“It’s not important. If Phil wanted you to know he’d have told you.”
Kyra tried not to roll her eyes. “We have to let the ovens cool down for a good half hour.”
“Then what?”
“Then I rake the remains—pull the ashes out of the chamber, and load them into the processor.”
“What does the processor do?”
“Your larger bones in your arms and legs don’t burn to ash at twenty-five hundred degrees for two and a half hours. They’d take five or six hours. We process those bones—grind them down to an ash-like substance. That’s what the families receive in their urns.”
Kyra watched for a reaction. Interesting. Unlike most people he showed no emotion at all.
“After you process everything, what do you do?”
“I place the remains in a plastic bag which goes into a plastic urn. This is what I return to the funeral director or family unless the funeral director supplies an urn. If he does I then place the remains in the one he brought.”
“Once you can get into the oven, we’re out of here.”
“No, as I said, I have to process the remains, and pack them in the urn, then you’re done. Got a date?” she joked. Stone face.
“Why can’t you open the oven now?”
“It’s called a chamber. There’s a safety on it. It remains locked until it’s safe to open. We don’t want anyone burned.”
“So, you can’t open it?”
“Not unless you want to get burned to a crisp. It needs to cool down.” Kyra stared at him. She’d be damned if she’d endanger herself.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee now.” He nodded to her.
Boy, if he’s waiting on me to serve him, he’ll be disappointed. “I’ll show you where it is.”
To the right of the front door stood the small kitchen for the staff. Kyra walked in with Phil’s man. The smell of burned coffee filled the air. She dumped it into the sink and started a fresh pot. Together they stood in compatible silence as they waited for it to finish brewing. The funeral director had chosen to stay in his car for the duration of the burn.
Kyra’s head snapped up when he said, “How did you get into this line of work?”
“Natural progression, a promotion of sorts. I was the trained backup and when my boss died on the job it became mine.”
“Interesting.”
Still not a muscle moved in the man’s face. It reminded her of chiseled marble. “How did you come to work for Phil?”
He looked at her, turned, poured two cups of coffee, handed her one, and took the other. Okay, he wasn’t going to answer. She decided to wait out the burn in the processing room. His hand latched onto her arm. Her stomach pitched upward. Fear tightened her gut, but she challenged him, looking down at his fingers before raising her eyes to look into his. Dead, onyx pools of liquid stared back at her. She almost jumped back. He’d snap my neck if Phil ordered it. She wondered if he’d killed the man she cremated today. Best not go there, Kyra.
“It’s for your protection that you don’t know—don’t ask questions.” He released her arm.
“Let’s check on our guy.” She exhaled.
When they reached the back room, her cell phone started ringing. She checked her watch. Not much time to change into a different outfit for her date. Damn, I wanted to sex up my outfit. She looked at the number. Was fate making the decision for her? Did Jake want to cancel? It served her right if he did after what she’d done.
“Jake?”
Her eyes followed Phil’s man around the room as he poked his head into each room, lifting papers off counters. Nosy bastard.
“Are we still on for tonight?” She heard apprehension in her own voice.
“Yes, but I’m running late. I wanted to give you a heads-up. It’s not a problem, is it?”
Problem? This is awesome. The gods must be working in my favor. “No problem. What time?” Kyra’s energy level took a boost. Jake was what she needed. “Eight?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still going to pick me up?”
“Yes, I’ll see you later.” She hung up.
“Who was that?” the guard asked.
“My date for tonight.” She offered no more.
After waiting the allotted time, Kyra pressed the button on the side of the chamber. The door glided open. Intense heat filled the room. The remains were a hot, glowing red. Grabbing her tools, she started to empty the chamber, pulling the rake back she hit the guard in the stomach with the handle. He groaned, but she wasn’t going to apologize. Aware he hovered behind her, she wasn’t going to let him interfere in her job.
“If you wish to watch, it’d be better if you stood off to the side. It takes about fifteen minutes to get all the remains out of the chamber.”
“What’s the metal thing there?”
“If the deceased wore any rings or other gold jewelry, it will be the base metal the jeweler used to form the jewelry design before he dipped it in the gold. The metal will warp during the burn. The dental gold in the deceased’s mouth will have melted. If the person had a plate in his head or leg there’ll be a piece of unrecognizable metal at the end of the process. It will be removed and separated from the bone ashes. Sometimes, I even find remnants of the nails from the coffin.”
“You mean my rings aren’t pure gold?”
“No. Gold is soft. The higher the gold content, the softer the jewelry. A wedding band starts with a piece of metal formed into a circle. Next, the jeweler builds and bonds the gold around it. The metal doesn’t melt but it breaks down—though gold melts at those temperatures. Before we process or grind the remains, we have to remove the metal.”
“What do you do with it?”
“We discard it.”
“You mean you throw it away?”
Kyra turned her back to him as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Yes.”
