All in the Family (11 page)

“Well, you better work a miracle. I’m ready to close this missing persons case. I don’t like to have missing people in my jurisdiction, ya understand?” Captain Moore was quick to point out what he did and did not like in his jurisdiction.

“Sir,” Herman said, “I’ll do my best as quickly as possible. You could send his father to the mortuary in a couple of hours to try to get an I.D. I’ll have him cleaned up by then.”

Herman loaded the body into the back of the hearse. With a nod and a toss of his fingers, he climbed into the driver’s seat. The engine sputtered; the hearse didn’t like the cold weather, and frankly neither did Herman. He watched the officers through the rear-view mirror as he drove off toward the road. Once he was on the road, he relaxed; the tension easing and the pressure behind his eyes fading. He glanced into the mirror again, only this time at the black body bag in the rear end. He couldn’t help but smirk, knowing that this was as good as over, and he had made it out scot-free. He felt good knowing that Bobby would be saved from the punishment that they would have inflicted upon him, knowing that his family was saved the embarrassment of such a scandal.
He should at least teach the boy to be careful,
he thought. This would only be the expert thing to do.

A brief struggle began in his mind. A part of him, the old part, wanted this to be the end of it and was even ashamed that any circumstances had led to the deaths of not only this boy, but of his brother and a complete stranger. This part of him began to scream, and the tension started returning. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and massaged, attempting to relieve the pain. He closed his eyes, only for a moment. When he opened them, he had to jerk the wheel and bring the hearse back onto his side of the road. A near collision with a big rig was enough to snap him back to reality. The horn blared as the truck sped by, mere inches from the driver’s side of the hearse.

The reserved and timid part of him was silent now. Another side of him waged war against this side. The timid side now reeled from the near collision and the possibility of his death, and a more aggressive side screamed. Screaming to turn around and chase down the trucker and rips his heart from his chest. Screaming at the hesitant side and pounding on the walls of his inner being. This would be his dominate side now, there was no denying it; even if he wanted to.

He was back at the mortuary before noon. Herman had this body under control, but he knew he had a problem: the bodies in his basement. The freezer would only hold so much before he had to move on to something else, and though Frank had good taste, he knew that he had taken most of the good meat from the body when he made the stew. Thus, he knew there was only one real solution to his dilemma. He would have to bring the bodies to the crematory in the cover of night. He could easily burn the remains and crush the bone and simply mix the bone fragments with the remains of the other deceased.

First, focus, he told himself, the boy comes first and then take care of your own previous carelessness.

He parked in the rear lot and backed the hearse to the double doors. He unloaded the body quickly and quietly as he would any other corpse. He moved the body to an examination table, and just as he was about to begin his would be examination autopsy, he was greeted by a rapping on the rear doors. Then the buzzer sounded.

Anger rushed over him, and he had to restrain himself from throwing his tools across the room. He knew his sanity slipped further with every passing moment, and he knew that he had to get some control.

On the other side of the door a man waited. He was stocky built, but short, his hair a salt and pepper gray. He thumbed the buzzer button. He was also an impatient man. His name was Tyler Sparks.

Herman opened the door; he gave the short man a cock-eyed look and then saw his laminated badge on his chest. His expression immediately changed, and he greeted the man with an open hand. Tyler hesitated and then gripped his hand.

“Good morning, sir. I’m Tyler Sparks. I’m the state appointed inspector.” He flipped his badge. “I’m also a certified undertaker and in charge of the autopsy from here on in.”

Herman cleared his throat and flung an open hand toward the exam table. “Come on in.”

* * * *

Jessica walked into the dining room. Her mother sitting at the far end of the table, looked up and smiled; a pile of letters and junk mail lay scattered in front of her. This was the mail from Friday and Saturday. She had failed to check the box.

The smile on her mother’s face faded into a scowl as she looked at one letter. She flipped the letter over and ripped the back of the envelope open. She covered her mouth with her hand and tears filled her eyes.

“Mom? Mom? What’s wrong?”

“N ... Nothing, darling, just go in the other room, please?” Jessica left the room and Loretta wept quietly. A manicured hand wiped the tears from her cheeks. She laid the letter on the table and got herself a drink.

The letter inside was a typed memorandum from the state prison. The bland and insensitive language of the letter told her that her brother Roy Lawrence had recently been released from prison. That wasn’t a good thing.

Below the ripped envelope was another envelope. Roy’s chicken-scratch handwriting was on the cover. He spelled her name wrong. He always spelled her name wrong. It was a bad sign, a bad omen. She knew what he was writing for; she knew he would need a place to stay.

* * * *

Herman stepped outside, the cool autumn air felt good against his sweat beaded skin. He wiped the sweat from his brow. His nerves were on end. When he finally felt that he couldn’t make it any longer with that guy in his workspace, Tyler Sparks had decided to confirm that the death had been accidental. He assumed that the boy had been playing near the train tracks and fell off the cliff. If he had survived the fall, he had drowned in the lazy river below. The river had carried his body to where it had been deposited and then found by the hikers.

That was what Tyler had dictated to him as he examined the body and filled out his report. The man left only moments earlier to go file his report. Herman didn’t smoke, but he would have lit one up right now if he had one. Now the fact had been reiterated. Caution was now the priority.

He locked the door and walked to the hearse. It was cold out, the chill that had once felt good now ran up his spine, goose pimples blistering up on his arms. He wished he had brought his coat, but how could he keep things straight? His mind had been on edge, teetering. If the razor leaned one way or the other, he would lose it again.

As he climbed into the driver’s seat, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. It was a man, or more a shape of a man standing near a tree on a vacant lot. The man stepped behind the tree as he turned to get a better look. There was a man there a moment ago, right?

