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.
Inside the car, she had a choice of three unlabeled buttons. The funeral home was only one story, so that meant ground level and two levels below ground. Weird. She hit the bottom one. All the way down she tried to convince her heart it didn’t need to pump gallons of extra blood so she could handle a few minutes among the dead. Her heart didn’t believe her. It redoubled its efforts.
The elevator doors slid open, and Cassie stepped out. She was in a long wide hallway with closed doors lining both sides. Was this usual for a funeral home? The lights were a little too dim, the shadows a little too deep. Relieved, she saw Tony and Len waiting for her at the end of the hall in front of the door on the right.
Please, no bodies, no bodies, no bodies. Her legs felt rubbery by the time she reached the men.