“I want the metal.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t question him. Who wore the ring was none of her business. The less she knew the better off she’d be—she wanted to live. After removing everything from the chamber, Kyra carried the remains to the processing room and scanned them for metal. After she removed the items, she put them in a separate box for the guard. She pulverized the remains in the grinder and dumped them in a plastic bag before loading them into the plastic cremation urn. Handing him the ashes, she escorted him to the hearse. He opened the back, took out a box and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“An urn.”
“Okay, come back here.” Why the freak did he wait until after I was done, for Pete’s sake? I want to get the hell out of here.
He followed her back into the processing room. She transferred the ashes from the temporary urn to the ornate one, handing it back to him when the transfer was complete. He reached into his pocket and handed her a thick envelope. She didn’t look inside. His smile surprised her—it brightened his whole face, revealing handsome features she had missed before. He should smile more often, he’d be less scary. She closed the garage after they pulled out, grabbed her keys and purse, set the alarm and locked up for the night.
Kyra rushed across town. She’d burned a body for the mob. For God’s sake, the freakin mob. Though wrong, she’d now be able to afford a lawyer to fight Tom. But still, she’d burned her first body for the mob.
When she got home, she locked the door and pulled down the shades. Then she counted the money. Phil was true to his word. In the envelope was one hundred thousand dollars. If she didn’t have a date she’d be on her way to the casino. Tonight after the date, she’d head there and try her luck. Now that she didn’t need the money, she’d probably win and go back to how it had been in the beginning. A lawyer would make all the difference in the world for her custody battle. Confused, elated, she now had money,
but frightened with what happened next. She’d have to push today’s events from her mind before she went crazy.
She walked into her bedroom. This was a cold room, not like the one she’d shared with Tommy. She hadn’t had time or money to decorate. A queen-size bed, with a white comforter thrown over it, and a dresser were all she brought for the room. She wasn’t planning on staying there once she got custody back and the house. The windows had shades and sheers covering them. She moved her bed, pried up a floorboard with a flat-head screwdriver as she hammered the end of it for leverage. When it popped off, she put ninety-five thousand dollars between the joists before she banged the board back in place. She slid the bed to its original position. Tomorrow she’d have to buy a safe. She wasn’t going to put this money in her bank account or safe deposit box.
She shoved three thousand dollars into her purse. The other two thousand went into her suitcase in the closet. Kyra started to get ready for her date. Later, she’d have to figure out why her conscience wasn’t bothering her much. Who knew if any of her regular funeral directors had ever put an extra body in their coffins? Kyra never checked the contents, though she supposed the weight of the box was a dead giveaway. As long as who she burned was dead, her job was done. She’d have to research the law to determine if the disposal of a dead body fell in the category of a misdemeanor or a felony in the legal code. She had to be aware of the penalty if she got caught. Something she probably should’ve done before she agreed to it in the first place.
Chapter 9
Jake knocked harder than he’d intended. He hated when he ran late but he’d been searching for Guy Pollo for over a month for the overdose death of a teenager and today they had nabbed him. Louie had some family issues he needed to attend to. Jake had to stay to process the drug dealer.
Kyra opened the door as he knocked. Stunning! She wore a form-fitting shirt in black with white stripes. It draped her bosom and gave him an enticing view of her cleavage. The black pencil skirt with the slit up her thigh sent his imagination into overdrive. Sexy, yet classic. He liked that she finished off her outfit with a simple string of pearls instead of clunky jewelry. And all that curly red hair she left loose fell over her shoulders.
“I’m sorry about the delay.”
“Not a problem. I’m a little overdressed. Have a seat while I go change.” She closed the door.
“Don’t change, you look great.” He liked legs and the slit gave him a nice view of a great pair.
“Thanks. Where are we going?”
“Maxine’s in Hartford. Have you ever been there?”
“Yes, it’s one of my favorites.”
Jake took the jacket Kyra handed him and held it up for her to put on. Cool for late spring, though tonight promised warmth. After Kyra grabbed her purse from the chair, Jake opened the door and waited while she set her alarm and locked up. For the date he’d switched out the department issue for his silver convertible. After he helped her into the car he pulled into traffic.
“Rough day?”
“Yes and no.” He laughed.
“I understand that.”
“We caught this guy today I’ve been looking for all month. He’s the reason I ran late.”
“As I said, it wasn’t a problem.”
“How was your day?”
“Busy, and more of the usual,” she said as she shrugged.
“Bored?”
“I’m in a rut, I guess.”
“Summer’s almost here; that should brighten things up.”
“It should.” Kyra seemed…uncomfortable?
Good first-date conversation, Jake. Change the subject. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I need to be honest, Jake.”
“Okay.” He glanced at her sideward. Here goes.
“This is my first first date in nine years and I’m petrified.”
“Is that all? Didn’t we go for drinks the other night? So, in reality this is our second date.” He flipped her a quick smile before turning back to face the road.
“That helps.”
