Lorelei stepped through into the back workroom and sighed. “You could try lights, you know?” She flipped on the overhead lights.

  Tasmin sat back and blinked several times at the change in light. “Yeah, thanks,” she muttered in disgust. “You know I do my best work in the dark.”

  Her sister stared at her. “You’re just getting weirder, you know that?”

  Exasperated, Tasmin stood and glared at sister, her hands on her hips. “It’s not really a great day. Did you have a reason for stopping by?”

  Her sister glared right back. “Yeah, I need you to work again. Plus, you ordered supplies. Here are the invoices,” she stated, passing them over.

  Tasmin looked down at them and sighed. “And I told you that I’d pay them as soon as the pieces were picked up.”

  “That doesn’t cover my bills though,” Lorelei snapped in frustration. “We’re both trying to run businesses here, but, in order to make that happen, we both have to pay our bills.”

  There was definitely some truth to the matter. “Sorry about that,” Tasmin replied. “How about we renegotiate my use of the facilities?”

  “How about you come work for me part-time as your payment for using the facilities,” her sister suggested, for the umpteenth time. “You know I need help.”

  “You do,” Tasmin agreed, “but it won’t do your business reputation any good if people know I’m back there again.”

  “So, they don’t find out,” she muttered. “We’ll keep you in the background.”

  “You mean, tucked away in the basement, doing all the lovely Dracula things, so nobody knows?”

  “Hey, don’t put it that way,” Lorelei argued, again glaring at her sister. “Respect and all that.”

  “Right, I got it. … Did you ever wonder where our lives might have been if we weren’t born into a family of morticians?”

  “Yeah, all the time,” Lorelei declared in disgust. “Do you know how long it took to get a boyfriend who would go out with me because it was me and not on a dare to go out with the spooky chick whose parents dealt with all the dead bodies in town?”

  “Since I had the same problem, yeah, I get it,” she said. Then the two of them smiled at each other.

  “Still,” Lorelei grumbled, “it’s the life we have and apparently is what we’re supposed to do. It’s not as if we can turn around and change it now.”

  “I know, but sometimes I wonder if we shouldn’t have though,” Tasmin noted, her tone serious.

  Lorelei stared at her and nodded. “It’s not the first time you’ve mentioned that—though, in your case, things went a little sideways for a while.”

  “Ya think?” Tasmin quipped. “A mental breakdown is how Mom put it, as I recall.”

  “What did you expect her to say? That you’d started seeing and having conversations with dead people? You know that wouldn’t go over well.”

  “Even though I was talking to the dead people?”

  “Sure, that’s what you say, but nobody else is talking to them. So no one believed you.”

  “And why would you even think I would lie about that?” Tasmin asked, staring at her sister, and angry all over again.

  “Look. I’m not here to argue with you,” Lorelei replied. “I’m just here to remind you that you have unpaid bills. The bottom line is that I need them paid, and, if you can’t pay them, I expect you to show up and to work them off.”

  “Great. Thanks a lot.”

  “You need use of the facilities, and I need the help,” she stated. “So you know it’s a good solution.”

  “Maybe,” Tasmin muttered, “but then I’d end up working twenty-four hours a day, trying to do that work and mine.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to go off and have your own business, doing this,” she argued, with a wave of her hand at the workshop. “It’s all Dad can even do to let you in the house now.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Tasmin replied, staring at her sister. “It’s okay for him to be handling dead bodies, but it’s not okay for me to be handling dead body parts? I don’t get it.”

  Her sister winced at that. “Okay, I get it. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but it’s still him. And again, we don’t have any choice in it. This is how it is.”

  Tasmin sighed, put down her screwdriver, then stood and faced her sister. “I shouldn’t get angry at you,” she muttered. “I’m just frustrated. I had the police here this morning about a break-in, and I needed that like a hole in the head.”

  “What do you mean, a break-in?” Lorelei asked, looking around. “What was taken?”

  “One of my pieces and, worse yet, it was put on display down on the Old Fountain Square.”

  Lorelei turned and looked at her in horror.

  Tasmin nodded.

  “Oh my God. They took one of your tattoos and put it on display?”

  “Yes. I don’t know whether it was a joke or something more sinister, but, of course, that made for a great morning,” she shared. “I’ve got the jobs to pay those invoices. I just need to get the work done.”

  “I’d rather you came and worked for me anyway,” Lorelei admitted. “I’m getting pretty burnt out.”

  “You and me both,” Tasmin agreed sadly. “We’re both in an industry with very little forgiveness and way-too-much work.”

  “Since the damn pandemic came through, we have an awful lot more in the way of bodies,” Lorelei explained. “We’re really strapped. Dad’s working full-time, even though he’s retired. Mom’s been in the office every day, and here they had hoped to be off traveling and doing fun stuff at this stage of their life.”

  “I think we all thought we’d be doing fun stuff, regardless of the stage of life,” Tasmin noted indignantly. “Instead we’re both running businesses and just trying to stay afloat.”

  Her sister stopped and frowned at her. “Are you not doing this because you want to?”

