Courting Death - Carol Stephenson [23]
“Great, I’ll call you later and we can firm up a day and time.” We said goodbye as I reached my destination.
Turning into the funeral home’s drive, I swung around to the rear lot. Might as well check out the entrance where bodies were delivered. I reminded myself to ask if they did their own pickup or hired an independent contractor to handle transport. It was amazing what a big business death was.
The tan stucco building winged out in a V shape with a large portico framing the back of the right prong containing the garage. A small white truck plastered with ice cream logos stood beneath it. What the hell? I frowned as I pulled into a spot facing the building. I hadn’t seen any vending machines the night of the funeral. Maybe that was the explanation for Depp’s “ick” factor. He packed bodies in ice cream instead of ice.
I hitched my shoulders to shrug off the unpleasant image and stepped out of the Beemer, pocketing my keys.
Hearing the hum of a motor, I crossed under the portico to the truck. No one was in the driver’s seat and the back doors were closed. I wandered around to the right side with the cutaway for doling out ice cream, but the accordion shutter was rolled down. I curled my fingers under the edge and gave an experimental tug to see if it would open. No deal.
I approached a door with a sign stating Deliveries Only tucked into the side of the garage. I tried the handle and it opened. Stepping inside, I saw two gleaming black limousines parked side by side. I went through another door and found myself in a dimly lit, wide hallway. Quietly, I closed the door behind me.
Although lush, deep-piled carpet covered the floor in the reception, viewing rooms and chapel, here grey industrial-strength linoleum covered the floor. The better to roll the bodies along. The first room to my right had a wide steel door with a plaque marking it Prep Room, Staff Only.
My stomach twisted in protest as I pushed down on the latch handle and entered the darkened room. Even as I searched for a switch, fluorescent lights flickered on overhead. I released on a sigh the breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding. No bodies occupied the two gurneys.
Metal cabinets lined the one wall. The first one contained bottles, jars and tubes of makeup and hairspray along with sponges and brushes. When I tugged on the handle of a drawer next to the gurneys, it slid out smoothly, revealing the surgical tools lined up inside. My mouth tasted sour as I fought a wave of nausea. I shoved the drawer shut. No question the funeral home had the necessary equipment for embalming—or something worse.
I turned and quickly left the chamber of horrors. I followed the hall until I reached another door. Pushing down on the handle, I found it opened into a carpeted hallway. If I recalled the layout correctly, this one formed the top of a T. The business offices were straight ahead and the longer, intersecting hall led to the viewing room, chapel and front entrance. Although a patch of light spilled from the office the place was as quiet as a tomb.
Bad pun, Nicole. I imagined working here could give anyone the willies. Shaking my head, I walked down to the other end. “Mr. Depp?” I called out. No one responded.
I checked the first room, which was fitted with a gleaming wood conference table, several chairs and three ornate coffins, two with the lids open. Several stands held large catalogs. The place where one selected how to be buried in style and dropped a ton of money for the privilege. Suppressing a shudder, I moved on. A second room contained several desks and computers but no people.
Frowning, I checked my watch. A little after nine. The cadaverous young man who helped Depp direct people at the funeral could have been a part-timer.
Last was the corner office, clearly the owner’s. My lips curled at the sight of the cemetery posters covering the walls and a model-sized coffin on a credenza. I retraced my steps to the hall leading to the front and then paused. Something niggled at the edge of my mind about the showroom. I returned to its door and studied