The conversation behind me moved on to the pie Mrs. Cranson brought with her to the post-funeral memorial. Jalinda was a damn PI client. I never asked her alma matter. He nudged me when I didn't answer right away. I reached out, trying to snatch away the pamphlet from Tony, but he reared back and held it out of my reach.

"Don't be an elitist," I said after lowering my hand. It wasn't worth risking everyone's notice. He'd obviously already discovered the answer.

Tony sputtered, his lips half open as he stared at me in disbelief. "A what?"

I tipped my head to the side and crossed my arms, doing a slow blink. Katy always said the slow blink let a predator know they didn't scare you. And right then, Antonio Franco had predator written all over him.

"I'd never judge a friend based on her college affiliation, so it never came up."

Tony belted out a laugh and drew the eyes of three people from the group to his side. I didn't dare turn around and see if anyone-including Ashley-from Jimmy's group turned to look.

A loud sniffle and a cry came from behind me. I waited two seconds and then my curiosity spilled over, and I turned to find Ashley holding on to Jimmy's arm, crying deeply against his ill-fitting black suit.

Tony lifted another eyebrow like he read my mind at the suspicious behavior. I ignored him and stepped backward, getting closer to the group and a little to the left. Unfortunately, my new position put me between two different milling groups and an even louder wail from the other blocked out what Jimmy whispered into Ashley's ear.

"I don't know how I'll ever live without him," an older woman said to my right, drawing my attention away from Jimmy's group.

Live without him?

Where did she think she was?

The woman swallowed another cry. "Brent is everything to me. I have to get him back."

My stomach dropped, and I tilted my head to the side to get a better view of the new group. Mrs. Coogs leaned against a heavy-set man sniffling into his shoulder. What was with women and snotting all over men at funerals? First Ashely and now Mrs. Coogs.

Plus, she'd made it seem like Brent was the only man in her life. If that were true, who was the dude privy to her sobs?

She lifted her head and stared out into the crowd.

Shit. If she went two inches to the right, she'd spot me and then I'd be the one getting Brent-caused snot on my jacket.

My gaze darted around the room in a hurry, looking for an escape. There wasn't anywhere to go that wouldn't force me to run for it and cause a scene.

Anywhere, except one spot.

Behind Tony, the door to the mysterious room the man had escaped to earlier shined outward like a beacon. Nothing behind that door could be scarier than Mrs. Coogs. Without a word to Tony, I grabbed on to his arm again, twisted open the unlocked door, and crammed us both through the opening.

The door closed with a quiet tink behind us and my mouth dropped open as I stared at what horror I just unleashed on us. Mrs. Coogs might not have been the nightmare I'd originally imagined.

No. Get a grip, Vonnie. It's not what you think.

"What the..." Tony's words trailed off as he stared in revulsion at the caskets lining the back wall of the room. Then his gaze twisted to the side where someone stacked them on shelves along the side.

So many caskets.

So, so many caskets.

Big ones.

Small ones.

Some with gold trim.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, playing cool.

He glared at me and then back at a black casket in the corner. "I don't enjoy being by so many dead bodies."

I laughed. "These are empty." They had to be. No one kept the dead lying out like this. Did they? "It's a showroom. You know the place they take families to look at their options. Calm down, Tiger."

Tony took a step forward and then hesitated. "Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes for emphasis. Someone had to be the strong one in the situation and if not the big Bounty Hunter, I'd step up to the plate. "Totally."

He didn't look convinced, and I needed him not to freak out and run back into the main room until I'd come up with a plan on how to avoid Mrs. Coogs, eavesdrop on Ashley, and figure out who killed Jalinda.

Oh yeah, and eventually find Brent.

And do something with the damn box. I needed the closet space for shoes and random crap.

I plodded to the far side of the room, rolling my eyes with extreme exaggeration the entire time, and lifted the top of a casket. "See."

Tony's eyes widened, and he stepped back until he hit the door.

"What?" I dropped my gaze to the casket, gasped, and let the lid fall on the dead body wearing a pair of overalls. When did Brody Miller even die? "No, fucking way."

I scanned the room again. There were so many caskets. My eyes widened and my stomach did a somersault as I tried not to count them but did anyway. Twenty-one. Were there twenty-freaking-one dead bodies in this room?

The door behind Tony rattled and somehow his eyes grew wider. Then he sprinted toward me and twisted us both behind the casket in question before the door opened. The casket with the dead body inside of it. Eww.

The door squeaked open and Jimmy ran his hand over his ugly suit, walking into the room while someone held the door open for him. He took one look around the space and halted. "Umm."

Another man, in a nice, well-fitted black suit, stepped inside after him. "Don't worry, they're empty."

Liar.

They had Brody Miller shoved in one of them.

The door opened again; the space filling with humans. Living and dead. The area where Tony and I hid was barely a small box shape. Just the open space behind the casket and the wall. We squeezed in tightly together with me practically sitting on his lap so we didn't tumble out.

Jimmy's mother stopped at his side, not seemingly concerned with the rows of coffins. "What's this about, Charlie?"

The third man, now known as Charlie, had the decency to let his gaze fall to the floor when he answered, as if being under Mrs. Jones' scrutiny might suffocate him. "It's just that we haven't received the payment yet, ma'am. If you need to set up a payment plan, that is acceptable. Most people require a few months to pay off the services, but we traditionally make arrangements before services. My apologies that someone did not handle it earlier, ma'am."

"Jimmy?" Ruth asked her son but glared at Charlie.

"Money has been a little tight after Christmas. I bought those tickets to take Jalinda to Mexico."

So the happy couple had money problems. Important knowledge.

His mother scoffed. "I told you Mexico was too expensive. Why couldn't she take the family trip to Ohio like we do every spring?"

Jimmy sighed and closed his eyes for an extended period. "She didn't want to go to Ohio again, Mom. I can pay, but the money from the insurance claim is taking longer because of the investigation. Can we set up a payment plan?" he asked, speaking directly to Charlie and pretending his mother wasn't right next to him, trying to kill a man with her bare eyes.

"Absolutely." Charlie's head popped up. "Most of our clients opt for a payment option."

Mrs. Jones' lips pinched tighter. "Absolutely not. The Jones family doesn't need a payment plan for anything. I will write a check." She grabbed at her purse in annoyance. Digging for a checkbook.

The thin black check register landed on top of the casket next to us, and I quietly released a breath. If she'd picked the one we were hiding behind, there's no way she wouldn't have spotted me next to Tony.

Ruth scribbled out an amount on the check, her pen so hard against the paper it tore on the edge and forced her to start again before demanding Charlie tell her the full amount owed.

Tony and I both raised an eyebrow at the number Charlie requested. Damn, if it cost that much to be buried, they'd have to let my body float out to sea when I died.

My jacket vibrated, and I slammed my hand over it to stop the buzz in the quiet room. Only the shuffling of feet and scraping of pen on paper louder than the phone call covered the sound. Damn it.

Tony placed his hand over the pocket, and his angry expression met mine. At least I had the ringer shut off. What did the man want from me? A girl had to have a phone to get new clients.

Mrs. Jones ripped the check from the book and threw it at Charlie. "Let's lay my precious daughter-in-law to rest and be done with this money nonsense."

"Yes, ma'am," Charlie said, slipping the check into his suit pocket.

We both waited, frozen in our position, as the three walked toward the door and my phone buzzed again. This time a hard quick vibration informing me the call disconnected.

"Did you hear that?" Mrs. Jones said, with one foot out the door.

My phone vibrated again with a new call.

Fuck me.