Chapter 2
Vesper
After speaking with Mr. Marchant, I hurried back to my office. I would get Elaine’s preparation completed so once I received Mr. Blackstone’s body I would be prepared for the intake and work on it right away.
I don’t ask for much and rarely ask for time off. I will have the last half of my day off tomorrow.
As I meticulously applied the final touches to Elaine's appearance, the task proved more challenging because of how the sickness pulled at her skin.
I gently brushed back the sparse strands of her hair, and carefully positioned a temporary wig.
It was a perfect match to an online photograph of her that was taken before the illness took its toll.
This would suffice for the viewing, allowing those who knew her before the sickness to remember her vibrant self.
As I carefully draped the crisp white sheet over her lifeless form, her attire meticulously arranged for the transfer to the casket, the faint hum of the elevator coming to life echoed down the hallway.
George, who had been lounging comfortably in my rolling chair, sprang up with a start.
The chair spun away across the room as he dashed out the door and a tin of makeup brushes spilled to the floor.
I groaned.
I pulled off my apron and adjusted my long braid over my shoulder to look more presentable. There were times that the family wanted to oversee the body until it was brought down to the transfer area. It wasn’t standard procedure in most funeral homes, but who holds the money, holds the power.
I adjusted my work dress and smoothed my hair in front of the mirror one last time before stepping out of Elaine’s preparation room. I flicked on the harsh fluorescent lights in the holding area for the new intake, it casted a stark bright glow over the sterile room.
As the elevator doors slid open with a mechanical ding, my suspicions were confirmed. A gurney rolled out. Alex, the mortuary transporter, wore the funeral home's dark uniform and guided the gurney out of the elevator.
Following Alex, two men in sleek, expensive suits walked beside it, their expressions composed and lacked emotion.
Leo stepped out of the elevator last, his presence commanding attention.
His dark hair was slicked back with a generous amount of thick gel, each strand meticulously in place, reflecting the soft light of the hallway.
His jawline, slightly puffed from indulgence in too many cannolis, added a touch of softness to his otherwise sharp features.
The peppered goatee, a blend of charcoal and silver, framed his mouth. It was his trademark look, a striking resemblance to his father, though beneath the familiar exterior, their values diverged significantly.
Leo buttoned his expensive looking suit and waved his hand for Alex to move along and to show the men to the holding area where Mr. Blackstone’s body would be held.
“You will see that he will have the room to himself. This is technically an overflow area, but we strictly have it just for him. He will be in excellent hands, by the state’s famous mortician.
” He looked over at me and gave me a supposedly flirty wink.
Gag.
The two men wearing the dark shaded sunglasses, in a basement, stopped their movements to glance me over. I kept my eyes pinned on them, seeing just how identical they appeared in looks by just sunglasses and suits alone.
Leo chuckled nervously. “This is Vesper, who I told you about. She can make the dead seem alive with her work.”
One man hummed and watched as Alex closed the door and gave me the key.
I already had one, but I kept my mouth shut. There was something fishy going on and getting caught in the middle was not something I wanted.
Not when I wanted out.
“Right, anyway. Vesper will have his body completed by tomorrow, ready for the viewing and other festivities.”
One man stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Without a hitch.” He mumbled in a thick Italian accent and held out his hand for Leo.
Leo smirked and reached for his hand to shake it. They both firmly clasped them together and tightened it.
“Of course. Without a hitch.” Leo promised.
The two men and Alex went back to the elevator. Unfortunately, Leo stayed behind and once the door closed I was alone.
I pursed my lips together and waited for the inevitable. An order, a threat but it didn’t come.
“You’ve worked here a long time. You were practically raised here, huh, Vesper?”
I blinked several times. “Yes?”
Raised here was an understatement. I was homeschooled.
I tried to go to school but was made fun of because people found out I lived at a funeral home, in the basement with all the bodies.
The white hair, purple eyes, and the tanned skinned made it too easy to stand out.
I was dubbed… weird. Mom with her tender heart and never wanting to see me cry decided to homeschool me then and apologized for her… different profession.
I didn’t mind it. I found her work interesting and a way to help the living cope and move on from spirits passing through.
“You are loyal to the family, and I find that endearing.” Leo approached me and put his hands in his pockets. “You are always kind and tender to the people who come in and out of this home and help them see their loved ones for who they are before they are put to rest.”
If I hadn’t heard this man’s words through the grates of this old home, I would have found his words thoughtful.
But I knew better.
“What is it you want, Mr. Marchant?” My words weren’t cold, but they weren’t friendly either. Ever since my mother's death, I couldn’t bear to get close to anyone, not with her death holding so many loose ends.
Leo chuckled and rubbed his goatee. “I’m a single man, Vesper and you are a rare sight. I want someone as passionate about this business as me. To make families happy.”
You mean, take their money.
I lifted my head to pretend I understood.
“Are you speaking of a business transaction?” I lifted a brow.
Leo chuckled loudly and then rubbed his hand behind his neck.
“Vesper, you have more fire than I realized. But no, not necessarily. I would want you to be my wife. That would mean wifely duties also. I would provide husbandly duties as well. You would be taken care of, get out of this basement. You would have much more money to spend, you would be essentially part of the business and the family.”
Gross.
His father must have told him I wanted to leave. This would essentially make me stay, permanently.
The idea of marrying such a man made me sick to my stomach. I’ve lived in silence in these hallways, in the basement. I know how he acts in front of his father versus when he’s not there. He was a complete covert narcissist, and I was not going to fall for it.
