Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.
~ Benjamin Franklin
“You want me to do what?”
Steven hollered through the phone, too loudly in her opinion.
“Help me steal a dead body,” she whispered, holding the phone close to her ear in case Edwin walked in. “Begley’s having him cremated, maybe to cover up a murder. I can’t go to the cops. Someone there might be in Begley’s pocket.”
“If you’re not taking it to the cops, what do you plan to do with it?”
“Give him a proper burial. Prepare him with the old customs my grandmother taught me.”
She took a deep breath. How could she possibly explain this? “Riordan is Irish, part of my heritage. I feel like I need to do this, send him off in the right way. No one deserves to be murdered and then cremated to hide the evidence. I’ve arranged for Riordan to have a burial at Bonaventure at dawn tomorrow.”
“Was this another house fire?” he asked.
“Hit-and-run. I know I’m asking a lot, but please? You said you wanted to be involved in my plans. I didn’t tell you about snooping in Begley’s office and you got mad at me. Well, now’s your chance to help me with something I intend to do.”
Steven let out a long sigh. “And you make fun of the South for cow tipping.”
“Please? I won’t blame you if say no, but having two people will help.”
“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but okay.”
“Thanks. Just pretend we’re Lily Tomlin in that movie 9 to 5, sneaking a body out to the trunk of the car.”
“She gets caught,” Steven reminded her. “The cops pull her over.”
“Okay, so it’s not the best example.” Brianna sat up straighter when she saw Edwin’s car pull into the parking lot. “I need to go, but meet me at the house at six o’clock. We’ll figure out details for tonight.”
“You got it.”
She hung up, but the smile wouldn’t leave her face. Steven would help her. This time, she wouldn’t fail. She might get arrested, but she wouldn’t fail in her effort.
Edwin entered with a leisurely spring in his step. “Any messages?”
“No, it’s been very quiet. How was your meeting?”
“Fine, but I didn’t expect it to run as long. I need you to start on the two sisters’ bodies. Go ahead and turn the phones to voicemail. It’ll be fine for a few hours.”
“No problem.” She gathered her purse and phone, made sure Riordan’s cremation slip was tucked away in her purse, and went to the preparation room.
Three hours later, she’d completed the makeup and hair for both Rosie and Ruthann Wilson. Brianna returned to reception and checked for Edwin. He was in his office and on another call. Good.
She unlocked her cell and dialed the nonemergency number for the police. She wouldn’t give her name but would just ask some general questions.
“Downtown Precinct,” the voice said.
“Yes, I had a quick question,” Brianna said. “When there’s been a hit-and-run accident and someone is killed, isn’t an autopsy performed to collect any evidence?”
“That’s standard procedure, ma’am.”
“Why would a body not be autopsied? Any reason?”
“Maybe the family objected, for any kind of religious or personal reason? Sometimes the relatives don’t want an autopsy performed.”
Through the phone, she heard a stern voice in the background. “Who are you talking to?”
“Just a second, Lieutenant Grainger...”
Grainger? Brianna remembered his name on the cremation slips. A dirty cop?
“Ma’am, can I get your name?” the officer asked.
“I have to go,” she said, disconnecting the call. Crap. She’d used her cell to call the precinct. Maybe they wouldn’t look at the caller ID. The cop she’d talked to seemed decent, but Lt. Grainger was likely one of Begley’s goons.
Did the man own everything and everyone? She couldn’t afford to bring Riordan’s body to the cops. If she approached the wrong officer, her chance to save someone could destroy him. And her. But she wouldn’t let him be cremated. Begley ran enough of Savannah. Time to do things her way. She’d move forward with her Bonaventure burial plans.
For her next call, she used the switchboard phone. Even if someone scrutinized the phone records, this number wouldn’t appear suspicious.
* * *
Brianna snapped on Plato’s leash and took him into the backyard. His tail wagged nonstop, a sure sign he liked the quality togetherness. She hadn’t spent as much time with him as she’d wanted to lately, but the Graysons had spoiled him rotten with dog treats and praising voices.
He sniffed and snorted, happy as ever. “Steven’s coming by tonight,” she said. Plato barked and spun around with glee. Maybe she could take him to the park this weekend and have Steven come along too.
When she led him back inside and opened the fridge to grab a beer, Virginia gave her the evil eye. “Did you say Steven was coming by?” Of course, she kept her form close to Brianna. The better to distract her from Steven.
“Yes. We need to discuss getting Riordan’s body.”
“Is Riordan that good-looking guy, the one who played the mandolin?” Amy asked. She kept her distance from her mother—smart girl. But the teenage ghost was lying on the counter on her stomach, resting her head in cupped palms.
Did the Graysons know Riordan?
“I don’t know. I had to hide his body quickly, and the file wasn’t detailed.”
Virginia drifted to the breakfast table.
“How’d he die?” James asked, leaning against the doorway.
“Hit-and-run.”
James choked on his own pipe smoke.
“Are you okay?” Brianna asked.
He cleared his throat. “Riordan lived up the street in one of the bigger corner properties.”
“So my suspicions are right. Begley had him killed.”
James and Virginia exchanged glances.
“Well, I can’t take Riordan’s body to the cops. I’m going to do the next best thing—give him a proper burial.”
“And you’re enlisting the help of my son to steal the body from the funeral home?” Virginia asked, her nose twitching at the idea.
“Yes. I want his help, and he wanted me to be honest with him.” She stood by the fridge. She really wanted to sit on a barstool and guzzle her beer, but with Amy occupying the counter...