* * * *
Once he’d put her at ease, Jake enjoyed Kyra’s company. She turned out to be someone who listened. He spoke about his job, the recent promotion, but steered away from anything personal. Kyra tried to dig deeper but Jake was a master of avoidance. Before he knew it, they were at the end of the evening, sitting in front of her condo. The awkward moment has arrived. He didn’t want to put any pressure on her. He relaxed back into his seat and let Kyra control what happened next. It’d make his life easier. While he waited her out he studied her face. Strong bones, wide almond-shaped eyes, and a bowed mouth had him hoping she’d invite him in for coffee.
“Earth to Kyra.” Jake laughed as he nudged her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, trapped in my head.”
“I get it.” He leaned over, kissed her, brushing his lips over hers before he got out of the car. He walked around to her side, extended a hand, and helped her out.
“Thanks for a great evening,” she said.
“I enjoyed it. How about we do it again next week?”
“Yes, that sounds nice.”
At the door, he held out his hand for her keys. She dropped them into it. He unlocked her door, handed her back her keys but didn’t open it.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee or a drink?” Her voice cracked, endearing her to him.
“No, it’s best I go home. Thanks for a wonderful evening. I’ll call you at the beginning of the week to set up a time for dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
He leaned in and kissed her once more, gently. But it didn’t take long for him to deepen the kiss when she offered encouragement. The urgency in it forced him to put space between them. He didn’t take advantage of vulnerable women.
He ran his thumb over her cheek, and smiled down at her. “Now you can relax,” he joked.
“I was relaxed,” she shot back.
He laughed. “Liar.”
“You’re right. Good night.”
“Bye. Lock your door.”
“The protector?” Kyra joked.
“I love a smart-mouth.”
“Well, you came to the right place.”
“Not yet,” Jake said.
“Bye.”
He waited for her to close the door. When he heard the lock click into place, he walked down the stairs. Kyra was an intelligent woman who didn’t flaunt her looks. Every time the subject turned to relationships, she somehow turned it back on him. Was he losing his touch? She never discussed her gambling problem. His cop senses zoned into how masterfully she dodged the subject whenever they came close to it. At the same time her eyes shouted “help.” Lord, I should be running— not wondering how I can help her. He doubted she’d ask him for assistance even if she need it. The more they talked, the more he recognized she was hiding something. He’d need all his investigative skills to unravel her secrets.
Chapter 10
Kyra fell into a deep sleep the minute she hit the sack. It only lasted for a few hours before she awoke around four a.m. She shot to a ramrod position, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It slammed into her head—she’d burned a body for the mob.
And Jake. What was she doing with him? She’d need a miracle to juggle the guilt, the cop, and the mob boss. By throwing herself in with Phil, she’d made matters worse. Now instead of being a gambler, a woman who lost her child, she was a criminal. She fell back against her pillow. How in the hell would she be able to manage it all? Why did everything come with a price?
The next morning around ten she woke for the second time, stretched, then climbed out of bed. She called Trevor before even making coffee. This morning she needed his light.
“Hi Tommy, is Trevor there?”
“Trevor waited for your call last night. What’s with yo
u lately? It’s the third time you missed calling him. Is the damn casino more important?”
“You better keep your mouth shut. If I hear you told this to Trevor, you’ll pay.”
“Why? It’s the truth.”
“It’s not.” It took everything she had in her to find her calm before she answered him. “I love Trevor. He’s everything to me and don’t you fill his head with lies. I didn’t go to the casino last night. I worked late. A last-minute rush cremation which made me late for my date,” she said, to anger him.
“A date?” He didn’t respond to anything else. A smile tugged at her lips. Gotcha.
“Yes, a date. I had a great time.” Rubbing it in, you bet. Childish, yes. It’s about time I had a weapon to use against him.
“Oh…I still love you, Kyra. We’d still be together if it weren’t for your gambling.”
What a load of crap. He’s still a dick. “That ship has sailed. We both need to move on. What we have is Trevor. There, we did our best work.” On the verge of tears, she hoped her voice didn’t show it. She had come to hate him.
“Please put Trevor on.”
“Before I do, can you come to dinner sometime this week?”
“Why?”
“Why? Because it’d be good for Trev…I miss you.”
“What game are you playing?” Boy, the bullshit’s getting deep.
“Playing? I don’t understand. I miss you. I understand we won’t be together again, but I’d like to be friends. It’d be good for Trev to have both of us at dinner.”
He was up to something, but she didn’t know what. He’d been angry at her when he found out about the 401k fund. The fight—a real knock-down, drag-out—was the most vicious they’d ever had. They’d both said things they couldn’t take back. He told her there was no place in his life for her—to him, she was dead.
“Please put him on.”
“I’ll call you Monday.” She heard him yell to Trevor. Then yell again, before she heard Trevor respond.
“Hi, Mommy.” He sounded excited.
Her heart wrenched at his voice. Trevor represented everything good in her life. Guilt tugged at her heart strings. Praying he’d never find out how she’d crossed the line. How she’d broken the law. How she’d continue to break the law, whenever Phil told her to, for the rest of her life.
All the Hidden Sins Page 8