He was hoping that with my lack of social skills, or lack of dating, I would jump at the chance to marry him. That he was a catch. He was a rich bachelor, one any woman would want to marry and keep but I was no such woman.
He probably thought I was a virgin too.
I smirked internally.
“Thank you Mr. Marchant, for the offer, but–” I began.
Leo stepped forward and pushed a tendril of hair that had fallen in front of my face and put it behind my ear. I stood my ground and did not show fear.
“Shh, you don’t need to answer right now.
Just something to think about. We can go on dates, really get to know one another.
I wouldn’t make you go into this blind. I know we don’t know each other very well.
” Leo winked at me and I internally shuttered.
“Good night, Vesper. Thank you for taking on this high profile intake for us.”
Leo didn’t take the elevator, instead going up the stairs so I could hear his expensive shoes click up the steps.
I pouted and crossed my arms.
“Yeah, like I have a choice. I’m the only one that deals with bodies anyway.” I flipped my braid over my shoulder and stomped into Blackstone’s locked door and opened it.
“Time to get to work.”
I grabbed my bundle of flowers from the fridge that were delivered from the florist this morning and I cradled them to my chest.
The bouquet was a beautiful arrangement of chrysanthemums, black roses, and vibrant red poppies, each bloom carefully arranged and tied together with a rich, deep red ribbon that matched the intensity of the flowers.
The florist, who had an uncanny knack for understanding my mother's tastes, had crafted this masterpiece.
I had often hoped that their shared appreciation for beauty and their similar ages would bring them together, but sadly, that hope never blossomed into reality.
Mom never could fall in love with anyone else, she would tell me.
I wore one of my better looking outfits today. A short black skirt with black tights and a burgundy colored sweater. Fall was approaching and night had become chilly. I didn’t know how long I would stay out, but I knew I didn’t want to be back in time for the viewing.
Mr. Blackstone’s body was perfectly laid in its coffin, the bullet hole to his head and chest covered like they were never there.
The urge to Google this man was strong, but the less I knew, the better. Sometimes being ignorant was best when preparing a body but after I covered the hole in his head, applied make-up, done his hair and dressed him, curiosity got the best of me.
He was a criminal.
The information was all right here. He owned a lot of businesses: restaurants, construction, real estate, stripclubs, pawn shops.
While it might look okay, the criminal charges against him also made it look really suspicious.
Murder, rape, sex trafficing, money laundering all charges that were dropped.
There was the occasional charity event where he donated money to look good in the eyes of the public.
It was all a cover up though. I’ve read enough mafia romances to know that.
The strangest thing was, there was no mention of his death in the paper. Upon further investigation, I checked the computer for other intake papers to find out what grave sight he would be placed in after the viewing this evening.
There was none chosen.
Just leave it, Vesper. It won’t be your problem what they do with the body.
The wind whipped through the open field, tangling my hair with the bouquet in my arms. The sweet, earthy scent of the blossoms filled the air, mingling with the heavy weight of memories.
As I trudged along the worn path, my eyes were drawn to the shadowy outline of the forest ahead, a silent sanctuary near the modest graves. These were the resting places for those who couldn't afford the grand plots reserved for the wealthy, their headstones simple and weathered by time.
Of course, my mother was buried there, but really, I think she would have chosen this place on her own anyway.
The sun was setting, and you could see the full moon rising above the trees. The sky was already fighting with itself and the darkness. It would overtake the light when I finally arrived at my mother’s grave.
The site was clean, I kept it that way, along with the others that were buried here.
She’d only been gone for a few years, but it felt like an eternity.
The only person that really understood me left me on this living plane as soon as I left her to go to school.
What I didn't understand was, she even told me to go.
I’ve wrestled with guilt for years, but this year I decided I would no more.
This year I decided I had to let it go. Because I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t live and do her job for this funeral home that was changing into something I couldn’t stand for.
I’d have to learn to keep her spirit alive within me.
“Hi, mom.” I unwrapped the flowers carefully as I felt a chill in the air. The wind picked up and my stringy hair wrapped around my neck. “I came to tell you I won’t be living on the estate anymore. I’m going to move on okay? Just like you wanted from the start.”
I sniffed and pulled the rain bucket that was behind her headstone. I filled the permanent vase that stood in front of the headstone and placed the flowers inside.
“Was it because I left and you didn’t want me to? Was it too long between visits? I called you every day.”
The tombstone stared back at me.
Alicia Henri Murose
A Loving Mother
Master of her Craft
“The body is but a vessel.”
I pushed back a tear and made sure the dark mascara didn’t smudge under my eye.
“Yeah, yeah. The spirit is what is important. Then why did you hurt your vessel huh? Why did you let your spirit leave?”
The wind swooped and whistled around me, sending a flurry of crisp, golden leaves from the forest floor spiraling upward, tangling playfully in my hair. The biting chill pressed insistently against my back.
I turned my head back to the mansion and saw the lights flicker in the distance. I was a good way away but I heard voices along the wind that continued to surround me.
Whispers on the wind that came from the forest.
I’ve never walked inside, no one did. There used to be a fence here when I was a child behind these other old headstones but now there wasn’t. I lifted my brow and stood.
I stepped several paces away and looked up and down where there used to be a divide and I saw that the fence had been cut and torn away.
“What the actual?” my voice trailed when I jogged down the forest line and saw tire tracks.
The sun was on the horizon and the moon was quickly rising, a full one.
Voices carried on the wind grew louder and they were coming from within the forest.
I bit my lip.
Am I going to be the crazy girl in a horror movie that goes trampling through the forest at night to chase the voices? Or am I going to go back to the mansion and act like I didn’t see anything?