Page 23 of Scatter the Bones

Not until I know what the fuck he’s really doing here.

CHAPTER FOUR

Margot

Death doesn’t scare me.

Silence does.

Not the silence of the dead. Not the hush of the home I grew up in. Or the prep room where I prepare the dead for one last goodbye from their loved ones. I’m comfortable with all of those variations of silence.

It’s the silence from Jigsaw.

The kind that coils around my heart and whispers,he’s not coming back.

I thought we’d moved past whatever reservations he had about being in a relationship. We’ve said “I love you.” I’ve spent time with his motorcycle club and gotten along with almost everyone. Or so I thought.

So why did he bolt a few nights ago, muttering something about a work emergency, and disappear? No texts. No calls. Nothing.

I sent ahope everything’s okaytext the next morning.

The only thing keeping me from freaking out that my boyfriend’s dead in a ditch somewhere is the brief response he sent back—Busy but okay.

What does that even mean?

Should I send Shelby a text? Something casual?Hey, girl, I know we only send each other the occasional cat meme, but what’s up? Happen to know where my boyfriend is?

No. I shouldn’t do that. Should I?

She’s engaged to Jigsaw’s best friend, so she might know what’s going on. Or would contacting her cross a line into psycho girlfriend territory?

Does it matter? I’m actually worried about him.

“Margot?” My father taps his knuckles against the closed door and pushes it open. “We’ve got a pickup. At the Briarwood Home.”

I spin in my desk chair to face him. “Now?”

“Yes. A Mrs. Beckett. Nursing said she passed this afternoon.” He leans against the frame. “The family wants a quick turnaround. I know you’re busy with Mr. Hall’s arrangements but?—”

“No, I’ll handle it.” I’ll have to obsess about Jigsaw later.

“Paul will go with you.” He gestures toward the hallway. “I’m still working on?—”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

Death doesn’t care about my love life.

“Speaking of Mr. Hall,” my father says. “Now that we have another event to plan—although I suspect this one will have far less fanfare than the biker’s—would you mind checking to see if April has some availability this week? We could use an extra set of hands. And I’d rather give your friend the work before calling in someone else.”

“Sure. I’ll reach out to her.”

I hurry upstairs and change into something more comfortable, but still professional, for a body removal. Stretchy black pants and a black knit top with a dark floral pattern. My goal is to blend in. Once we’re there, I’ll slip into my protective gear.

Paul’s waiting downstairs in a full suit and tie. Neat and polished as always. “Ready?” He holds up the van keys and jingles them in my direction. “I’ll drive.”

“Fine by me.” I eye his suit. “It’s after hours. You’re making me look underdressed.”

He chuckles. “To be honest, I just climbed into the same suit I wore for the Miller consultation this morning.”

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