position of authority and deferring to me. Considering someone had gotten me undressed and in a hospital gown last night, feeling like I was in charge felt really nice.

  "I hope you're feeling better," he said. "I'm here to ask you some questions about Candy Harper. Do you have a few minutes?"

  I looked down at the hand currently attached to about five different wires and shrugged. "I mean, I have a date in an hour and have to fix my hair, but I guess so."

  Steel blue eyes held mine. "Funny," he quipped, though it was so deadpan I didn't think he thought I was funny at all. So, of course, this made me bound and determined to get him to smile.

  "No, I'm serious. I have a man coming down here and he's going to push me into the cafeteria for strawberry Jello. We've had these plans for weeks."

  Sheriff Burch held my gaze, reached into his front pocket, and pulled out his small notebook. He didn't blink so I felt like I couldn't blink and so we sat there holding each other's gaze like we couldn't decide if we loved each other or wanted to tear each other's hair out.

  I knew which way I was leaning, but I was not so prone to violence, so I decided to try to like him a little better.

  "Jello? That stuff tastes like my mouth feels after a night of drinking whiskey and playing poker,” he said after a moment.

  I snorted in spite of myself. "It sounds like you have some vices you might need to work on, Sheriff."

  "You, too, if you consider Jello a date."