Chapter 5
LEONORE
One week ago, a ghost came into my morgue and walked out with its fucking body.
Vanished into the dead of night, and I need to find out who was behind it.
I don’t need to know why, because the less Silas drama I’m involved in, the better it is for me.
I just need to focus on what I’ve always been good at, remaining in the shadows where I like it.
The whole week goes by, and not once do I hear from Silas or any of his men.
A part of me is praying that he’s already found the culprit and is having his moment to grieve.
Better yet, I’d much rather him find someone else to work with—more cooperative seems to be to his liking.
My plate is already filled, and I’m busy enough as it is, let alone adding more bodies to my table quite literally.
That, and I know that although the four families play nice for the most part, Silas is notoriously the most dangerous.
I don’t like working for someone who has more pull than anyone else and probably already owns half the city.
I need to keep my head down. But no matter how much I try to investigate what happened that night, I keep coming up blank.
I’ve used all my resources to track down where the body has gone or who has taken it.
Other families seem to act the same around me, so whoever took it is definitely keeping quiet about it.
A tight knot has remained in my stomach since that day.
If one person can do it, others might try to do it too.
Test boundaries, disrespect my process. I can hold my own, but I also know how thin the wire is that everyone dances on when dealing with these families.
I refuse to draw any further attention to myself. I can’t afford to.
“Busy night?” Tori asks as she walks in after a week away.
I have already been here for four hours.
Usually, she starts earlier, but she said she had an appointment today, and I was more than happy to let her go.
That means no complaining about my music, and I can have it as loud as I want, not that I don’t usually.
But I turn it up just a bit more when she’s gone.
I called her after the incident, but I didn’t specifically tell her that the body went missing because the fewer people who know, the better. But when she closed up the day before the body went missing, everything sounded as usual, and all the bodies were exactly where they were supposed to be.
I have a gnawing feeling about Silas’s silence. It’s never a good thing when a monster is quiet.
“It’s been okay. Just the two came in.” I nod to the two bodies on the stainless steel beds.
One is a woman in her late sixties who slipped in the shower and cracked her head open, dead on impact, while the other is a gunshot wound to the leg.
It hit an artery, and he effectively bled out and died. Unlucky really.
“Do you think my boobs will look like that when I get older?” Tori asks me, as she fidgets with the pins in her tight bun. I glance at the lady on my bed.
“No, but even before your skin sags, your breasts should still sit perky,” I tell her, and I watch as the relief washes over her.
She got breast implants with last year’s bonus, fifteen thousand.
Not that she needed them; Tori is twenty-five, and I would say she has a perfect body.
But not to her. She wanted bigger breasts. More power to her.
“Good, at least I know when gravity hits, these puppies will stay high.” Her hands touch her breasts, and she wiggles them. “Oh, and you have a visitor. He was waiting in the front area when I arrived.”
My stomach sinks, and I drag my eyes to meet hers. “Didn’t you lock it?” I ask her.
“I thought I did…” she says, eyeing me. “Did he break in? Shit, do I need to call the police?” I try not to roll my eyes. Maybe you should’ve led with that coming in.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll go out there.” Removing my gloves, I put them in the bin and walk past her, through the doors which lead to the waiting area. A man stands looking out the window with slicked-back mousy-colored hair and a tattoo of two ravens in flight high up his neck.
With that branding tattoo, I already know whose crew he belongs to, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. Well, at least it isn’t Silas himself.
This man is attractive, though, coming in at six feet. Looks to be in his late thirties, with striking green eyes. Especially when they slide over to me. It’s the deep scar over his lips that catches my attention.
He turns around with a theatrical flourish, suddenly every inch of him the perfect gentleman. I’m sure women fall for it, but the first thing I notice is the gun in his holster that he doesn’t bother to hide. He just smiles at me.
“Miss Graves?” he asks. I step up to the counter, and my fingertips touch the gun that I have stashed below. I always have it there for safety. Thankfully, I have not had to pull it yet.
