Down & Dead In Dixie (Down & Dead, Inc. Series)

by Vicki Hinze

  “They ain’t hurt.” Lester grunted. “Paul and Barry had a trap waiting for ’em.” A light of pure excitement burned in Lester’s eyes. “Soon as they tried busting into the funeral home, Barry snagged ’em up in a net and hoisted ’em twenty feet straight up in the air.” He swung a hand skyward.

  “Oh, my gosh. You’re kidding me.” The image of those two cutthroats dangling in a net from a tree . . . “They must have been furious.”

  “Oh, they’re furious all right, but it wasn’t Marcello and Adriano what got snagged, Rose. One of the men, we didn’t know. But the other one was Lou Boudin.”

  Edward’s shooter. “He’s here, too?” I couldn’t believe it.

  “Paul left ’em hanging until the sheriff arrived. He didn’t insist they be arrested. Ain’t sure I agree with that, but when a bear’s snarling ain’t no time to stick a thorn in his paw. We figured since Boudin’s with Adriano then the other one’s gotta be working for Marcello. Paul told the sheriff he could let ’em go, provided they kept their distance ’til the funerals. They could all see you both then with their own eyes.”

  My shock doubled. Tripled. And then shot straight off the chart. “He told them, what?”

  “I can’t believe Paul invited them to our funerals to see our bodies.” Matthew groaned. “How does he plan to pull that off?”

  “Beats me. Truly does,” Lester said with a shrug. “But the man said to trust him, and we all agreed, so I guess we gotta do it.”

  I looked around the table from one nervous face to another. “So if we’re trusting him on that and on his handling of this crisis, then why are you here at three in the morning?”

  Lester gave me an owl-eyed look, then snapped to on the matter. “They’ve got folks watching the funeral home. All of ’em, on both sides of the law. Paul says I gotta get you two back there right now, if not sooner.”

  “Lester,” I softened my voice and tried to calm down. “If all of them have spies watching the funeral home, then how are we supposed to get back there?”

  “Emily got herself killed last night—like you did.”

  “Same curve,” Emily said. “People die out there all the time, so no one thought a thing of it.”

  “Why did you have to die?” I asked.

  Her cheeks flushed and she dropped her gaze. “I went back to Dixie to take care of a little business and I made a mistake. I got spotted.” She lifted her hands. “Had no choice but to die so Paul took care of it.”

  “That’s some mistake,” Matthew said.

  “Sure was.” Her face brightened. “But at least now they think I’m cooling my heels at the morgue, so all is well again.”

  “They?” I asked. Who spotted Emily, and why was that a bad thing?

  “Actually, he.” Emily frowned. “Victor Marcello.”

  My jaw went lax. “You know him, too?”

  “I did at one time.” She looked away. “A long, long time ago.”

  “Then why is him spotting you now worrisome enough that you had to die?”

  She cocked her head. “Time don’t change some things, pet. That’s just the truth of it.”

  Clearly, she didn’t want to get specific or even to discuss it. I didn’t like it, but I liked the sadness in her eyes even less, so I respected her choice and didn’t ask the questions rapid-firing through my mind. “Well, if Mr. Perini wants us back in a hurry, we’d better go.” I stood up. “Wait.” The logistics hit me. “How are we all supposed to get where we’re supposed to be?” Us to Mr. Perini’s, Emily to the morgue, and Lester at only heaven knows where and none of us had transportation.

  Lester hiked a bony shoulder and pushed out of his chair. “All I can tell you is I’m to take you to a drop-off point,” he said to Emily, “and the two of you to another one.” His chair’s legs lightly scraped the floor. “When Paul’s moving Emily from the morgue to the funeral home, you two will be hooking up with the hearse.”

  Matthew rolled his gaze ceiling-ward. “I can’t believe the coroner goes along with all this.”

  “Course you can.” Lester gathered the cups and washed them at the sink. “You seen it happen yourself.”

  The lilt in his voice caught my ear. Pure mischief. “Wrong question, Matthew.”

  “What’s the right question?”

  I tilted my head. “Why does the Coroner put up with all this?”

  Lester smiled.

