Bailed Out (The Anna Albertini Files #2) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,66

A little drool slid out of the side of his mouth and mingled with the dust, creating a ball of ash near his bottom lip. Particles danced through the air, landing on us.

Krissy lowered her phone. “You’re covered in pulverized bone fragments. The term ‘ashes’ is inaccurate.”

“Bone fragments?” Clark whispered, frantically trying to wipe down his arms and shirt. “Oh God, Oh God. Fragments? We’re breathing in dead people? Where’s the shower?” He lunged at Rich, who moved out of the way, disgust on his face and both hands up to ward Clark away.

“Ahhhh,” Clark yelled, his arms waving wildly as he ran toward the reception room, leaving a cloud of what still looked like thick ashes behind him.

“Clark,” I yelled, running after him. He was leaving a trail as he barreled through the reception room, peeked into the ceremonial room, and then ran through another doorway and down some steps to the basement. The crematorium was probably down there, and I so didn’t want to go into that room. “Stop. Seriously.” I coughed and sneezed, trying not to think of the combination of dead people ashes covering my entire body.

Clark tripped and tumbled, coming up and not losing a step but leaving a perfect palm print of ashes on the wall.

He skidded down a hallway and turned into a green tiled room with a smooth cement floor circling a drain. He lunged for a sink set into a white Formica counter and flipped on the faucet, leaning over to frantically splash water onto his face.

I paused and looked at the two sheet-covered tables and then the machinery on the counter as well as the many closed cupboards. We were in an embalming room. At least the tables were vacant.

I sneezed and tried not to think about whose remains were just in my nose. “Clark?” I croaked out.

He turned, and now a muddy paste covered his face and his shirt. “Ashes,” he whispered, turning to toss more water all over him, thickening the concoction even more. It was a shade lighter than his dark skin, and it seemed to be hardening pretty quickly.

I gulped and grit ground between my teeth. “That’s not helping.”

He groaned and reached for the hand soap, lifting it above his head and pumping the soap all over his very short hair. Bubbles popped through the air. It glopped onto the muddy mixture and slowly slid down the sides of his head, covering his ears. His shoulders slumped.

Krissy leaned to my side, lifted her phone, and took another picture.

“Freeze!” The voice was loud and aggressive and came from the doorway behind me.

Clark froze. So did I.

I partially turned just as Krissy snapped several more pictures of me. Then she and Rich stepped out of the way, and a uniformed Bud Orlov came into view.

Bud looked us up and down before holstering his weapon. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Clark whimpered behind me.

I blinked pulverized bone fragments and ash out of my eye. “Hi, Bud.”

Chapter 24

Clark and I were put into the same cell at the police station after having taken showers in the gym in the basement. We both wore ECSO shirts and sweats, and Clark had used a razor to shave his entire head. His skin looked a little raw from the scrubbing he must’ve given it, and if he didn’t stop knocking his head against the wall, he was going to get a concussion.

I cleared my throat from my perch on the bench across from his bench. “This probably isn’t so bad.”

He opened one eye. “Are you kidding me?” Red patches wound down his neck into the T-shirt.

“Did you use a Brillo pad to clean your skin or what?” I’d need to get him some decent lotion. It was the least I could do.

He growled. At least it sounded like a growl. Or maybe it was more of a low grunt. Yeah. That was it.

“I’m sorry about this,” I said.

“It’s my fault. I take full responsibility.” His eyes were bloodshot, and I hoped he hadn’t put soap in them to wash out the ashes. “I knew better, and yet we still trespassed. Worse yet, I really was worried that there was somebody in that coffin. Do you think insanity is contagious?”

“Not really.” I chose to ignore the statement that implied I was insane and had passed it on to him.

He frowned. “Why do you think they haven’t booked us yet?”

I’d been wondering the same thing. “Maybe it’s some sort of professional courtesy, but there’s