He rolled into the driveway slowly, something just didn’t feel right. Was it the man waiting by the tree? Is that what made him so uneasy? Had there even been a man? Something just didn’t feel right.

When he stepped through the door, that feeling was confirmed by the look on Loretta’s face. She looked like a small child who had just lost their imaginary friend to a terrible fire. She was still sitting at the dining room table; he could see her clearly through the large open archway. Herman walked to her and put a hand on her arm.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

She looked up at him and swallowed hard. He could hear her crackling voice trying to form words. Then, she handed him the letter, her hand quivering as he took it. What could have her so frightened or nervous?

“What’s this?” asked Herman as he flipped the letter over. Without even glancing at the front of the envelope, he took the paper from the pouch. Unfolding it, he saw what it was; he saw it was a letter from Roy, Loretta’s brother. “You mean that bastard is coming here? He’s a lowlife, he can’t stay here!”

With that said, the doorbell rang. Loretta dropped her head. She hoped it was someone else, but she knew, deep down, who it was.

Herman’s face became stern, a frozen statue. He walked to the door and sighing, opened it.

Roy watched as the door swung open. He saw Herman’s face. He never really liked that asshole. He knew his sister could do better than that. His sister was hot, and hell, she could have had Herman’s brother. What was his name? Fred? Doug? Either way, she could have had him. He had money, a lot of money. Instead, she married this
Lurch
looking motherfucker.

Herman wasn’t fond of him either, and he knew it. He didn’t care, but it would help out the cause this time if he actually made himself seem friendly.

Herman didn’t smile, he didn’t acknowledge Roy at all, and instead, he looked across the street. Two police cars were parked on the other side of the road. Their lights were going, but there wasn’t a big scene. The officers had the neighbor outside.
Probably questioning him,
Herman thought. He smirked a little before finally looking at Roy.

“Herman! It’s been far too long!” Roy said and held out an open hand.

Herman ignored it. “What’s it been? Five, six years now?”

“Ten, I was in that shit-hole for ten years,” Roy said with a frown.

Herman sighed and then stepped back, throwing an arm out to the side.

“Thank you, sir. Is Loretta home, I’m sure she’s missed me.”

“She’s in the dining room.”

Herman closed the door slowly, in the background he heard Roy speaking.

“Hey, Sis, I bet you’ve been expecting me. What? Oh, no, I sent that letter three weeks ago. I thought for sure you would have gotten it before today.”

Herman shook his head; just another lowlife out of prison, only not on the street, but in his own home.

At the dinner table, Roy jabbered away as he used to. If he had been born eight years ago, doctors would have diagnosed him with ADHD or some form of hyperactive learning disorder. Alas, he was edging forty, and he despised doctors. In and out of trouble since before he was eighteen, his past was dark and spotty, like liver spots on an elderly person, and his future looked no brighter. He spoke of revenge. Of course, Loretta tried her best to talk sense into him; he kept right on track with the unintelligible prison gibberish. They were only half-siblings, but that didn’t stop Loretta from trying to take care of him. He was still her baby brother, or at least that’s what her father always told her. His record, on the other hand, showed the world that he was quite unable to handle himself, and she did a bang-up job of keeping him straight. Everything from arson to child molestation littered his public record, and it didn’t bother him. His biggest concern was where he would have his next bit of fun and whether or not he could get away with it.

“Loretta, I get what you’re saying, but that fucker is going down!” Roy nearly shouted as he jabbed a piece of meat on his plate.

“Roy, all you’re going to do is get yourself into more trouble and continue along this self-destructive path that you’ve been on all your life,” Loretta said, her voice stern and semi-cold, like a teacher talking to one of her troubled students.

Roy took a few more bites and decided that he was ready to change the subject. “Alright, what have I missed for the last ten years?” He rubbed Bobby’s head. “My God, you were tiny the last time I saw you; and Jessica, what a woman you are blossoming into.” He took a moment to admire her figure from across the table. Her low-cut shirt showed off a fair amount of cleavage, though her breasts were not huge, she could hold her own in a wet t-shirt contest.

Jessica smiled and blushed, she couldn’t remember much about Roy, and she hadn’t seen him, save for a couple of times when she was a small child. He was quite attractive, at least she thought so. He didn’t look his age, and though his face was shadowed by stubble, he had some boyish charm to him. His repertoire of bad-boy acts only added to his allure. Some women were naturally attracted to the outlaw and Jessica was one of them. She loved the idea of being bad, being naughty.

Loretta pointed her finger. “She’s your niece. Don’t you forget that.”

“Chill, Sis, I know family when I see them,” said Roy. He took another bite of food, coyly glancing at Jessica. He watched her squirm a little under his gaze. It wasn’t a squirm of discontent, but movement of arousal. He could always tell when a woman was in need, and that girl was in desperate need.

He felt something against his leg; he almost jumped, but remained calm. He felt it rub up and down his leg for a moment, and then it was gone. Jessica passed him a glance, and he knew that he had roped her. She was in the net, and he wouldn’t let her go now until he got what he wanted. Hell, a free place to stay and free entertainment, what more could a guy ask for? Roy excused himself from the table and asked if they had an extra room that he could stay in.

“We do have a room you can stay in, but it’s a little cluttered. I hope you don’t mind the mess,” Loretta said as she stood. “Please take your plate to the kitchen sink; we don’t have a maid service around here.”

Roy smiled and did as he was told. To be an extra nice guy, he even helped out with the dishes. When all was said and done, he wiped off the stove and countertop and even removed the garbage bag from the wastebasket. “Where do you keep the cans?”

“Out back,” Herman pointed to the back door, “you can’t miss them.”