Simon smirked at me, grunting. I pocketed the diamond and followed Sev back to the hearse. We loaded up and pulled outta the driveway and it was a few minutes before either one of us spoke. I decided it would be me.
“Well? Pretty sure you won’t have to skip Simon’s place trick-or-treating. He likes me, and he gives some damn good—”
“Donot…finish that sentence.”
Geez…fine.
Eidelwood Cemetery is about as close to accurate as I think you could get if you’re into old horror movies where the monster lurks in a foggy graveyard under a full moon. That’s all I could think about while we parked on the gravel path that leads all the way through the several acre, wooded burial ground. Ipeeked over to see a huge concrete tub next to an already dug grave just past a row of headstones.
“What the hell is that?”
Seven shoved the gear shifter into park and turned the car off, trying to follow my line of vision. “The big box over at the side? That’s the vault. And we’re lucky they waited to inter that thing, otherwise I’d have to risk a bit more cleanup time with the crematorium before my parents are up for the day.”
“So…we’re burying the body in somebody else’s grave?”
“Yep,” she answered about as casually as I would if we were talking about murder.Calm down, pecker. She got out and I followed her to the back of the hearse to unload Simon’s little thief. “We’re gonna dig a little deeper, cover her up and then the vault will seal the deal before Mrs. Porter’s burial service tomorrow.”
“No way, this isMrs. Porter’sgrave?!”
“It is. I really hate it too. I feel like we’ve put her through enough in the past couple days, but…this is the easiest route.” She took one end of the body, and I took the other, careful about where we stepped as we maneuvered past graves. “Right here’s good.” I had the feet and was about to bend down to lay the body on the ground, but was almost shocked when the head thunked to the dirt and Seven stalked past me to go get shovels.
Damn…
I dropped my side and met her halfway. She hopped into that grave like it didn’t matter at all to her that we could get caught, or at the very least…haunted by some wraith out here. After the first few minutes of us digging in silence, I had the unpleasant notion that we were standing six feet below the ground, likely right in between two rotting people. I think this is the first time anything like this has ever bothered me. I needed some kind of distraction.
“So. A snack-sized Igor is more intimidating than my Pops?” Her shovel stabbed into the ground, and she chuckled to herself, stomping on the spade with her boot.
“Igor…”
“Is he Russian? Kinda sounded like it. I mean honestly, I think his tidy house was more creepy than the dude, himself.”
“The last time I cleaned for him, there were two bodies. One was missing skin in several places. The other one was missing a couple organs.” I stopped shoveling and looked over at her, wiping my brow. “You know I have to address the situation when there’s things missing.”
“He didn’t…”
She cracked a smile and started shoveling again. “He sure did. Only way I was gonna find any of it was to wait for it to digest and dig through his sh—”
“Uggghhhh,stop!”
She broke into a fit of giggles, and I cringed. Once we were finally deep enough, she had me hop up and roll the body down. It landed with a pretty sick thud and took us a good half hour to cover. Truthfully, I was really glad to be out and surprised to see it was only half past four when we finished up. Made me wonder how long it would have taken her if I hadn’t been here. I was chugging a bottle of water when I looked around, finding her with her back turned and taking her hair down while she cooled off, leaning over the back of a headstone. And the thought hit me…right in the dick.
“Hey, Viper? What time do your parents slither outta bed?” She didn’t even look at me when she answered.
“Around six. Why?”
Perfect…
I crept up behind her, I guess not stealthy enough. Probably because I’d gotten her good in the basement the other day. She’s starting to expect all aspects of my shit. She turnedaround, spotting the look I knew had to be in my eyes and threw a palm out, landing dead-center on my chest.
“Don’t even. It’s not happening.”
“You serious? But your smutty book—”
“Is exactly that. Abook. Don’t get me wrong, it’s entertaining and delicious, Malek…but therearen’tjust random bodies out here. We’re standing on a few dozen people I’ve worked on, comforted their families, and tucked them snugly into caskets. The night you called me to your house, you were all about a war on disrespect. I’d never actually do that to them. You can understand that, right?”
Another valid argument. Damn it all.
“I do. You’re right. Sorry.”
