Page 81
Story: Guilty as Sin
But for the first time in a long while, she let herself entertain what-ifs. As long as the cursed “gift” didn’t reappear, she wouldn’t have to keep her guard raised, afraid at any moment she’d be battered by a stranger’s reprehensible memories. Then, she could afford to wedge that tight emotional door open a bit. Perhaps enough to satisfy Hayes. Long enough to fan life into the fledgling tendrils of hope he’d sowed in her.
The aspiration was a fantasy, as tantalizingly out of reach as a desert mirage. Yet, still, it persisted.
Maybe.
35
The crematorium was long and low, a squared-off U shape painted a restful pale green with brown shutters and a matching roof. The long drive split to arc in front of the facility, leading to parking spaces. Hayes continued straight instead, beyond a large arched portico, currently empty, and then by the oversized garage, which made up the right stem of the structure. He pulled into a small back lot that would hold about a dozen vehicles. A large landscaped patio took up the space between the rear parking and the other vertical wing of the building, which offered a scenic view of the bordering woods. Swinging into a space near the back entrance, he waited until Officer Starr pulled in next to him before putting the vehicle in park.
“Is that Kervin’s car?” he asked Reese, nodding toward the old white Toyota hugging the far front corner.
She leaned forward to look past him. “Yes. Doesn’t look like it’s been washed since I saw him last.”
He sent her a careful glance, but if the mention of the day McNulty had assaulted her brought back bad memories, it didn’t show in her expression. “Sure you want to do this now?”
“Yes. He said he’d leave the back entry open.”
He stifled a sigh and nodded. “Let’s talk to Starr first.”
The officer buzzed down the driver’s window as they approached the cruiser. “I still think I should accompany you inside.”
For the second time, Reese explained patiently, “We’re meeting an informant. I can guarantee he isn’t going to talk in your presence.”
“I know you said that, but…” His attention slid to Hayes.
“Let us go in. If we’re not back in twenty minutes, come in after us.”
The officer shook his head. “I’ll text you every ten. You respond promptly, or I call for backup.”
He nodded, aware of the impatience radiating off Reese. “That works. Appreciate it.”
Starr turned off the ignition and settled in more comfortably behind the wheel. “Nice night. I’ve had worse assignments. Remember, ten minutes. Then respond to the text immediately.”
“Got it.” He and Reese walked up to the structure. It was full dark now. Security lights dotted the rear of the building, one of them next to the back entrance nearest Kervin’s car. Reese approached the door, reaching for the knob.
“Wait.” He drew his weapon and went in ahead of her, searching the space. Then Hayes lowered the gun and held the door open for her.
“You’re probably going to scare the shit out of Kervin with that.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
The room they entered was dark and appeared to be a private office. A slant of illumination glowed beyond the opposite doorway. “Text him. Tell him we’re here.” Hayes led her to the lit hallway, his head cocked for any sound that may give them a clue where Kervin was.
She stopped and sent a quick message before following him, waiting outside each of the darkened rooms while he snapped on the lights and cleared them before flipping off the switch when he finished. “He’s got to be around.” Her voice was muted as if there were anyone near enough to overhear. “He wouldn’t miss the chance at another payday.”
Hayes squelched the rude response he was considering. One of the rooms was large enough for a public event, with accordion doors that could split the space into two sections. Another was smaller, with a table full of pictures and flowers arranged up front and a couple of dozen folding chairs. “What’s he do here again?”
“Janitorial work.” Her cell alerted with an incoming text, sounding unnaturally loud in the eerie stillness. “He’s in the arrangement room. Wherever that is.”
The next area held gravestone markers, an extensive collection of urns, row after row of pictures of caskets, and overstuffed furniture with a couple of tables with chairs and shelves of large books. Hayes assumed they showed pictures of flowers and other funeral items. Tension settled in his shoulders.
He shook off the worry and continued leading them down the hall. “Why are there coffins when none of the bodies will be buried?”
“To transport them. They’ll all be fully combustible, as they’ll go in the furnace with the deceased. They won’t tell you, but a cardboard box would do the trick. Grieving families often find that idea distasteful. For aquamation they use a bio-bag or shroud.”
He crossed in front of her to open a darkened room on the opposite side. Turning on the light, he saw four gurneys in the center and the far wall full of short metal doors. He’d visitedenough morgues to know they’d be refrigerated units to hold bodies until the mortician could prepare them.
