In Savannah there two things that get folks talking...weddings and funerals especially if bodies go missing and wedding plans get hijacked by everyone with an opinion
“If we lathered that coffin in Crisco and shoved like the dickens it’s still not going to fit in that trunk,” Mercedes said to me, the four of us staring at the end of the casket sticking out of the trunk of the Beemer.
Auntie Kiki had moved the car next to the delivery door at the House of Eternal Slumber so the Beemer was in the shadows and we wouldn’t have to roll the thing clear across the parking lot. “So what should we do now and we better think fast,” Mercedes said in a panicky voice.
“And I’ll park the Beemer in the garage and I can tell Putter that the car manual says BMWs need to rest every twenty-thousand miles. He’s a mighty fine cardio guy but not exactly a car expert.”
“You read a manual?” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Honey, if I add in that there’s pot roast for dinner the man will believe anything.”
Mercedes held the tarp in place while I wrapped the leash. KiKi added the scarf, a smile braking across her lips as we took a step back. “Looks good to me. You know, I think this is going to work just fine and dandy.”
“What’s going to work fine and dandy?” Police Detective Aldeen Ross wanted to know as she drew up beside Mercedes. KiKi grabbed my hand, I grabbed hers and the only thing that kept us from fainting dead away was Aldeen’s electric green nightshirt with I see guilty people on the front in day-glow pink. Neither of us wanted to miss that or the police car slippers strolling red and blue when she walked.
Hi, Reagan Summerside here. Have you ever stole/borrowed/hidden something? Okay maybe not a coffin but something? Leave an answer for a chance to win an audio copy of Lethal In Old Lace.