Page 14 of Shenanigans

“Damned right I am, and the benefit gives you the perfect alibi. While the cops are looking for you in south Phoenix, we’ll be sipping champagne with the Chief of Police.” The hearse made a sharp left turn and came to a stop.

“I hate to ruin your perfect plan, but I don’t have a cocktail dress. I’m covered in chicken shit, and my deodorant failed about an hour ago.”

“Not a problem. You can shower off in the preparation room. Tammy is bringing the dress I bought you for your birthday and she’s giving you a makeover.”

I gasped in horror. Tammy was eighty, if she was a day, wore coke bottle glasses and she was the makeup artist for the dead. “Ah, thanks for the dress, but my birthday isn’t for another three months and I’m not dead.”

“I got the dress on sale. It’s perfect for you and don’t be such a wuss.” Jana slid the coffin out and opened the lid. “Once Tammy’s done with you, your own parents won’t even recognize you.”

I climbed out with Tinkerbell. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Tammy was a professional makeup artist in Hollywood,” Jana reassured me as she unlocked the back door to the mortuary.

About a hundred years ago. “Really. All I need is a little mascara and some lipstick.”

“You’re getting a makeover and a haircut,” Jana stated flatly as she opened the door.

Oh, hell no. Tammy wore an old-fashioned, blue beehive do. “Tammy’s not touching my hair.”

“Relax, I made an emergency call to Enrique.”

I heaved a sigh of relief and followed Jana down the hallway. “Okay. He’s really good.”

Janna added, “He’s even bringing a ribbon for Tinkerbell.”

Tinkerbell yipped.

“She wants to know what color,” I translated.

Jana laughed. “A fashion-conscious dog. It’s red.”

“Red,”I told the Yorkie.

Tinkerbell barked happily.

“Don’t tell me. Red is Tinkerbell’s favorite color?”

“It is.” We walked into the preparation room and I shivered. Damn, they had the air cranked down to sub-zero.

Tammy peered at us. “Perfect timing.” She rolled her cart of makeup closer to an embalming table. “I’m all set up.”

“I am not getting on that table,” I whispered to Jana.

Jana hurried over to her. “Tammy, I need you to do Kandi’s makeup. Not one of the departed. Remember?”

Tammy glared at her. “Of course, I remember. I ain’t senile you know.”

“No one said you were,” Jana replied quickly.

I choked back a laugh.

An elderly woman wearing a green silk nighty appeared in the room.“Can you help me? Please. I don’t know where I am.”

I waited for Jana to take charge of her, but she totally ignored the distraught woman.

The woman’s chin trembled, and tears ran down her face.“Can’t anyone help me?”

Jana was never this rude. Was she that upset with me? The big question was; where was the poor thing’s caregivers?

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