  “What?” Mark asked, clearly still not following.

  I touched Mark’s arm. “I suspect he’s been dead before too, and I also suspect Mr. Perini helped him start over in Dixie.”

  “Ah…” Matthew nodded. “That would make sense then, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would.” Lester checked his watch. “Hate it for you kids, but the honeymoon’s over. We got less than sixty minutes to get out to the drop-off point.”

  “What if Mr. Perini’s being watched, too?” Matthew hitched his jeans.

  “Beats me.” Lester shrugged. “Trust he’s got it all worked out.”

  “But what if—”

  “Rose, Lester knows what we know. We have to trust the man,” Matthew said. “Mr. Perini’s gotten us this far. Let’s have a little faith.”

  “All right. But this trusting business is new to me, you know?”

  “I know, and you’re doing better at it than I expected.” Matthew clasped my arm, gave it a little squeeze.

  “You really think so?” I looked up at him. “I’m trying, but it’s hard. I’ve been alone and in control for a long time.”

  “Spitwads and fudgesicles,” Lester fussed. “Emily, grab Rose’s stuff. She’s of a mind to jaw a while and we gotta hurry.”

  I frowned at Lester and gathered my own things.

  Within minutes, we headed out the door and toward a waiting carriage. Looking smart in his uniform, Speckles stood holding its door.

  He smiled as broadly as if it were mid-afternoon. “Watch your step, please.”

  When we were seated in the carriage, Speckles cracked the reins, and the familiar clopping of horse’s hooves moved us away from the village and toward the bridge to the main gate.

  “So what did you think of Sampson Park?” Lester asked me.

  I loved it here. Simple, peaceful. Interesting. “It’s a wonderful place.”

  “Some say it’s magical, though I ain’t seen that side of it myself.”

  “In a way, maybe it is, Lester.” I looked to a house where a single light burned. “Broken people heal here. I met a little girl in the woods, and she told me fascinating stories. I just wish . . .”

  “What?” he asked.

  “She lives in a cottage a couple doors down, and she carries this teddy bear, Miss Dixie, all the time.”

  “Ah,” Lester said. “Miss Dixie is sad, eh?”

  “The little girl is sad. Miss Dixie is a well-adjusted chatterbox.”

  Matthew added his perspective. “The child’s father died, but she’s not accepting it. That’s why she’s here.”

  Her father. That’s who she watched for all the time. My heart shattered and crumbled. “How’d you know that?” I asked Mark. Neither Gracie nor Miss Dixie had said anything about Gracie’s dad.

  “The gardener guy in the cottage on the other side of them told me.”

  “Brad Nelson,” I supplied his name.

  “Seems you two met a lot of people here.” Lester looked at Emily, then at Mark. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  “Rose and Matthew met a lot of people here. Ones who are staying here. We avoided Outsiders.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Lester nodded.

  “So where do you two stay when you’re here?”

  Emily put a staying hand on Lester’s thigh. “At the Main House.”

  In minutes, we passed that Main House, and Speckles halted the horses at the gate. I had mixed emotions about leaving. Our time here had been carefree. I wasn’t eager to step back into the chaos.

  The guard appeared and asked about lockers and cell p
hones or any other contraband we had placed in storage, we declared we had none and he nodded, giving us permission to exit.

  Mark reached for my hand, seemingly as reluctant as me to leave our idyllic time behind.

  “I loved it here, too,” I said. “With you.”

  “You always know exactly what’s on my mind.”

  I wished that were true. If I did, I’d know whether or not my husband loved me. Oh, he respected me, cared for me, was protective of me. But none of that meant he loved me now, or that he would ever love me. Sooner or later, I’d work up the guts to just ask him, but it wouldn’t be now. Not because I’d be scared of him saying he didn’t. Because if he turned around and asked the same question of me, I wouldn’t be able to answer him. What I think and what I know are two different things.

  What most worried me was that, being clueless about love, how could I ever know with certainty if I was in it?

  Having no answer to that generational question, I watched Emily step away from us. “I’ll see you soon.”