“Yes. And you are?” It’s late, and I’m technically not expecting anyone. Even though I sometimes get random bodies that need to be disposed of.
“Pleasure to meet you. I am Valen. I work for Mr. Vescari.” He places his hand on his chest as he speaks, then drops it.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope, then puts it on the counter and slides it toward me.
I make no move to touch it. “I also have this.” He pulls out a card and does the same thing. I look down to see it’s an invite.
“His niece’s birthday?” I ask, confused as I read it.
What the fuck? Has he found the body? What’s the extra money for?
I’ve barely slept this week, trying to figure out where I fucked up, exposing myself so much that someone could break in.
I don’t appreciate Valen doing the same, so I consider that I need to reinvest in tighter measures as I look down at the chunk of cash.
“Yes, it’s a large gathering, and as a gesture of good faith, he would like you to attend. No partners allowed, just yourself.”
I frown. What is this lunatic doing inviting me to a Vescari family birthday party?
Those things are so heavily vetted. Not to mention, I technically work for the enemy.
Unless he’s trying to sell me on the idea that he’s a “family man,” hoping that if I consider him just the man instead of the monster, I’ll bend to his will.
That, and if any of the other families see me there, it’s bad news for me. I don’t get involved.
It takes me a moment, but I finally shake my head.
“Please remind Mr. Vescari that our involvement is business only. I’m not interested in being invited to personal things such as family birthday celebrations.”
Valen looks surprised but hides it well behind his handsome smile.
“He is a good man to have on your side,” he says, and his gaze dips to the cash. “And it is business. Money in transaction for your time.”
“A good man…” I smile. “Who tries to hire my time like a sex worker. No, thank you.” I have nothing against women who work in the industry.
Credit to you if you can work your body to make men squirm and get a paycheck for it.
But I run in the business of dead bodies.
The colder, the better. That’s what gets my heart going.
And based on the bodies that come into my morgue, I know what type of man Silas is. I’ve had people with missing limbs, tongues cut out… You name it, he’s done it. I’ve seen it all, and it all goes back to him.
Not to say that the other crews aren’t just as bad, but I don’t see as many bodies from them as I do from him. And the only time those bodies are brought in is by their own crew members when they’ve been used as a message. I can only imagine how many of them go missing in the same instance.
Not even the authorities are willing to put anything on him, but I listen to everyone who comes in, and they all blame it on him.
He just has better connections to cover his tracks, which would lead back to him.
And I guess if he hires me, I’ll become another one of those tracks he can cover.
“Tell him I kindly decline, thank you,” I say without a smile.
Valen and I watch one another for a moment. I imagine he’s not used to women declining his offers either. I want to ask about the body but remain silent. That’s only a discussion I can have with Silas, and preferably not at all. But how else am I supposed to find out which crew did it?
Then again, the better option is not to deal with Silas because that will only draw more attention. Fuck. I’m so torn. Which way will keep me hidden in the dark in my little happy place here at the morgue?
“I’m sure he’ll be most upset. Thank you for your time.” He turns and walks out, deliberately leaving the cash. I don’t like it when they leave cash because I hear Silas’s words echo. “I own you.”
As soon as he leaves, I walk over to the door and ensure it’s locked this time. Walking back to the counter, I slide the invite straight into the bin and open the drawer to slide the money in. Usually, Tori will come out and count it. But curiosity gets the better of me for a change, and I open it.
Holy shit.
I almost drop it.
It’s more than double what all the other crews pay me, of that I am sure.
Is it fake?
“Tori,” I call. She comes out to the front within seconds, and I hand her the cash. “Check if it’s fake.” She nods and looks in the envelope, her eyes going wide.
“Did he just bring this?” she asks.
“Check it, will you?” Without an answer, she does just that. I head back to my office and start to pack up for the night when she walks back in.
