Chapter 31

Suzi left the hospital and dialed Tom’s number.

“Hey, Supergirl. What’s up?” he answered.

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You’re the closest thing that I’ve seen. What’s going on?”

She recounted the incident in the hospital elevator.

“Why are you calling me? Poodle is the one that will need to address that. Assault is a police matter. Even then, he might not be able to do anything about it.”

“I just wanted you guys to know in case you heard about it on the wire.”

“On the wire?” Tom asked, his voice raising an eyebrow.

“You know. Intel. Or whatever.”

Tom chuckled. “Ok, I’ll see what Alanna and Phin can find.”

“So, what did Kyle do last night?”

“Kyle? Kyle…. Kyle who?”

“Tom…” she sighed.

“Alright, alright. He ‘interrogated’ a certain person of interest last night. He doesn’t know anything.”

“Spenc…” she started.

“YES! Yup. Uh-huh.” He interrupted.

She quickly got the hint that she should not say his name, although she thought that might be a little paranoid. “Now what?”

“Anything your friends upstairs can do?”

“Zayne…” Suzi recalled her last conversation with Kariel about Spencer Isaacs when the conversation was abruptly cut short.

“Excuse me?”

“I might have something.”

“Who or what is Zayne?” Tom asked.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

She disconnected the line.

Suzi wasn’t sure how much time had passed during her conversations with angels in Guillermo, so her talk with Kariel would have to wait until after Devin Bowers’ service.

Arriving at Eternal Springs funeral home over an hour before the service, Suzi slipped in through the back entrance. She changed into her professional, muted-tone clothing and walked down the hall. Glancing at the board out of habit, she was pleasantly surprised to see a family had opted for aquamation services. While less expensive, it was a relatively new process compared to conventional cremation but took longer. Many families still favored standard cremation or burial. This family wanted a viewing before the aquamation process, scheduled for later Saturday afternoon. The young lady, who appeared to have died in a car accident, lay embalmed. Doyle would wait until Monday to proceed with the water cremation process.

She meandered to the front, relieved to find that Doyle had already set up the Bowers’ casket. He waited for the family and visitors to arrive. At least she managed to avoid his sleazy advances for now.

“Suzi!” A shrill girl’s voice cut through the air.

“Hi Jo. How are you?”

The little girl slammed into Suzi with a big hug. Her long, curly, auburn hair pushed into Suzi’s face.

Gracie Jo was an up-and-coming intern who was supposed to shadow Suzi, but recent events had put her in a bind. Jo was young, only 26, tiny, and full of energy. She weighed less than Rio, probably only a buck-twenty-five soaking wet, and barely stood five feet tall. Initially conservative in her looks, Jo had added a blond streak to her otherwise auburn, naturally curly hair. Suzi suspected Jo liked both men and women but never talked about long-term relationships. She was pretty sure Jo was still a virgin and lived with unsupportive parents. Jo had no tattoos, only pierced ears, but had mentioned wanting a nose piercing.

For the past six months, Jo had worked under Suzi, learning the ropes of standard funeral processes. She aspired to follow in Suzi’s footsteps as an End-of-Life Companion. Suzi had taken Jo along on visits to homes she regularly attended, encouraging her to spread her wings in the field.

The young woman released Suzi from her small, albeit mighty, embrace. “I’ve missed you!” she exclaimed.

“I’ve missed you too. Honestly, I’d rather have been here working with you than going through what I’ve experienced in the last couple of weeks,” Suzi replied.

They continued walking toward the front, Jo trailing behind. Suzi knew Doyle was aware of her presence now and would likely seek her out. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between them.

“Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry about Aiden,” Jo said sincerely.

Suzi swallowed, fighting back any visible emotion. “Not your fault. Don’t be sorry. How have things been here?”

“Not too bad. I’ve been learning from Doyle. He’s good, but he’s not you. You actually explain things when I have questions. He just looks at me like I’m a stupid kid.”

“I’ll be back Monday, maybe part-time. My life is a bit chaotic right now. But you’re almost graduated. You’ve got this. Specialty areas are all you need.”

Jo hesitated. “Speaking of which, I have a favor to ask.”

They stopped in the hall, just before the main lobby. Suzi looked at Jo sincerely.

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“Of course. If it’s within my power, I’ll do anything for you.”