  She walked back through the gate and Speckles helped her into the carriage. I slid into Lester’s black Lexus and buckled up, confused that she wouldn’t be riding along at least on this part of the return trip. “Why isn’t she coming with us?”

  “She needs to get back sooner.”

  “So she’s taking a carriage?” Lester logic strikes again.

  “Yep.” He grinned. “To the helicopter, waiting for her.”

  I grunted. “Not inside Sampson Park it isn’t.”

  “No, not inside Sampson Park.”

  Lester seemed fine with whatever was going on, so I took my cue from him and hushed. It wasn’t as if I needed to borrow trouble to find any. We had plenty. With all the players gathered in Dixie, this was not going to be a pleasant funeral—if we lived long enough to make it to it.

  At the moment, it seemed impossible that Mr. Perini would be able to pull off getting us back into the funeral home and that, in my book, made our survival odds pretty iffy…

  The bronze monument at the foot of the bridge flashed through my mind. Its words replayed in my mind.

  With faith, all things are possible.

  I don’t know how Mr. Perini will do this, but I decided to believe he will.

  And again I heard the secret of secrets of Sampson Park.

  We’re all someone’s bridge.

  Chapter 20

  WE ARRIVED IN Dixie before sunrise.

  Lester pulled into a service station, then drove around back. What was he doing? “Lester, that’s a car wash. You’re getting your car washed at four-thirty in the morning?”

  “Yep.” He drove in. The washing and drying began, thumping those heavy ragged strips against the car. It inched forward and a healthy spray started. Wax. “Get out.”

  “What?” Matthew and I asked simultaneously.

  Lester looked back at Matthew and me. “Get out. Walk straight through that door and get into the hearse. Move it now, or we’ll be too late.”

  “The machine is still spraying hot wax, Lester.” I stated the obvious.

  “Rose Green, move it!”

  We stepped into the spray, got soaked with hot wax, then angled through the side door. On the other side, the hearse door stood open. Its lights were on and its engine running. I guess not that many people want to steal a hearse.

  Jumping inside, I rolled toward the center and bumped a half-zipped body bag. “Sorry, Emily.”

  “No problem. Zip me up, will you?” she asked. I did, and felt Matthew graze my back. He pulled the door shut.

  Barry came out of the little store to the right with a fountain drink in his hand. He got in and closed his door, then buckled his safety belt. “Everybody here?”

  “We’re here,” Emily said.

  “You okay, Miss Emily?” Barry asked her, plopping his cup into a holder.

  “Fine,” she said. “Dying’s a snap, hon. It’s living that’s hard.”

  “Amen, ma’am.” He hit the gas and pulled the hearse into the street. “You two get into the bags back there, just in case.”

  We helped each other, and Matthew zipped me in. “How will you get yours zipped?”

  “I’m fine, Rose. Don’t worry.”

  Minutes later, Barry asked, “You watching, Matthew?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “We being followed?” Emily asked.

  Barry responded before Matthew could. “Three cars full of them, best I can tell.”

  “Three?” I lay stunned. “What if they saw—”

  “They didn’t.” Matthew patted my thigh. “They would’ve stopped us already.”

  How could he be sure of that?

  “They can’t see through brick walls, honey,” he added, obviously sensing my skepticism. “For the moment, we’re fine. Just relax and remember you’re dead . . .”

  By the time we reached the funeral home, I was having muscle spasms all over my body. I’d gotten used to being relaxed at Sampson Park and somehow I’d forgotten about these enemies, but now we were back and so were they. With a vengeance.

  Pulling around to the back of Mr. Perini’s funeral home, Barry stopped on the crunchy gravel. Soon the sounds of the broad door opening on the huge metal building filled the vehicle. When the sound stopped, Barry pulled inside and cut the engine. The big door came down again. “Stay put, until I’m sure we’re clear.”

  A door sounded—likely the one from the breezeway between the funeral home and the metal building—and then footfalls. “Barry, you have them all?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Perini.” Barry unzipped our bags.

  “Ah, good. All will soon be well,” Mr. Perini said, a body bag in his hand.

  “That it?” Barry asked nodding toward that body bag.

  “Yep.” He passed it over to Barry.