  Tasmin now frowned and stared at her shop. “I guess I’m doing this because I feel compelled to,” she muttered.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good answer,” Lorelei replied, still frowning.

  “No, maybe not, but why are you doing what you’re doing?”

  Her sister glared at her. “Simple. Because you won’t.”

  Tasmin laughed. “Not to mention the fact that having me around there wasn’t doing the business any good.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Lorelei admitted sadly. “Ever since it got out that you were talking to the corpses, it started freaking people out.”

  “Sorry about that,” Tasmin said, “yet it just happens to be true.”

  “See? And that’s how we end up in trouble.” Her sister didn’t seem to know what to say. “Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut, if that’s the case?”

  “It’d be easier if the dead wouldn’t talk to me, but they insist on it, so what am I supposed to do? Ignore them?”

  “Absolutely you’re supposed to ignore them,” Lorelei cried out. “Everybody else would. I don’t know why the heck they would talk to you and nobody else.”

  “Uh, maybe because I talk back to them,” Tasmin replied.

  “Yeah, but it’s not as if you can do anything helpful. I mean, we’ve had murder victims in, and you’re not talking to them.”

  “I’ve talked to some of them. The trouble is, you guys want me to give answers to the cops that I can’t get because the dead don’t have any answers to give me.”

  “And how does that work? They can give you all kinds of shit, but they can’t give you anything helpful?”

  “Yeah, that’s about it.” Tasmin grew weary of this same conversation that they’d had time and time again. Nobody seemed to understand—or to even give a crap—and it was wearing her down. “Look. I can come tonight and help out, if that’s of any benefit.”

  “Yeah, it’s a benefit,” Lorelei muttered, almost absentmindedly. “Anything is a benefit. I’ll see you at six p.m.” And, with that, her sister turned and left.

  If it weren’t for the ongoing family dynamic, Tasmin would have laughed at the exchange, but it was something that was constant, never-ending. Every time she tried to get further away from the family business, they ended up in trouble and dragged her back in again. Sure, she could say no, but she really did need to use their facilities for her work.

  Hearing the front door for a second time, she got up, plastered a smile on her face, headed out to greet the first customer of the day.

  *

  Follow-up phone calls hadn’t provided any enlightenment to speak of. Hanson checked with the security company, and, yes, they showed that the cameras were out this morning, but they had no information as to when it happened. They were checking their systems and would get back to him. Also, despite the invoice, they had no record of a technician going to her place last week. Pondering that, Hanson studied the invoice, picked up the phone, and called her.

  “According to the security company,” he began, without preamble, “they didn’t send anybody last week.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Well,” she said slowly, “somebody came, so what the hell did they want?”

  “Presumably to find out how to get into your place.”

  “Great,” she muttered.

  “What about the cameras?” he asked again.

  “I told you that they were out.”

  “Yes, and what about last week when he was there?”

  “It overwrites every seven days, I believe.”

  “Of course, and he was there eight days ago, I gather.”

  She winced. “Yes, that’s exactly when he was here.”

  “So that was also on purpose.”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “Do you remember anything about him?”

  “I wasn’t even here at the time. Remember? My sister was working for me.”

  “What happened? Why were you not there?”

  “I was a couple states over, doing a talk to a group of morticians.”

  “Interesting. About tattoos?”

  “Yes, about that, about preserving skin, about maintaining ethical boundaries, that sort of thing,” she muttered. “I lecture on it quite regularly, but I do try to stick to just my group of people in the industry, instead of trying to get new people on board.”

  “Of course. That would be a less contentious position for you.”

  “Denial is one thing, but giving these talks to people who aren’t believers in the first place is a whole different story. I also talk directly to tattoo artists and at several of the art shows.”

  “Of course. I’m sure that is something you have to develop from the ground up.”

  “Exactly. Look. I can give my sister a call and see if she remembers anything about the technician.”

  “I still have to call her anyway,” he said, “so I’ll do that.” With that, he hung up and quickly dialed the number Tasmin had provided. “I’m looking for Lorelei Baker.”

  “You got her,” she replied, her tone cross. “What’s up?”

  He immediately identified himself. “I’m Hanson MacGyver, a detective for the local police department. I’m investigating the break-in at your sister’s place.”

  “Great, what’s that got to do with me?”

  “Some days you work there, I hear?”

  “I wouldn’t say I work there. I occasionally fill in when she has to be away, just as she fills in here when we’re trying hard to stay afloat.”

  “Right. Well, a week ago a technician came in to work on the security system, and you were filling in for her that day.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not like I noticed. It was really quiet, so I was doing a bunch of my own paperwork. I just have to be a warm body there. It’s not as if I do any of her work.”

  “And yet you could, couldn’t you?”

  “Sure, I could. I mean, we’re in the same industry, whether people want to think of it that way or not. But I don’t, as it’s her job, and I have plenty of my own headaches here.”

  “How is business?”

  “Crazy,” she muttered. “In fact, my sister will be working at the mortuary tonight because we’re getting behind.”

  “Right,” he muttered. “So you don’t remember anything about the technician?”

