Page 5 of Wicked Magik

I pouted and crossed my arms.

“Yeah, like I have a choice. I’m the only one that deals with bodies anyway.” I flipped my braid over my shoulder and stomped into Blackstone’s locked door and opened it.

“Time to get to work.”

I grabbed my bundle of flowers from the fridge that were delivered from the florist this morning and I cradled them to my chest.

The bouquet was a beautiful arrangement of chrysanthemums, black roses, and vibrant red poppies, each bloom carefully arranged and tied together with a rich, deep red ribbon that matched the intensity of the flowers. The florist, who had an uncanny knack for understanding my mother's tastes, had crafted this masterpiece. I had often hoped that their shared appreciation for beauty and their similar ages would bring them together, but sadly, that hope never blossomed into reality.

Mom never could fall in love with anyone else, she would tell me.

I wore one of my better looking outfits today. A short black skirt with black tights and a burgundy colored sweater. Fall wasapproaching and night had become chilly. I didn’t know how long I would stay out, but I knew I didn’t want to be back in time for the viewing.

Mr. Blackstone’s body was perfectly laid in its coffin, the bullet hole to his head and chest covered like they were never there.

The urge to Google this man was strong, but the less I knew, the better. Sometimes being ignorant was best when preparing a body but after I covered the hole in his head, applied make-up, done his hair and dressed him, curiosity got the best of me.

He was a criminal.

The information was all right here. He owned a lot of businesses: restaurants, construction, real estate, stripclubs, pawn shops. While it might look okay, the criminal charges against him also made it look really suspicious. Murder, rape, sex trafficing, money laundering all charges that were dropped.

There was the occasional charity event where he donated money to look good in the eyes of the public.

It was all a cover up though. I’ve read enough mafia romances to know that.

The strangest thing was, there was no mention of his death in the paper. Upon further investigation, I checked the computer for other intake papers to find out what grave sight he would be placed in after the viewing this evening.

There was none chosen.

Just leave it, Vesper. It won’t be your problem what they do with the body.

The wind whipped through the open field, tangling my hair with the bouquet in my arms. The sweet, earthy scent of the blossoms filled the air, mingling with the heavy weight of memories.

As I trudged along the worn path, my eyes were drawn to the shadowy outline of the forest ahead, a silent sanctuary near the modest graves. These were the resting places for those whocouldn't afford the grand plots reserved for the wealthy, their headstones simple and weathered by time.

Of course, my mother was buried there, but really, I think she would have chosen this place on her own anyway.

The sun was setting, and you could see the full moon rising above the trees. The sky was already fighting with itself and the darkness. It would overtake the light when I finally arrived at my mother’s grave.

The site was clean, I kept it that way, along with the others that were buried here.

She’d only been gone for a few years, but it felt like an eternity.

The only person that really understood me left me on this living plane as soon as I left her to go to school.

What I didn't understand was, she even told me to go.

I’ve wrestled with guilt for years, but this year I decided I would no more.

This year I decided I had to let it go. Because I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t live and do her job for this funeral home that was changing into something I couldn’t stand for.

I’d have to learn to keep her spirit alive within me.

“Hi, mom.” I unwrapped the flowers carefully as I felt a chill in the air. The wind picked up and my stringy hair wrapped around my neck. “I came to tell you I won’t be living on the estate anymore. I’m going to move on okay? Just like you wanted from the start.”

I sniffed and pulled the rain bucket that was behind her headstone. I filled the permanent vase that stood in front of the headstone and placed the flowers inside.

“Was it because I left and you didn’t want me to? Was it too long between visits? I called you every day.”