Eggs Benedict Arnold (18 page)

“
Naw,
”
said Toni,
“
this is Junior
’
s car. He wanted mine
for his deliveries, so he traded with me. I guess my Honda has newer tires or something.
”

“
But this one
’
s got a bigger engine,
”
said Suzanne, fas
tening her seat belt, as Toni rumbled away from the curb.

“
It
does
have that touch of muscle car,
”
said Toni, sound
ing pleased.

“
And a CB radio.
”
Suzanne pointed at a box with dials and a backlit digital tuner display that had been haphaz
ardly bolted to the dashboard.

“
Police scanner,
”
corrected Toni.

Suzanne frowned.
“
Seriously?
”

“
Monitors police, fire, and EMS channels,
”
said Toni.

“
You
’
re telling me that Junior monitors
police
chan
nels?
”
said Suzanne. This seemed like a red flag to her.
Another indication that Junior could be up to no good.

Toni spun into a left turn so fast, Suzanne had to clutch
the dashboard to steady herself.

“
You say stuff like that,
”
said Toni,
“
you make me
nervous.
”

“
You know,
”
said Suzanne,
“
I think you might have
good reason to be nervous.
”

Chapter twelve

To see Ozzie laid out in his own funeral home was bizarre
beyond belief. For years he
’
d been the sober meeter and greeter for most of Kindred
’
s deaths and burial services.
Now, here he was, lying in a gunmetal gray casket, wearing
his black three-piece funeral director
’
s suit.

Or at least Suzanne hoped it was his funeral director
’
s
suit and not one of those awful, cheesy suits that were slit
up the back.

“
Creepy, isn
’
t it?
”
murmured Toni, standing at Suzanne
’
s elbow and peering at Ozzie.

“
It
’
s like watching a bad movie,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Only
this is really happening.
”
She took a step backward, took in
the arrangements of peace lilies, listened as Amy Grant
’
s
“
Say Once More
”
played discreetly from the hidden sound system in this, the larger of the two visitation parlors. And wondered who had made all these decisions? Who had se
lected the casket, the flowers, the music? Ozzie
’
s brother, she supposed. Although glancing around at the crowd, which was already quite sizeable, Suzanne didn
’
t see anyone
that
particularly resembled an Ozzie-type relative.

“
This is totally freaking me out,
”
whispered Toni.
“
Maybe we should go out into the lobby and sign the guest
book or something. Besides, it
’
s freezing in here.
”

Shivering, Suzanne nodded.
“
Good idea. Sign the
guest
book, take a good hard look at the guests. Because... well,
you never know.
”
They grabbed each other and scurried out
into the entry hall.

“
Sad, isn
’
t it?
”
said a tall, white-haired man as Suzanne finished writing her name.
“
Ozzie was such a wonderful man.
”

Suzanne set the pen down and favored the white-haired
man with a sympathetic smile. Then did a sort of double take.
“
Oh,
”
she said,
“
you
’
re...
”
She couldn
’
t quite dredge up his name.

‘
Ted Foxworthy,
”
said the man.
“
I used to own the funeral home over in Jessup. Foxworthy and Sons.
”

“
Used to?
”
Suzanne asked.
“
Did you retire? Are your
sons running the place now?
”
She
’
d been there a year or so
ago for a visitation and funeral.

Foxworthy glanced at his feet for a moment, then said,
“
No, nothing like that.
”

“
Business couldn
’
t have been
that
bad,
”
offered Toni.

Foxworthy gave a rueful smile.
“
The whole funeral in
dustry has changed,
”
he told them.

“
In a bad way?
”
asked Suzanne. She figured now that
the baby boomers were aging, business would be booming,
so to speak.

“
Changed in a big way,
”
said Foxworthy.
“
Now the big
conglomerates are taking over and running things.
”

“
Isn
’
t that always the case?
”
sighed Toni.

“
So what exactly happened?
”
asked Suzanne, curious now.

“
I did what most independents are doing today,
”
said Foxworthy.
“
I sold out.
”

‘
To what company?
”
asked Suzanne.

“
Roth Funeral Home Consortium,
”
Foxworthy told her.

“
The funeral home over in Cornucopia has been sold to
them, too.
”
He sighed.
“
I guess it
’
s the way of the future.
”

Something didn
’
t sound right to Suzanne.
“
Sounds like you didn
’
t want to sell,
”
she said to him.

Foxworthy kept a stoic look on his face.

“
Did this Roth Consortium pressure you?
”
asked Suzanne.

Now Foxworthy scrunched up his face.
“
Not direct pres
sure. In fact, they were always extremely polite and busi
nesslike with their propositions. But after we declined their offer a few times, our suppliers started demanding payment
up front and a lot of the medical sales reps seemed less anxious to call on us.
”

“
So there
was
pressure,
”
said Suzanne.

“
I suppose you could call it that,
”
said Foxworthy, picking up a black pen and turning to sign the guest book.
“
Just
nothing ... illegal.
”

“
But you made money,
”
said Toni, trying to find some
solace in the situation.

“
Oh yes,
”
said Foxworthy, but he didn
’
t look happy.

As Suzanne stepped aside, she noticed a small camera
hung overhead. It seemed to be focused directly on the front
door. Probably installed up there so whoever was working in back could keep a watchful eye on whoever came in. Or
at least that was the probable intent. Suzanne wondered if
Doogie had checked out this camera and vowed to mention
it to him.

“
Oh no,
”
Toni hissed.
“
Missy
’
s here.
”

Suzanne turned toward the front door and saw that Missy, accompanied by Earl Stensrud, had just entered the funeral home. Dressed in a somber black suit, Missy looked tired, drawn, and sad. Earl just looked bored.

When Missy saw Suzanne and Toni huddled together,
she sped over to greet them.
“
Thanks for coming,
”
she said
in a breathless voice, administering hugs and air kisses to each of them.

“
How are you doing, honey?
”
asked Toni.

“
Okay,
”
said Missy, trying to keep a game face.

“
A tremendously big turnout,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Probably tomorrow, for the funeral,
”
said Missy,
“
the
place will be even more jam-packed.
”

Interesting, thought Suzanne. Hadn
’
t Doogie mentioned
that Ozzie didn
’
t seem to have a lot of friends? So this big turnout signified ... what? Professional interest? Or just a
macabre fascination with Ozzie
’
s death? Probably so, since
word had traveled like wildfire, just as Doogie had predicted,
that
Ozzie had, indeed, been murdered.

Missy put a hand on Suzanne
’
s forearm.
“
I have a favor
to ask of you,
”
she said.

“
Of course,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Anything.
”

“
I was wondering,
”
said Missy,
“
if you
’
d be one of the models in our informal fashion show this Friday?
”

“
Oh no, I couldn
’
t,
”
said Suzanne.

“
You just said you
’
d do anything,
”
Toni pointed out, giving Suzanne a sharp poke in the ribs.

“
Anything... um... reasonable,
”
said Suzanne, feeling a little embarrassed.

“
You
’
d be a wonderful model,
”
said Missy.
“
You
’
re ... what? About a size ten?
”

Suzanne nodded.
“
About.
”
On a good day. If I
’
ve sworn
off
carbs
for two entire months.

“
And still great-looking for your age,
”
said Missy.

“
Thank you,
”
said Suzanne.
“
I
th
i
nk.
”

“
You should do it!
”
urged Toni.
“
You
’
d be great!
”