  “Good. It’s the only one that stands a chance of being big enough for all three of them.”

  Now I understood. We were going to be packed into one bag like sardines for transport. Grateful it was just for the short ride, I bit my tongue, hoping it wouldn’t be hard on Emily.

  Barry and Mr. Perini spread the bag on a gurney. Lester held the foot of it.

  Matthew climbed on and lay flat on his back. “Come on, Rose.”

  I climbed up and took my place and motioned to Emily. “Ready.”

  “Oh, Lester, there’s no dignity in a woman my age crawling around like this.”

  He chuckled. “There’s dignity in life, Em. Come on now. You can do it.”

  Her elbow smacked me in the ribs. I let out a heartfelt “Oomph.”

  “You okay, pet? I’m so sorry.”

  “I'm fine.”

  Behind me, I felt Matthew grinning. “She’s sliding!”

  Matthew’s arms shot up and wrapped my sides. He grabbed fists full of the back of Emily’s blouse. Lester, Barry and Mr. Perini stepped closer and helped Emily get balanced. It took us all but soon we lay stacked like a sandwich on the gurney.

  “I think I got the best of this,” Emily said. “Am I squashing you, pet?”

  “No, I’m fine. Matthew, you okay?”

  “Great.”

  I smiled. “This is as good as it’s going to get, Mr. Perini.”

  Emily swayed. “Oh, dear. Don’t let me fall off here.”

  Barry stepped to the other side of the gurney. “I’ve got you, Miss Emily.”

  “I’ve got you, too,” I told her, feeling like the stuffing of an Oreo cookie. “I’m going to hold tight until we’re off this thing. We’re not going to fall.”

  “You could slide, too.”

  “Matthew can’t slide, and he’s got me.” I tightened my grip on her. “And I’ve got you. We’re going to be fine.” We’re all someone’s bridge.

  “Mr. Perini, if you’ve got a compassionate bone in your body . . .” Matthew didn’t finish.

  “I know, son. I’m hurrying.” He worked up the zipper. “It’s tight, but we made it. Barry, let’s roll.”

&nb
sp; The gurney wheels began moving and before the guy’s voices stopped echoing to signal they’d entered the breezeway, Barry uttered a deep, “Uh-oh.”

  I stiffened. So did Matthew and Emily. The wheels kept rolling so I had no idea what that “Uh-oh” meant, but I didn’t like it.

  The floor surface changed and the ride smoothed out and then changed again. We were inside the funeral home.

  “What are you doing back here?” Mr. Perini asked someone not yet identified.

  “There was no one at the desk,” a man said. “Is that Emily?”

  Emily turned wooden and Matthew tensed all over. “Marcello,” he whispered at my ear.

  “It is,” Mr. Perini told Marcello. “And like I told your men, you can’t see her without a next-of-kin permission.”

  “You know I can’t get one,” Marcello grumbled. “Darby won’t let me anywhere near Sampson Park, and she never sticks her head out of that no-man’s land she’s built.”

  Emily was the same Emily who owned Sampson Park? I couldn’t believe it. But she needed cataract surgery. She had no money. Whoever owned Sampson Park clearly had bucketsful of money.

  “I’m truly sorry, Mr. Marcello,” Paul said. “Our families go back a long way.”

  “To Sicily.”

  “Yes, and you know for that reason, I would help you if I could. I do understand your issue, and I offer my condolences on the loss of your son.”

  “Edward was a good boy.”

  “I’m sure he was.”

  “He loved to eat. Good food, not trash. Good food.” Victor Marcello’s voice cracked. “Too many young people today don’t appreciate good food.”

  “You’re welcome to come back for the service.”

  “I’ll be here for Daisy and Mark. My Edward was fond of Mark Jensen. He didn’t know Daisy.”

  “She had no family,” Mr. Perini said, knowing full well about Jackson.

  “She had a brother,” Marcello corrected him. “Just the two of them. No mama or papa. Had to be hard for them, growing up with nobody.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Mr. Perini said. “Well, we’ll see you at the service. I have to get the last preparations done.” He gave the gurney a little push and the wheels began rolling.