She thought that this moment mirrored her relationship with Kariel, had she been asking for a favor from the angel.

“My finals are coming up. I have to do a reconstruction, and I really don’t want to do it the conventional way. Can you show me your method with the 3D printer?”

Tears of pride welled up in Suzi’s eyes. She pulled Jo close and hugged her. “Of course! I’d be happy to pass that on to you.”

“Thank you, Suzi. You’re a God-send.”

A chill ran down Suzi’s spine. She held Jo at arm’s length. “How much time do we have?”

“Just after the New Year, so about four weeks,” Jo replied.

“Perfect. I’ll talk to Nick. We can get reconstructions from his other funeral homes and request some from others in the area. You’ll have good experience to run solo by then.”

Jo’s smile lit up the room.

Doyle interrupted their moment, “How about a little nosh, ladies?”

“What do you mean?” Jo asked.

Suzi rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming.

“You know. A Doyle-meat sandwich, between two slices of hot, white bread.” Doyle slid between them, violating their personal space.

Naïve Jo still didn’t get it. “I’m not hungry, but what is ‘Doyle-meat’?” she asked.

“It’s nothing but a small, tiny piece of rancid, flaccid flesh that would probably make you sick just to see it, let alone let it near you,” Suzi explained.

Doyle’s smile vanished but quickly returned. “If you don’t like the meat, maybe you prefer a tuna taco?” he suggested, eyes flashing suggestively.

“I love fish tacos!” Jo said.

Suzi pulled Jo behind her, standing between her and Doyle. “Doyle, I don’t have the patience for you today. Please find something else to do.”

“I have an alphabetical list of things to do. I’m up to ‘T’. After that is…” he began.

Suzi pointed a finger at him. “So help me, if you finish that sentence…”

He smiled playfully but said nothing, turning to walk away.

Jo mused aloud, “When he said ‘Doyle-meat,’ was he talking about his thing? And we were the slices of hot bread?”

Suzi put her arm around Jo, leading her toward the lobby where Livi operated the main desk. “Don’t dwell on it, dear. It’s the stuff of nightmares.”

The hallway buzzed with hushed conversations as Suzi and Jo approached.

Livi, always eager to gossip, asked, “What are you girls talking about?”

Suzi’s head shook subtly; she had no interest in prolonging a conversation with Livi. But Jo, ever the sharer, leaned in and divulged her newfound knowledge.

“I think Doyle just asked us to have s-e-x with him,” Jo told her, with wide eyes as she spelled the word.

Livi’s response was not what Suzi expected. “Oh yeah? Are you going to? I hear he’s rich AF. His dad owns like a literal ton of properties and businesses.”

“No,” Suzi replied firmly. “No one is going to sleep with him.” She tugged Jo away, her mind racing. Who were these people?

“Where is Nick?” Suzi asked, her voice steady.

“He’s in his office talking to Eloy,” Livi informed them. “Probably asking Nicky for more money. He’s such a drain on him.”

Eloy—Nick’s eldest child, the only son. Suzi couldn’t help but notice the irony in Livi’s words, yet Livi failed to see the parallel.

“Can you let him know I’d like to talk to him when he is done please?” Suzi requested, her resolve unwavering.

“Yaas,” Livi drawled, spinning in her chair. She punched a button on the phone, summoning Nick.

Nick’s voice, calm but tinged with irritation, came through the line. “Yes?”

“Suzi is here and would like a moment of your time, sir,” Livi mimicked an official receptionist.

“Ok, it’ll be a minute,” Nick replied.

The office door swung open, revealing Eloy—tall, handsome, and burdened. His blue eyes held a hint of desperation. Suzi knew his backstory—the promising athlete whose career ended abruptly due to a field injury. He’d never enjoyed the death industry, a stark contrast to Nick’s profession. Eloy’s path diverged; he dropped out of college, becoming a venture capitalist and day trader. “Earns large and lives large,” he’d say.

“You don’t get it, Dad. It’s not a big deal. I’ll figure it out. Maybe Grandad will help.” Eloy quickly walked through the lobby to the front door. “Hey, Suz. I’m glad you're okay. See ya,” he said to her in passing.

“Son,” Nick called after Eloy, but the young man didn’t slow down. Disappointment etched Nick’s face.

He sighed and turned to Suzi and said. “It’s good to see you back at work. How is Aiden?”

