by Chris Taylor
“Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good,” Braydon’s mom said with a smile.
Jacob grinned and continued. “I was always keen for a challenge, always feeling the need to prove I was as tough and brave as Lane, so I was the first to attempt the jump. Unfortunately, Lane had miscalculated. When I hit the boards on my BMX, the drums moved sideways and I ended up smashed on the ground. Eight stitches later, I was good to go.” He tied off the last suture and grinned down at Braydon. “Just like you are. We’re all done.”
The boy stared up at him, his eyes wide with admiration. “Do you still have the scar?”
“Yes, I do. After all these years.”
“Will I have a scar?”
“Probably. A small one, at any rate.”
“Cool! I’ll be able to tell everyone about how I got it! Thanks, Doctor!”
“No problem,” Jacob laughed. “But I don’t want to see you in here too often. It’s not good for your mom’s stress levels and you need to take care of her. Who else is going to bring you into the emergency department when you need patching up?”
Braydon grinned. “I’ll look after her, I promise.” He turned to stare up at his mom. “Won’t I, Mom?”
Braydon’s mother ruffled his hair and pressed an affectionate kiss on his cheek. “You sure will, honey.”
Jacob’s heart clenched at the loving glance that passed between them. His father had been killed in the line of duty when Jacob and Toby were three and their mother had now been gone two years. Two years… The same amount of time he’d spent in prison…
The memory of his mother waving good-bye as he was escorted away by the corrections officers flooded his mind. He’d seen the tears coursing down her cheeks and it had been all he could do to hold back his own. He’d bitten his tongue until he tasted blood, unwilling to let her see how upset and scared he was as the first day of his sentence began.
Virginia Black had been just thirty-two when she was widowed. Her husband had been a decorated police officer, high up in the DEA. He’d been responsible for putting many a drug dealer behind bars, before he was fatally wounded by a bullet from an addict high on cocaine.
Overnight, Jacob’s mom lost her husband and was faced with the reality of raising four kids on her own. Jacob’s youngest brother, Rusty, was barely six months old at the time. Still, they might have been deprived of a father, but there had never been a shortage of love. As a single mom, Virginia had worked hard to raise her boys and provide for them as well as she could. He was forever grateful for the sacrifices she’d made. He missed her even more at times like this.
“What do you say to the doctor, Braydon?”
The gently voiced question jolted him out of his memories and Jacob smiled at the mother and son.
The boy sat up on the bed. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“No problem, Braydon,” Jacob replied. “Take it easy, and be careful, okay?”
With another nod of gratitude, Braydon’s mom helped him from the bed and together, they left the ward. Turning back to the tray containing the used dressing pack, suture material and disinfectant, Jacob couldn’t hold back a sigh. Bridget eyed him curiously.
“That sounds awfully heavy, Doctor Black? What’s the matter?”
Jacob glanced across at her and forced a smile. “It’s nothing.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing.”
His gaze strayed to her face and then skimmed over her body. Even wearing the shapeless uniform, it was clear the nurse had a nice figure. The bodice of her dress stretched over her breasts, revealing a generous cleavage before falling loosely over rounded hips. Her eyes were clear and friendly and with a start, he spied a spark of interest in their blue depths. He’d worked with Bridget for nearly a year and had never noticed her before. Now, when he’d finally taken the time to really look at her, he realized all he could think about was Hannah.
* * *
Hannah reached for the jar of formaldehyde and refilled her syringe. She glanced at Toby, gauging his reaction. “How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m good. Don’t worry about me. I find all of this really fascinating.”
She smiled, glad that he hadn’t freaked out when she’d introduced him to their latest client. “You don’t mind the smell?”
Toby scrunched up his nose like a child would, but then grinned. “I’ve smelled worse.”
Hannah laughed and was sure he spoke the truth. Though he was now looking cleaner—after another shower at home and one that morning before he left for work—there was still a residual odor clinging to his skin. He probably wasn’t even aware of it. She was sure it wasn’t his own body odor he referred to.
“Why are you injecting that stuff into her?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“The formaldehyde is a preserving agent. It also gives the body a more lifelike appearance. It plumps out the features and helps them look less drawn. It’s worked magic on this woman, don’t you think?” She grinned.
Toby nodded. “It sure has. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes. See that trocar on the counter? I need it over here, along with the pump and tubing under the sink.”
Toby looked in the direction she pointed and quickly moved to where the equipment sat. Picking it up, he brought it to her.
“Thanks, just leave it on the table, there.”
“What do you do with it?” he asked, pointing.
“This drains the body fluids from our lady’s nooks and crannies. I insert the trocar just here, under her ribs, and then we start the pump. Make sure the end of the tubing is hanging in the sink, or we’ll have a mess everywhere.”
She grinned at him and he grinned back. A surge of pleasure went through her. It was so nice sharing her day with someone who found her work as enjoyable and interesting as she did.
“There, that should do it,” she murmured and then bent down to start the pump. The quiet hum of the aspiration machine filled the room. A moment later, dark, viscous fluid began to drain into the sink.
“Now, that’s what I call a stink!” Toby laughed and pinched the sides of his nose together.