“It’s real, every last hundred-dollar bill.” She hands it to me, and I place it in my purse.
I justify the large sum as a down payment for the next body that will come across my table. And I know exactly what I’m going to do with the money.
“Thanks, you good for the rest of the night?” I ask her.
“Yep.” I offer her a wave before I turn to leave.
When I get in my car, I know exactly where I’m going.
To visit the only person I consider a friend and, better yet, family.
The drive doesn’t take me long, and when I pull up to the flashy neon lights, I make sure to hold my bag close to my body as security nods at me and lets me through.
“Hey, Leonore,” Soph calls from the bar. I walk over there and place my purse on it.
“Hey, Ness on tonight?”
She nods her head. “You know it. She’s about to go on the stage.”
“Thanks, give me a water, please.” Soph turns around to reach for a bottle of water and slides it across the bar to me.
I reach into my purse and slide her a fifty.
“Keep the change.” Her cheeks redden, and she thanks me.
I look away, reaching for my purse and water, and walk to the front of the stage.
Slow music starts before the red curtains open and out dances Nessa.
I have been friends with Nessa since I moved here.
She was my first friend in town, and she’s been my ride or die ever since.
We’re two opposites, but somehow it works.
She is all glossy lips and brightly colored clothes, while I wear black and look like I’ve stepped out of the 1950s.
A few of the men start hollering as they throw money up on the stage.
She’s dressed in a little red tutu skirt and a red leather shiny top that just covers her nipples.
She doesn’t spot me right away. She starts on the opposite side of the stage and removes pieces of clothing, getting right to the edge so men can put money in her G-string before she moves around, crawling to where I am.
As soon as her blue eyes land on me, she smiles the brightest smile.
“Missed you,” she whispers, loud enough that only I can hear.
“Missed you more,” I tell her and lean forward to put a few fifty notes into her G-string.
She gets back up and dances on the pole.
When the music dies down, she walks off the stage.
I stay where I’m seated even as the next dancer walks out.
Hands touch my shoulders, and I look behind me to find Nessa with a silk gown covering herself as she leans down and kisses my cheek from behind.
“It’s been too long. Where have you been?” she asks, taking the seat next to me.
“Working, as usual.” She shivers and shakes her head. While she will never come into the morgue or like the morgue, she still understands that I love it. Reaching into my purse, I pull a small stack out and hand it to her. She eyes it but doesn’t reach for it.
“What are you doing?” She knows I do this even though she hates it.
Her parents died long before mine did, and the only love she has known apart from her daughter is the love of abusive men.
I don’t ever want her to rely on a man again.
So every now and then, I stop by and try to help as much as I can.
“Take it. Buy Larissa something cute. I’ll have to come and visit soon. Sorry I have been busy.” She doesn’t know where I get the extra money, and I prefer to keep it that way. I certainly don’t share details about the families I work for or how this last week has kept me on edge.
“I was just happy to see you, Leo. I don’t need your money. It’s why I dance.”
“Okay, well, take it and go on vacation.” I push it toward her, and she looks at it.
“Thanks,” she says and finally takes it. “I’m finishing up. Come back to mine with me?”
I should tell her no, that I’ve hardly slept for the past week, but I’m not in my head as I nod.
She jumps up from the chair and tells me to wait as she goes backstage.
I drink my water as I watch the other dancer on stage and throw her a few hundred-dollar bills before Nessa finally comes back out.
Here’s the thing: the money I receive is blood money to some, but I know how much it can change a woman’s life.
Especially since I know how it feels building from the ground up alone.
Sometimes we all just need a little help.
When I got to town six years ago, Nessa and I shared an apartment.
It was only one bedroom, so we got used to sleeping in the same bed, and we came to appreciate having someone there.
Even though it was odd for me, I knew that Nessa enjoyed it, so I never complained.
We needed one another then, and I’ll always be grateful to her for being the only person who was there for me.
And I will always have her back in return.