Page 56 of Road Queens
There was even a little coffee table, which was oddly jarring because there were no magazines artfully fanned out on it. How could there be? If there was such a thing asMorgue WeeklyorCountry Morgue, with articles like “The Ten Best-Dressed Funeral Directors” and “Formaldehyde: The Ultimate Botox,” she didn’t want to read them. She couldn’t imagine anyone outside the profession who would.
Beane wasted no time bringing them to the back. She’d expected the place would look like a gigantic operating room and be chilly and reeking of cleaning products and corpses, and she wasn’t disappointed. At least no one (living or dead) was in the middle of an autopsy.
“Thanks for agreeing to have a look,” he said, pausing before a bank of drawers.
“We’d never turn down the opportunity to stare down a dead guy,” Sidney said straight faced. “Also, Amanda mentioned we’re done, right? She said something to that effect? Last night? About how we never needed to meet again? And we could be of no further help to your fakeinvestigation that no one asked you to undertake? Right? This sounds familiar to you? Yes?”
“Yes.” Beane flipped a couple of latches, yanked on the handle, and the dead, sheetless stranger rolled out. Not even a body bag. So ... yikes.
Amanda stared at the corpse, a tall man with a cleft chin, glaring gray eyes, and a mouth gaping in ... what? Horror? Shock? Midbite? Fish-belly white, limbs puffy and swollen. Chin-length, deep-black hair. And the stench wasn’t great, either, though it would have been worse without the body coolers.
At least it was on its back. Amanda had no interest in ogling the bullet wound in the back of the dead guy’s head. This must be Franklin Donahue.
Ha! Sucks to be Beane, because there’s no dramatic reveal here, just a stranger none of us—wait.
She held her breath and bent closer. Something about the chin ...
“Shit!”
Amanda thanked God the outburst had come from Sidney instead of Cass. She tried to speak and could only manage a minuscule croak. It felt like someone had reached down her throat, grabbed her stomach, and made a fist. She cleared her throat and tried again.Calm, calm, go for calm.“That’s not Franklin Donahue.”
Sidney was making a face like she smelled something bad. Probably because she did. They were probably all making that face. “It sure as shit isn’t.”
“It can’t be!” Amanda cried. “The hair and eye color are wrong.” But hadn’t she read somewhere that ...
“Yeah, but being in the water does that, I think. Especially if he was in the river for a few days. There’s no question. That’s Jonny Frank.” When they all looked at her, Cass shrugged. “What? It’s not incriminating to know who he is. I still didn’t kill him. I didn’t even know he was out.”
“None of us knew he was out.” Amanda stared hard at Beane, who returned her glare with a steady gaze.Oh, you sneaky POS. Later for you, pal. And later for me for falling for it. Again.
“No, I didn’t think you did,” Sean “Who Wants to Ogle a Corpse?” Beane replied. “It wasn’t in the papers. Not even his family knew he was—”
“Hekilledhis family—Debbie Frank,” Sidney snapped. “And got five years. Jesus fucking Christ with this system.”
“It sucks,” Cass agreed. “But if we start to talk about the inherent suckiness in our sucky system, we’ll be here for days, which will also suck. And we’ll all feel better for venting, but nothing will get done, and nothing will get done, and nothing will get done, because some shit never changes.”
Sidney found a thin smile from somewhere. “That’s the spirit. And like I said, this guy killed his family. His firstandsecond wives—Wanda and then poor Debbie. There wasn’t anyone to notify. No wonder we didn’t hear he was out.”
Killed his families, yes. That was Jonny Frank’s legacy. Killed his wives. Killed their friendship, decimated Operation Starfish. Blew up everyone’s lives, including his own.
Now dead on a slab and still causing trouble.
LOCAL WOMAN’S DEATH RULED ACCIDENTAL
The death of Wanda Garner has been ruled accidental, according to the coroner’s report released Friday.
Garner, 23, was found dead at the foot of a short staircase in her home. Cause of death was a fracture at the base of her skull and intracranial hemorrhage.
Foul play was initially suspected, but as the victim wasapparently alone, there were no witnesses, and police were unable to make any arrests.
Garner is survived by her husband, Jonny Frank, and her brother, Marcus Garner.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Didn’t think it was possible to bring the room downmore, but here we are,” Sidney observed. “In our defense, how could we have predicted that a field trip to the morgue would be such a downer?”
Cassandra was rubbing her temples. “This. Isn’t. Happening.”
“Feel free to kill Beane,” Sidney said. “Because how sneaky was this?”