She winked at him. “You’re right. It’s not entirely pleasant, but you get used to it.”
The door to the embalming room swung open and Max filled the opening. “I’m looking for that no-good, lazy nephew of mine,” he said without preamble. “Has anyone seen him?”
“Good morning to you, too, Max,” Hannah said dryly.
Her boss flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, good morning, Hannah and you, too, Toby. It’s good to see you back.”
Toby looked puzzled. “I thought you gave me a job, Mr Grace? Why wouldn’t I be back?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Max hastily apologized. “And of course I gave you a job. It’s yours for however long you want it. We must sort out your pay. Do you have a bank account?”
Toby lowered his gaze and slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“Not to worry,” Max said cheerfully. “We’ll work something out.”
“I could take you down to the bank on our lunch break and open an account for you,” Hannah offered Toby. “Do you have any ID? They’ll need at least a driver’s license and a Medicare card, or something of that nature.”
“I don’t have any of those,” Toby replied, concern now shadowing his eyes.
“That’s all right,” Max assured him. “I’m happy to pay you in cash. I’ve done it before for some of my other employees in your situation. It won’t be a problem.”
Relief flooded Toby’s features and Hannah felt tears burn behind her eyes. Her boss was the kindest, most charitable soul ever. The only person she’d ever seen him have harsh words with was his nephew and from what Hannah had seen of Bobby Grace, he pretty much deserved it.
“Now, as I asked before, have either of you seen my nephew? I sent him over to the hospital early this morning to collect a body from the morgue and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Perhaps he’s been delayed?” Hannah suggested kindly.
Max grimaced. “Yes, delayed by his girlfriend, no doubt. Or perhaps he’s with his bookmaker this time? Or worse, his dealer. He always has some excuse and it’s never anything to do with what he’s being paid to do.”
Hannah remained silent and returned to finalizing her preparations for the woman on her table. The aspiration process had been completed. Removing the trocar and tubing, she handed both to Toby who took them and the pump back over to the sink.
“What’s next?” he asked curiously.
“Now we inject another kind of fluid between the thoracic and abdominal cavities,” she explained. “It will saturate all the organs and eliminate any residual odors.”
Toby absorbed her response and nodded. “Good.”
Max smiled. “It sounds like you’re going to fit in just fine here, Toby. I’m so glad our paths crossed.”
“Me, too,” Toby replied, ducking his head shyly. “And thank you, Mr Grace. You don’t know how grateful I am that you were willing to take me on. Apart from my family and Hannah, no one’s ever been so kind to me before. I… I don’t know what to say.”
Max beamed with pleasure and came over and patted Toby on the shoulder. “Don’t think anything of it, son. I do my best to help my fellow man. It’s the reason we’re all put here on earth, isn’t it?”
Hannah smiled at the pair of them, her heart filling with contentment. What Max said was right. They could all try a little harder to extend the hand of friendship and kindness to their fellow man. It would surely make the world a better place to live. She thought of Jacob and how he’d told her about searching long and hard for his brother and though she didn’t doubt his sincerity, she couldn’t help but feel sad about how long it had taken him to find his twin—and the missed opportunities they’d never have again.
“Now, Toby,” Max added, clearing his throat. “As a new employee of my funeral home, I’d like you to stop by and visit my doctor, if that’s all right. His offices are only a few blocks away.”
Toby frowned. “Do I look sick, Mr Grace? I don’t feel sick.”
Max laughed. “No, son, you don’t look sick. And please, call me Max. It’s just that I like to have my workers checked over and given a good bill of health. It’s standard procedure with new employees. I’ll make an appointment for you in the morning, if that suits?”
Toby glanced in Hannah’s direction. She shrugged and nodded. She couldn’t remember Max requesting she undergo a medical, but then, she hadn’t been living on the streets.
“I could drop you off at the medical center on my way to work, if you like?” she offered.
Max nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. I’ll give you the details as soon as I’ve made an appointment. Is that all right with you, Toby?”
Toby smiled enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, Mr Gr—Max. Whatever you say.”
“Good. Then that’s settled. “Now, where is my nephew?”
It was more than an hour later that Hannah spied Bobby’s large form slipping into the funeral parlor through the rear door, pushing a gurney. On it was a body wrapped in a plastic sheet. He nodded a brief greeting and then his gaze fell on Toby.
“Who do we have here?” he asked, halting mid-stride, a look of confusion taking over as he studied Toby.
Hannah made the introductions. “This is Toby. Toby, meet Bobby Grace.”
“Are you Max’s nephew?” Toby asked.
“That’s me,” Bobby responded with a grimace. “And believe me, some days that feels more like a curse than a blessing.”
Hannah frowned at his comment. The man was way too rude. The way she’d heard it, his uncle had taken him in and gotten him clean and given him a house and a job when Bobby’s immediate family refused to have anything to do with him. The man ought to show his uncle a little more gratitude and respect.
“You shouldn’t talk about your uncle like that,” she replied, eyeing him balefully.
“What are you going to do?” he sneered. “Run and tell on me?”
“You’re really tall,” Toby said. “How tall are you? I’m tall, but not as tall as you.”