  “No, I remember he was there, but I don’t remember anything about him. He had a uniform. He had an ID, a business card that he left behind, and he told me that he thought he had it fixed. I just nodded. He left the invoice, and I carried on.”

  “Of course. Thank you for your time.”

  “Do you really think this is targeting her or is it targeting the person who had the tattoo?”

  “I have no idea. We’re in the very initial stages of our investigation.”

  “Great, the last thing she needs is to have everything torn apart again.”

  Hesitating, Hanson added, “I haven’t pulled all the details on what happened.”

  “Oh, that’ll be fun for you then. There are plenty of details. It’ll take you a while.”

  “Do you want to give me the gist of it?”

  She frowned. “All I can give you is the company line, which is basically the family line. She was overworked and had a bit of a break.”

  “What kind of a break?”

  “I don’t know what you call it. She supposedly started talking to dead people in front of a family who was there to pick out a coffin. Tasmin had just come up from downstairs, as they were pulling out a coffin. They were trying to choose which one. The father wanted to go with one, while the mother wanted to go with another, and my lovely and helpful sister spoke up and declared that their daughter wanted the pink one.”

  He froze. “Did she say the daughter was talking to her?”

  “Oh, yeah, are you kidding? It ended up being quite a dramatic scenario. It was all we could do to separate her from them. At the time, the decedent’s family was both intrigued and upset, wanting to know if Tasmin was for real because some of the things she had said had been right on point.

  “However, nobody in our family really wanted it to be for real because that’s not the reputation we want as a business. Yet the grieving family wanted to come back the next day and talk to Tasmin about their daughter. She had died from leukemia, and some of the things Tasmin shared with them were so consistent with their daughter that they wanted a chance to touch base again.”

  “Of course that’s a real problem for anybody who can talk to the dead,” Hanson stated matter-of-factly.

  Silence followed on the other end for a moment. “You’re not thinking Tasmin was serious, are you?” Lorelei asked in disbelief.

  “I’m just saying that we’ve seen cases like this before. Time and time again actually.”

  “Yeah, of course you have, especially on full moons and Halloween.”

  He asked a few more questions and then one more. “Is that when she started her own business?”

  “No, we sent her off on a holiday and thought she would rest, but instead she just got weird for a while. So we kept her away from the business. With her out of the picture, the hubbub faded, and we got the business back on track. Eventually she came back but worked in the evenings, when nobody was around. She didn’t have anything to do with the public, so we could keep things calm and quiet.

  “Then, out of the blue, she started talking about setting this up. As I’m sure you can understand, my parents were horrified, but my father especially. It’s not the kind of thing that goes along well in this area, where most of the people have a staid background and traditional Catholic beliefs.”

  “And yet the people are already dead, so it’s not as if Tasmin’s torturing them or anything.”

  “No, but an awful lot of religions require that you must have all the body at the same time for a proper burial. Otherwise, for them, it’s not complete, and so this just goes against their beliefs.”

  “Sure, but that’s not everybody, and those people won’t be the ones who want something preserved, right?”

  “Maybe. Look. I’m not here to justify what Tasmin is or isn’t doing. You asked me questions. I gave you the answers. Now I need to get back to work.” And, with that, she hung up on him.

  He stared down at the phone in surprise. Something about this family continually surprised him, as if they didn’t seem to think they had to answer the questions he was asking. And maybe the questions were unusual, but the problems he had were unusual, as was the crime. He shook his head and got up to grab a cup of coffee, when he noted his coworkers, Mark and John, stood nearby, talking.

  Hanson walked over and asked, “Anything new?”

  Both men turned to him and shrugged. “Not on your case,” Mark replied, “but we’ve got a grave that’s been disturbed over on Main Street.”

  “At the big cemetery?” Hanson asked.

  Mark nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Any idea what’s up with that?”

  “No, we’ll go take a look. We thought we’d leave you to handle this one.”

  “Great, thanks,” Hanson muttered. “Hell, you never know. Maybe your disturbed grave is part of my case.”

  At that, they gave him shared solemn looks and shook their heads. “It better not be.”

  “I know, right? And we’re not even living in New Orleans.”

  “You used to work there, didn’t you?”

  “I did, and sometimes I think I should go back.”

  They nodded. “If you want to, whatever.”

  That just reinforced the idea that Hanson wasn’t welcome here or in New Orleans either. But then Hanson shouldn’t be upset by that; it had been a long time since he’d felt welcome anywhere.

  Ignoring them, he headed back to his desk and sat down to see what else he could dredge up on this case. Chances were, there wouldn’t be anything, not until he saw her at the morgue tomorrow morning. He double-checked to make sure that was set up, and it was, so it was good to go.

  With that, he headed back to his email and the never-ending work in front of him.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Tasmin headed to the shop. Her mother had agreed to step in and would be a warm body in the front, if anybody came in while Tasmin was gone. Otherwise she would have to just leave it closed, with a sign saying she would be back in a bit. But, as long as her mother was still prepared to come, Tasmin would leave as soon as her mother appeared. Tasmin was ready to head out and impatiently waited for her mother to arrive, when Tasmin’s phone rang.