Predatory (Page 28)

Cassie shivered. Why had she agreed to sub for Felicity for even three minutes let alone three hours? She hated funeral parlors, hated the concept of putting dead bodies on display, hated dead bodies. For twenty-seven years she’d avoided going to a viewing—as a child with tantrums and as an adult with polite refusals.

Now, because her best friend had plied her with sobs and a giant guilt trip, she was here, by herself—not one other freaking person in the building except for dead guys—in the office of Eternal Rest. And it was getting dark outside.

She should have stood firm against Felicity’s begging. No one needed her here. She’d only answered the phone once in the last two hours. Fifteen minutes ago a woman had called to ask about her husband’s funeral. The woman had hung up with a huff of irritation when Cassie couldn’t help her.

Cassie’s heart did a giant ker-thump at the shrill sound of the doorbell. Get a grip. Zombies didn’t ring the bell.

The back entrance, the one with the very large doors that opened to allow very large things—definitely not thinking about what those were—to be carried in and out. She took gulping breaths and tried to calm her primal fears. But that was the problem with primal fears—they weren’t rational, and she couldn’t control them.

Cassie pushed to her feet and hurried toward—thank God—human interaction. As she yanked the doors open, and flipped on the outside light, she thought about shoving aside the man standing there and running like hell. Breathe, breathe. Fact: she could leave whenever she wanted. But then Mr. Garrity would fire Felicity. Fact: a live person stood not three feet from her. Her panic subsided.

“Can I help you?” She smiled as she took inventory. He looked around forty with thinning hair and an ordinary face. Cassie felt the rest of her fear slide away.

“Where’s Felicity?”

He didn’t sound too surprised that she was gone. Did her friend make a habit of skipping out on her job? “She had an emergency. She’ll be back in”—Cassie glanced at her watch—“an hour.” That’s all Cassie had to last. Sixty more minutes.

Felicity owed her big-time for this. No explanation, just a frantic call. Panic had ridden her voice as she’d begged Cassie to fill in for her. And no matter what, Mr. Garrity couldn’t find out that she was gone. She’d promised to leave the back door unlocked and then hung up.

Cassie had sat staring at the phone. What kind of emergency? It must’ve been serious from the sound of her friend’s voice. Her conscience pointed out that Felicity was allowing her to sleep in her spare room while Cassie searched for work. This small favor was the least she could do in return. Cassie wished her conscience would mind its own business. After about a half hour of mental hand-wringing, though, she’d temporarily beaten her fears into submission and headed out to spend a few hours in her personal nightmare.

“Does Mr. Garrity know you’re here?” He speared her with a hard stare.

Cassie had to protect Felicity’s job. She pasted on her most sincere expression. “Of course.” On the shades-of-gray scale, this lie was almost white. Her conscience subsided with a grumble.

The man nodded. “I do special jobs for Mr. Garrity. When a client wants a picture hand-etched onto a headstone, I’m the one who does it. Felicity probably told you that.”

“Uh, sure.” Felicity had told her nothing.

“I delivered one here this morning, but I have to make some minor changes.”

He held up a few pointy tools she hadn’t noticed at first. She frowned. Why would he deliver the headstone here and not to the cemetery? “So you do custom work?” That was her, the queen of obvious.

He smiled for the first time. “Every headstone is one of a kind. Why don’t you get the keys to the basement rooms and meet me down there?”

“Keys?” She’d seen the elevator doors in the hallway right behind her, but Cassie had tried not to think about what lay beneath her feet. Not too successfully if she was imagining zombie attacks.

He’d stopped smiling. “The keys are in Felicity’s desk.”

“Right. Desk.” Something didn’t feel right. Cassie glanced past him to where he’d parked his small, unmarked delivery truck. Another man was climbing from the passenger side of the truck. Now this guy was scary, and big, but he was human and alive. Both points in his favor. She dismissed her feelings. This whole place spooked her.

The first man nodded toward his friend. “Forgot to introduce myself. I’m Tony and the big guy is Len. Takes size to handle the stones.”

“Hi.” Cassie smiled at both men. No way was she giving her name. If the funeral director got cranky because Felicity had called in random secretarial help while he was gone, Cassie didn’t want to be in the line of fire. “About those keys. Why don’t you wait here for a moment? I’ll find them and bring them right back.” She did not want to take that elevator anywhere.

“Can’t waste time waiting for you. I have someplace to be in twenty minutes. Besides, I might need your help.” Tony held her gaze. “Oh, and make sure you press the bottom button.”

Help? For what? Musical accompaniment? He could hack away at his tombstone in time with her chattering teeth. But she couldn’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t make her look like the giant wuss she really was.

The two men walked past her, heading for the elevator.

“Oh, um, do you know where Mr. Garrity is?” In fact, where anybody was? There hadn’t been one person in the place when she’d arrived. She refused to think about the non-living that probably populated the basement.

Len answered her. “Mr. Garrity was also called away on an . . . emergency.” He seemed to think that was funny, because he smiled.

Cassie thought he had a sinister smile. Okay, maybe not. Her imagination was a terrible thing. Proof? Nonexistent zombies shambling down the hallway. To stop herself from babbling something that would get Felicity in trouble, she turned and walked back to the office.

On the way there, it occurred to her that the men wouldn’t save any time by making her bring the keys downstairs because they’d still have to wait for her to unlock the door. She shrugged the thought away.

Keys, keys . . . She found them in the top drawer of the desk. That part had been easy. Now for the tough part. She had to go back to the elevator, walk inside, and hit the down button.

By the time she reached the elevator, she’d almost made herself believe that this whole experience was a character-building event. She’d be stronger for having spent time at Eternal Rest. You are such a liar.