Bobby’s confusion faded to narrow-eyed irritation. “Why the fuck would you care about my height, you idiot?”
Hannah’s temper simmered just below the surface. It was only her sure knowledge that her anger was wasted on the likes of Bobby Grace that kept her from exploding. Ignoring her, Bobby turned his sneer on Toby.
“I see my dear old uncle hasn’t tired of dragging in hobos off the street. Where did he find you? Central Station? You look a little familiar. Perhaps I’ve seen you under one of those fig trees in Hyde Park. I hope you fare better than the last hobo who worked here. Has my uncle told you what happened to Christopher?”
Toby’s face reflected his hurt and shock and confusion. In an instant, Hannah’s anger found its head.
“For your information, Toby has a very nice family. He has three brothers and all of them live in Sydney, so keep your nasty assumptions to yourself.” She folded her arms across her chest and continued. “Get out, Bobby. Don’t you have work to do? We don’t need the likes of you here. Take your spitefulness elsewhere.”
Bobby’s sneer turned uglier and a calculating gleam entered his eyes. He sauntered toward her, crowding her space. She backed up and found herself against the wall. He reached out and traced a finger down her cheek. She froze and a menacing chuckle turned up his lips.
Apart from very infrequent once-overs, he’d never before shown any interest in her as a woman, but all of a sudden, she wasn’t sure if his disinterest had been an act. His hand slipped lower and skimmed her breast. She gasped. The scars that criss-crossed his face stood out against his skin. Fear made her heart beat faster.
“Not so brave now, are you, little Miss Goody Two-shoes,” he smirked. “I know what you’re trying to do—turning my uncle against me. It isn’t going to work. Blood’s thicker than water, sweetheart. There’s no way my uncle will give this place to anyone else but me.”
Hannah gasped again, shocked at the direction of his thoughts. He wasn’t trying to come onto her at all. He was trying to scare her. She’d been working at the funeral home for six years, but it never occurred to her to even consider Max might leave the place to her. It was obvious the possibility had been playing on Bobby’s mind.
“You’re crazy!” she said. “Max would never leave this place to me and I wouldn’t want him to. You’re his only family and the sole heir. It’s only right that he leave it to you, but I suggest you start earning your right to it rather than slouching off all the time. Max has done so much for you already. A little gratitude wouldn’t go astray.”
Bobby eyeballed her in silence, his breath coming fast. With a muttered curse, he backed away from her and spun around on his heel. He stalked out of the room and a moment later, she heard the sound of the front door slamming.
So much for her pep talk.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jacob took a sip from his mug of coffee and thought about his brother. He wondered how Toby and Hannah were getting on. He hadn’t seen or heard from either of them for a few days.
With a sigh, he turned the page of the newspaper and did his best to put his brother out of his mind. Knowing Hannah was looking out for his twin should be enough to ease his worry. With a determined shake of the paper, he skimmed the headlines and took a moment to catch up on the happenings around Sydney and the rest of the state. He’d found the newspaper in the staff tea room. It was more than a week old, but the date didn’t matter. It had been at least that long since he’d caught the six o’clock news.
With the advent of digital devices, newspapers and television news services were almost redundant these days, but he hadn’t even had time to pull out his iPad. The emergency room had been inundated with a rush of children suffering fevers and gastro bugs and a three-car pile-up on Parramatta Road had kept everyone on their feet.
A busy Fr
iday night the week before, dealing with the usual assortment of assaults and alcohol-induced accidents, had spilled over into Saturday and apart from the handful of hours he’d spent at the hospital ball, it felt like he’d barely drawn breath. He had two rostered days off starting the next day and couldn’t wait.
A small headline in the bottom half of the opened page caught his attention: Dead Man Linked to Balmain Funeral Home.
The story went on to say a man in his mid-forties had been found dead at the foot of the stairs inside a city hostel frequented by people living on the fringes of society. An autopsy revealed that the man had an extremely high alcohol level and it was surmised by the police that he’d tripped and fallen down the stairs. The man suffered a broken neck and it was the coroner’s opinion that he’d died instantly. He’d been identified by a pay packet found in the pocket of his pants—Edward Sutton had been employed by the Max Grace Funeral Home.
Jacob frowned. Ordinarily, the article wouldn’t catch his interest, but the mention of the same funeral home where Toby now worked, intrigued him. He’d been hired right after the man had been found dead. Perhaps that employee’s death was the reason Toby had been offered the position? It was a sad way for a job vacancy to open up.
Glancing at the clock on the wall of the tea room, he folded the paper and tossed it back onto the table and then finished the last of his coffee. His break was over. It was time to climb back into the trenches and deal with whatever needed to be done.
* * *
Toby took his time to carefully wash and comb the hair of the man laid out on the steel gurney. He glanced across at Hannah.
“What’s life insurance, Hannah?” he asked, his tone full of quiet curiosity.
Hannah paused midway through drying the man’s feet and looked up at her assistant. “It’s something you pay for to help out your family in the event of your death. An insurance company charges you a premium and, in return, if you die before a certain age, they pay out a sum to your estate. Why do you ask?”