Tom wasn’t used to Aaron being so short with him and frowned at his tense expression. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Aaron snorted. “What?”
“Seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Aaron did not sound fine.
“Everything okay with Shelby?” Tom ventured carefully. She was usually the source of Aaron’s troubles.
“Shelby is Shelby.” Aaron grimaced. “She hasn’t even moved in yet, but she’s already picked out the ring she wants me to buy, and she’s looking at wedding dresses that cost more than my car. Ugh.”
“She does realize you’re a funeral director, right?” Tom teased, trying to distract himself from the fact he was embalming a man he’d broken the law with.
“She doesn’t get it.” Aaron leaned against the counter with a grim smile. “She sees the fancy cars and the suits and thinks Gerald is like gonna adopt me or I’m gonna be crazy rich or something.”
“But… he doesn’t even own the funeral home now.”
“See? Totally doesn’t get it.” Aaron threw up his hands. “I’m gonna have to start selling kidneys to keep up with her.”
“Sorry, man.” Tom offered a sympathetic smile.
“How are you and Hot Florist Guy?”
“We’re, uh, on a break.” Tom frowned. “Things got a little intense.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. You guys gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, I hope so.” Tom smiled, thinking about peas and carrots now. “Got some very weird but effective dating advice from Edie. That woman must have been wild in her younger years, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Like when she was robbing banks?”
“Pffft. Very funny.” Tom turned the embalming machine on to start his injection. “Your service go okay?”
“Short and sweet.” Aaron shrugged. “I may head off early before Gerald shoves one of his families off on me.”
“Good luck with Shelby.”
“Thanks. Good luck with HFG.”
Tom waved goodbye and focused on Mr. Ross. The man had been dead for so long that fluid did not distribute well to his legs, and Tom had to raise both femoral arteries to inject them directly. It took longer than he’d been hoping, but he was pleased when he was done with the arterial stage of embalming.
Before Tom began cavity treatment, he sewed up all the stab wounds and glued them so no cavity fluid would leak out.
Time ticked by, and when he was finally done, he’d never been so happy to cover up someone with a sheet.
What the hell had happened to this man?
If not Junior, maybe it was some other lowlife Mr. Ross had been dealing with. Tom couldn’t imagine a life of buying up illegal formaldehyde didn’t come without risk, and there was no telling what else he was into.
And of all the funeral homes, why did Mr. Ross come to this one? Was that a coincidence, too?
Tom took a quick break and changed into a fresh set of personal protection equipment to start on Mr. Lundy. He dragged the biohazard trash over right beside the table so he could put the bloody bags into it directly instead of potentially dripping blood all over the floor.
Mr. Lundy had placed the shotgun in his mouth, and the top of his head was shattered. Tom could feel the bones of his forehead were cracked, but the rest of his face was in good shape. He could fix him, but he was going to be here all night.
He took a deep breath and got to work.
The first thing he did was raise both the left and right carotid arteries and tie off the left one. For this embalming, he was going to inject the head and body separately, so he needed to restrict the flow of fluid. Head traumas had a very high risk of swelling, and it was safer to inject the head at a lower pressure.
