03 Tilly by Frank Peretti

Author:Frank Peretti
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Christian
ISBN: 9781581345605
Publisher: Crossway
Published: 2003-07-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

As soon as Dan found the Bendix Brothers Funeral Home, he quickly recalled how many times he’d driven by it and never paid it much attention; it was just one of the many storefronts and businesses along this main arterial through town. Dan had envisioned something like the larger funeral home near the center of town, with the huge façade, high hedges, and white pillars. This little business was far less imposing; it was a low, cedar-sided building, with narrow, stained-glass windows and a simple, black-topped driveway lined with carefully pruned rose bushes. It looked more like a small community church than a funeral home. Dan actually felt a little relieved.

He stood at the front door for a moment. Do I knock or do I just go in? Finally he did both; he knocked lightly, then opened the door just a crack, knocked lightly again, then stuck his head in. Oh. This was just like the foyer of a church, and no one was around. He stepped inside and closed the door very quietly behind him. Through a wide double door he could see the small chapel, warm, serene, and inviting, but deserted.

At the left end of the foyer was an unmarked door, but it looked like an important door, so Dan went to it and knocked again.

A distinguished-looking older man opened the door.

“Oh, hello there,” the man said. “Are you Mr. Ross?”

He had to be the undertaker; his gentle and consoling manner must have come with that dark, pinstriped suit and those little wire-framed glasses.

“Yes. And are you the Mr. Bendix I spoke to on the phone?”

The little man flashed several gold fillings. “Ah yes, yes! Won’t you come in?”

Mr. Bendix swung the door widely open, almost with a flourish, and Dan passed through it feeling like an honored guest. He wondered if he would be so regarded when he left this place.

Bendix showed him into his neat little office, actually a little cubicle by the window. “Please have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

Dan didn’t really want any. “Oh yes, thank you.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Uh … black. Just black, please.”

Mr. Bendix poured the coffee from a little coffeemaker in the corner. “Now … you said something on the phone about a particular funeral we may have had … oh, what was it? Nine years ago?”

“Yes …” Dan took a cup from Mr. Bendix. “Thank you. I don’t know if you keep records that far back, but …” Dan knew he’d just have to take that big step. “I was wondering if you might recall a service for a very small infant.”

Mr. Bendix settled into his chair and reflected back over the years. He nodded his head sadly. “We have had a few of those. Those are particularly tragic, very difficult.”

Dan could feel the very thin ice under him, but he pressed on. “Well … I was thinking of a funeral that may have involved someone by the name of Mendoza. A woman named Mendoza.”

Bendix remembered. Dan could see it.

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