"If you'd woken up at your usual time, you wouldn't have seen him at all. We just needed a quick place to put him while we tended to some other things. I'm really glad Eve put that tile floor in. It makes cleanup a lot easier."
"So what you're saying is if I hadn't had insomnia I'd have never known the difference."
"Pretty much. You're a creature of habit. We can set our clocks by you for the most part. We had a small setback while we were out, and time wasn't on our side. It was a simple race against the clock."
"So y'all frequently use company equipment to joyride and pick up random bodies while I'm sleeping?" Her temper was on the edge of the boiling point.
"Not random," he said.
"If you hadn't showed up when you did, he could've killed me."
"If you'd stayed asleep until seven, you'd have never been in danger."
"So this is my fault?" she asked incredulously.
"More or less."
"You must be out of your damned mind."
"I wouldn't have let him hurt you," he said, shrugging.
"How would you have stopped him? It was just chance that you happened to walk by."
"I never do anything by chance."
"You are the most maddening man I've ever met in my whole life."
"Thank you," he said, nodding.
"It wasn't a compliment!" She paced back and forth along the side of the body. "I'm the person responsible for anything that happens with the funeral home. Did you kidnap this man? Are the police going to be banging down the door looking for him? I deserve an explanation."
He stared at her a few seconds, his face set in determined lines. She wouldn't be intimidated by his size, and she wouldn't back down.
"No," he said after a moment of silence, and turned around and walked out of the embalming room.
Her mouth hung open in a surprised O, and then her brain processed his rudeness and she ran after him.
"What do you mean, no? You can't just say no. That's ridiculous." He was already to the other end of the hall. "Good grief," she muttered under her breath and sprinted after him. "He's like a damned gazelle."
"My hearing is excellent," he said.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with that guy?" she asked. "I've got a body to prep today."
"He'll be out of your way in the next couple of hours. Don't worry about it."
"Oh, sure. No problem. I'll completely ignore the hulking guy on my table. I'll just put Mrs. Schriever right on top of him while I get the liver spots off her face. My mother is going to have a cow."
He stopped in his tracks at that, and she ran right smack into his back with an mmmph. "Your mother is coming today?" he asked.
"She's doing Mrs. Schriever's hair. Why?"
"No reason. I'll warn Dante. She bit him once."
Tess pursed her lips tightly. "She has a fondness for British men. I guess she couldn't help herself."
Deacon's lips twitched and he moved forward, but she rushed in front of him. "I'm serious, Deacon. I need to know what's going on here. I'm not stupid. I've got eyes and ears. This was supposed to be my funeral home. I've put blood, sweat, and tears into this place for a long time. But then you guys move in and all of a sudden there's a room I can't access inside the casket showroom and the carriage house is protected like Fort Knox." He shook his head like he was going to deny it, but she cut him off before he could speak. "Do me a favor and don't lie to me. I'd rather you ignore my questions than lie."
His lips pinched together, but he eventually nodded. He didn't deny or confirm her accusation of the hidden room.
"My grandmother's ring got stuck in one of the memory compartments on one of the caskets, and I was on the floor trying to get it unstuck. Axel didn't notice me when he came in and went to the back wall with the three stacked caskets. I couldn't see what he did to open it, but the wall slid open. I've known about it almost since the beginning."
"Interesting," Deacon said. "I'd really love to talk, but I need to get a couple hours of sleep before our new friend wakes up. He's going to take a lot of energy to deal with. Just let him sleep it off and stay out of his way."
"Yebat', chto," she said.
In loose translation, it meant something along the lines of "Fuck that." Her grandmother had taught her all the really important sayings before she'd started school. She'd been the only kid in kindergarten who could call her teacher a Commie bastard and get away with it.