“That’s something I needed to talk to you about,” Suzi said, her heart racing.

Nick gestured toward his office. “Come in.”

Gracie Jo hesitated. “Do I go? Or stay?”

Suzi squeezed Jo’s hand and pulled her along. “I won’t risk leaving you defenseless with Doyle and Livi.”

The air in Nick’s office hung heavy with unspoken tension. Suzi shifted in her seat, her gaze darting between the wedding photo of Nick and Livi and the faded image of Jatha, Gracie Lynn, and Eloy.

Nick’s red leather chair creaked as he settled into it, his expression guarded.

“What’s up?” His voice had already shifted, the warmth replaced by a businesslike tone.

“Aiden is in ICU,” Suzi began, her words measured. “He’ll be there for weeks, maybe longer.” She watched Nick’s face for any sign of emotion, but he remained stoic. “I can still work, but I might need some flexibility. Visiting hours, you know.”

Nick leaned back, fingers steepled. “Suzi. Most of us consider you the cornerstone of this place,” he said, his words subtly flattering. “As long as the incident from the other day doesn’t repeat, I’m fine with that. Family comes first.” His eyes flickered to the photo of Eloy, then back to Suzi. “Should I hire a temp to cover for you?”

Suzi hesitated. She wanted to carefully test the ice as she knew she was only an incident of losing her job. “Sort of,” she replied. “Give Jo more hours. She’s got finals coming up, and I want to train her on the 3D Reconstruction process.” She glanced at Gracie Jo, who sat beside her, eyes wide with anticipation.

Nick’s smile glowed, mirroring Gracie Jo’s. “I think that is an excellent idea.”

“We’ll need all the reconstructions from your other homes moved to this one. And other competing homes if you can make that happen. She only has four weeks and there is a lot to cover.”

“Consider it done,” he said. “And Suzi?” His voice softened. “Take care of yourself. We need you here.”

“Thank you, Nick,” Suzi and Jo chorused, their gratitude genuine.

Suzi rose, ready to leave Nick’s office.

“By the way,” Nick began, curiosity piqued, “do you mind if I ask what was in Mr. McGillicuddy’s estate?”

“Honestly, I haven’t been able to reach the lawyer, so I don’t know. John was peculiar—perhaps he left everything to me to distribute his final wishes and have the last word. He never really trusted lawyers. After Thursday’s incident, I thought letting the family cool off was best.”

“He left you everything?” Jo’s eyes widened.

Suzi smirked. “Everything of nothing is still nothing, Jo.”

“Have you met with the Bowers family yet? They were impressed with your reconstruction work. I told them you’re the best in the field.” Nick’s flattery flowed thickly.

“Not yet,” Suzi replied. “The service is about to start. I’ll help with it and meet with them today.”

They stepped out of Nick’s office, chatting in the lobby until The Bowers family—Donald and Francis—arrived. Devin’s parents, the reason Suzi had come to the office today, greeted Suzi.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bowers,” Suzi addressed them, her voice gentle. “May I offer my condolences for the loss of your son? My name is Suzi, and I worked on Devin’s reconstruction.”

Mrs. Bowers bypassed Suzi’s outstretched hand and hugged her tightly. Suzi reciprocated, but her warmth didn’t extend beyond the surface. Donald, standing behind his wife, rolled his eyes—a silent commentary on the emotional display.

“Thank you for giving him his dignity,” Francis whispered.

Suzi stepped back, maintaining a respectful distance. “I was happy to do it. Everyone deserves their dignity.”

Mr. Bowers shook her hand, his grip firm but his hands soft. “Remarkable work. Truly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a reconstruction that flawless before. He looks exactly as he did before.”

“Thank you,” Suzi replied modestly.

Donald, however, veered into unexpected territory. “Nick mentioned you’ve been specializing in reconstructions for a few years and are having trouble getting the process patented?”

Suzi hesitated. Discussing her professional challenges with a grieving customer felt awkward. “Um, yes.”

“Well,” Donald said, pulling out his wallet, “we don’t need to discuss that now.” He handed her a business card.

“Another fucking business card!” Judy sneered.

“Please call my office when you’d like to discuss this,” Donald continued. “I’d like to help.”

His smile held a hint of genuine kindness. Suzi glanced at the card—it read: Donald Bowers, Esq. Specializing in Patent Law.