“We should have a talk about proper decorum,” Virginia said. “After all, he is my son.”
Brianna couldn’t forget that fact, even if she tried.
James puffed on his pipe, sending smoke tendrils through the air for several seconds. “When do you plan to tell him about us?”
“Good question.”
* * *
Brianna straightened up the living room, set out two water glasses, and turned the thermostat down to fifty degrees. If she had to store Riordan’s body in her house overnight, it needed to be cold. At least it was chilly outside. Summer in Savannah was muggy and humid and would have been a terrible time to hide a dead body.
At 6:00 p.m. precisely, Steven knocked. He was punctual, she’d give him that.
She opened the door and let him in. “Hey there.”
“Hi yourself,” he said.
Plato trotted over and put his front paws on Steven’s knees. “Hey, boy. You miss me? Huh?”
Judging by Plato lying on his back with his tummy exposed for petting, she guessed yes. Such the ham for attention.
“Are you hanging beef in here?” Steven asked, hugging Plato’s furry coat.
“I’ve arranged for Riordan to be buried at Bonaventure at dawn tomorrow, but I need to keep his body in my house tonight.”
Steven stared at her for a second. “I never thought I’d hear a woman say that.”
“Believe me, I didn’t think I would either, but this is my chance—”
“I know,” he said. He took her hand in his. “Your chance to make a difference, like you promised your brother.”
“Don’t you dare lock lips with my son in front of me,” Virginia said. She stood right beside them.
On the other side, James put his hands in his pockets. “Give them some space. She has great taste, at least.”
Brianna had the odd feeling she was the guest star on Mystery Science Theater. Lots of commentary, only with her actions center stage. And Steven couldn’t see or hear a thing.
“Let’s go outside,” she suggested.
“Please stay,” James said. “We’ll behave.”
“No you won’t,” Brianna whispered.
“What?” Steven backed away, and his eyes darkened to a hunter green.
Uh oh. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I said I’d be there for you, no matter what. And apparently you think I won’t.”
Damn it! She needed to get all these ghosts out of her home.
“I’m sorry. Please, come outside with me. It’ll be quieter.”
He glanced around her empty house, at Plato resting comfortably on the dog bed—not making a sound. “It’s quiet in here.”
Not really. “Please? It would mean a great deal to me.”
She glared at Virginia’s half-open mouth ready to speak. Don’t say a word.
For once in her ghostly existence, Virginia did as Brianna wanted. Good thing.
“Fine, let’s go outside.” Steven walked ahead, tension in his shoulders, not the easygoing demeanor he’d had only moments earlier.
She followed. How the hell was she going to explain her way out of this one?
“Listen, Steven—”
“I want to know why you have a problem with me.”
“I don’t.” I have a problem with ghosts. She led him to a bench under the arch of a live oak.
“So why do you constantly back away, not wanting to trust or believe me?”
“It’s not you,” she said. “Honest.” She reached for his hand but pulled back.
He shook his head. “When you think about it, I have pretty damn good reason not to trust you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I return home, and you’re living in my parents’ house. The difference is, I’m willing to give you a chance. I like you, Brianna. But why the disbelief when I open up and tell you?”
She bit her lip. This was hurting him. She never meant to hurt him. He’d been the first person she felt comfortable around in years.
“I’m scared, but I believe you,” she said.
Steven gave a sarcastic laugh. “Hell, I’m even ready to steal a body. I could be out with Dennis right now trying to salvage my music career, but I’m here with you. Doesn’t that prove anything?”
“Yes.” She reached out and put her hands around his. “It does.”
His eyes flickered with suspicion. “I want you to trust me. Can you do that? Can you believe me when I say I want to help you, not only to bring justice to my family but for us to work together?”
“I believe you,” she whispered. “Honest.”
“Then why did you say you didn’t?”
Because your bickering parents were annoying me.
Wait. Could she go there? Explain a little without telling him everything? Worth a shot, especially since she wanted him to understand. She didn’t want to lose him.
“Sometimes, I hear things.”
“Things?”
“Voices. You said it yourself. Working in a funeral home can be...creepy. While I like my job, I can’t help but hear the dead bodies talking to me on occasion, saying things about how they want their hair styled or face done.”
She studied his face. Was he angry? Did he think she was crazy?
“Go on,” he said. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, and some of the seafoam green returned.
“Sometimes, there’s so much in my head that I can’t focus on conversations well. What do they call it in children? ADD?”
“You mean, you hear voices? Voices in your head? And that’s why you sometimes can’t hear what I am saying?”
“In a way. Look, can we change the subject? Usually when I mention this, friends go running in the opposite direction. Rest assured, this isn’t about you. It’s me.”
His chin twitched, and he stared at her. The worry and concern in his expression was apparent. The man thought she was the CEO of a macadamia ranch.
“One condition,” he said.
“Anything.”
“I’ll help you with the body, go with you to the burial tomorrow at dawn. But after that, if there’s more, you tell me the truth. Whatever secrets you’ve been hiding.”
The knot in her stomach tangled even more. The truth? Everything? She couldn’t get away with her secrecy forever, but she hadn’t wanted things to end this soon. Maybe if she could get Riordan buried without incident, and continue keeping her promise, she could move forward without a relationship. If Steven ended theirs.
“Agreed,” she said.
The warmth in his gaze returned. “Good. Now, what’s the plan for stealing a body? Is it anything like tipping a cow?”