Hayes shut off the light, trying to block Reese’s view into the room. She’d likely been the one to make all of the arrangements for her aunt just months ago. He wondered if this visit was summoning any unwelcome memories. If it was, she gave no sign of it.
The aspiration was a fantasy, as tantalizingly out of reach as a desert mirage. Yet, still, it persisted.
Maybe.
35
The crematorium was long and low, a squared-off U shape painted a restful pale green with brown shutters and a matching roof. The long drive split to arc in front of the facility, leading to parking spaces. Hayes continued straight instead, beyond a large arched portico, currently empty, and then by the oversized garage, which made up the right stem of the structure. He pulled into a small back lot that would hold about a dozen vehicles. A large landscaped patio took up the space between the rear parking and the other vertical wing of the building, which offered a scenic view of the bordering woods. Swinging into a space near the back entrance, he waited until Officer Starr pulled in next to him before putting the vehicle in park.
“Is that Kervin’s car?” he asked Reese, nodding toward the old white Toyota hugging the far front corner.
She leaned forward to look past him. “Yes. Doesn’t look like it’s been washed since I saw him last.”
He sent her a careful glance, but if the mention of the day McNulty had assaulted her brought back bad memories, it didn’t show in her expression. “Sure you want to do this now?”
“Yes. He said he’d leave the back entry open.”
He stifled a sigh and nodded. “Let’s talk to Starr first.”
The officer buzzed down the driver’s window as they approached the cruiser. “I still think I should accompany you inside.”
For the second time, Reese explained patiently, “We’re meeting an informant. I can guarantee he isn’t going to talk in your presence.”
“I know you said that, but…” His attention slid to Hayes.
“Let us go in. If we’re not back in twenty minutes, come in after us.”
The officer shook his head. “I’ll text you every ten. You respond promptly, or I call for backup.”
He nodded, aware of the impatience radiating off Reese. “That works. Appreciate it.”
Starr turned off the ignition and settled in more comfortably behind the wheel. “Nice night. I’ve had worse assignments. Remember, ten minutes. Then respond to the text immediately.”
“Got it.” He and Reese walked up to the structure. It was full dark now. Security lights dotted the rear of the building, one of them next to the back entrance nearest Kervin’s car. Reese approached the door, reaching for the knob.
“Wait.” He drew his weapon and went in ahead of her, searching the space. Then Hayes lowered the gun and held the door open for her.
“You’re probably going to scare the shit out of Kervin with that.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
The room they entered was dark and appeared to be a private office. A slant of illumination glowed beyond the opposite doorway. “Text him. Tell him we’re here.” Hayes led her to the lit hallway, his head cocked for any sound that may give them a clue where Kervin was.
She stopped and sent a quick message before following him, waiting outside each of the darkened rooms while he snapped on the lights and cleared them before flipping off the switch when he finished. “He’s got to be around.” Her voice was muted as if there were anyone near enough to overhear. “He wouldn’t miss the chance at another payday.”
Hayes squelched the rude response he was considering. One of the rooms was large enough for a public event, with accordion doors that could split the space into two sections. Another was smaller, with a table full of pictures and flowers arranged up front and a couple of dozen folding chairs. “What’s he do here again?”
“Janitorial work.” Her cell alerted with an incoming text, sounding unnaturally loud in the eerie stillness. “He’s in the arrangement room. Wherever that is.”
The next area held gravestone markers, an extensive collection of urns, row after row of pictures of caskets, and overstuffed furniture with a couple of tables with chairs and shelves of large books. Hayes assumed they showed pictures of flowers and other funeral items. Tension settled in his shoulders.
He shook off the worry and continued leading them down the hall. “Why are there coffins when none of the bodies will be buried?”
“To transport them. They’ll all be fully combustible, as they’ll go in the furnace with the deceased. They won’t tell you, but a cardboard box would do the trick. Grieving families often find that idea distasteful. For aquamation they use a bio-bag or shroud.”
He crossed in front of her to open a darkened room on the opposite side. Turning on the light, he saw four gurneys in the center and the far wall full of short metal doors. He’d visitedenough morgues to know they’d be refrigerated units to hold bodies until the mortician could prepare them.
Hayes shut off the light, trying to block Reese’s view into the room. She’d likely been the one to make all of the arrangements for her aunt just months ago. He wondered if this visit was summoning any unwelcome memories. If it was, she gave no sign of it.
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