Page 118 of A Wild Darkness

His words pique my interest. “Apparent?”

Noah pushes open the swinging double doors into the prep room. “Yeah, I guess the family is working with the police because they believe there might’ve been foul play.”

“Damn,” Kristine says.

The body lies on the table, a white sheet pulled up to his neck. Jake Hoover, a good-looking guy. I grab his medical chart hanging on the wall, and after a brief skim of the first few pages, I can see he was in good shape, healthy, and had no preexisting medical conditions.

“Is the report from the medical examiner in here?” I ask.

Noah leans in, flipping to the fourth page. “It’s here. But what I wanted to show you was something strange on his upper thigh,” he says, then lifts the sheet, exposing only his left leg.

My eyes find a small, shallow X carved into his skin.

My breath hitches. The Black Veil Society.

Which one of these bastards got to him? We just got back from California this morning! Unless it happened last week.

“When was his death?” I turn to Noah, my mind spinning.

Noah flips back to the first page of his chart. “Ten days ago.”

It happened before the trip to wine country. I need to speak with Sebastian.

Running a hand through my hair, I go through the possible scenarios about how this could have been missed. “And the ME didn’t note anything about these markings?”

Noah shakes his head. “They’re subtle, and if they already ruled it cardiac arrest and police didn’t suspect foul play, maybe they weren’t looking for anything? Which, you know, can happen. We’re all human.”

“Sure, yeah,” I dismiss. My mind is still racing.

“Let’s prepare the body as normal unless we get a different communication from the family or law enforcement,” I tell him. “It’s probably nothing.” The last thing Sebastian and I need is the police asking questions.

Noah nods. “Sounds good. Just thought I’d bring it to your attention.”

“You were right to, thank you.” I attempt a convincing smile, then take another glance at the young guy lying on my table. “I’m going to go back to my office to get some work done.”

I leave Noah and Kristine in the room and march down the hallway. Once I’m back in my office, I take a deep breath in, hold it for a moment, and then push it out, trying to calm myself.

My first thought is to tell Sebastian, but if it happened before we started taking them down, then he would be no different from the others I found. And there is nothing I can do about it now.

A weight presses down on my shoulders as I slide to the floor. Tucking my knees into my chest, I hide my face for a few moments to collect myself. If we had started working together sooner, Sebastian and I could have saved him.

Which member was it?

Once my head clears a bit, I walk to my desk to try to return to work as usual. I check the mortuary calendar, get a briefing from Kristine about the funeral she and Noah worked on independently—which went as well as I thought it would. Then, I answer any pressing emails and check a few items off my to-do list. But none of those mundane tasks bring me back to sanity again.

My eyes bounce around the familiar room that once brought me comfort until they land on one of the grave rubbings I’m most fond of. A smile breaks, and I’m taken back to the warm sunny day when I created that piece.

I need to go to the graveyard. Creating art might be the only way I can process how my life has been turned upside down. In my office, the sun peeks through dark clouds, giving me the short amount of clear weather I need before more rain moves in. The desk chair rolls back as soon as I close my laptop and stand up with haste. Grabbing my canvas bag filled with my supplies, I head for the door.

After I pop my head into Kristine’s office, I say a quick goodbye, and I’m on my way. When I reach the parking lot, I notice Sebastian’s car is gone. It throws me off for a moment, but he gave me a big speech about not leaving me alone. He’s probably not far.

I’m only going less than a mile down to the north side of the graveyard. I could probably walk through the dense forest, but I’m not feeling up for it right now.

Pulling out of the parking lot, I drive for about a minute and a half before I’m turning into an empty smaller lot. I reach into the back to grab my bag of supplies, then climb out. There’s a slight chill in the air, but I should have some time before the weather is no longer in my favor and the light mist turns into a downpour.

The beautiful Douglas fir trees hang low over the metal archway leading into the north side of the protected grounds. I have little time as always, but I’m hoping this time lets me detach because I know I need to.

Strolling between the rows of gravestones, I scan each one. Then I spot a small headstone hiding beneath long stalks of overgrown grass. Maybe poorly tended to.