Dead Spaces: The Big Uneasy 2.0 by Pauline Baird Jones

Author:Pauline Baird Jones [Jones, Pauline Baird]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781942583028
Publisher: Pauline Baird Jones
Published: 2015-05-28T07:00:00+00:00

Nine

“What?”

Dunstead heard her shriek through the walls. Might have heard it in Mississippi. Didn’t know the old broad had it in her. Alone in the room next to hers, he allowed himself a grim smile. Thought she was playing him like old Miz St. Cyr had played him. She was wrong, but by time she realized it, he’d have what he wanted. And she’d pay for it. She’d pay for it all and give him his walking away money.

He moved closer. The more he knew, the better it was for him. She was hiding something. Her voice was quieter, as if she’d remembered, but stress and panic kept it shrill and penetrating.

“What do you mean—science? Harold didn’t care about science! He added and subtracted, he didn’t—exactly which organs did he donate to these grateful recipients? Problem? Of course not, it’s just such a shock. And his funeral—having it without his body makes me uncomfortable, Mr. Jensen. It’s a jazz funeral, too.”

Like that made a difference. Dunstead almost snorted. Women. There was a longer pause, but he heard her efforts to calm her breathing, even through the wall.

“I just think that is something you share with your wife. I don’t understand—distress me? Well, he was right about that. The thought of—”

Dunstead has a feeling she paused for a shudder for the lawyer?—he figured it must be the lawyer catching it—that he couldn’t see.

“—someone doing that to dear Harold, parceling him out like, well, a buffet or something. It’s very distressing. And knowing he’ll never be decently buried—I can’t imagine what he was thinking. Or what he was helped to think.”

That last comment held a chill that Dunstead was glad wasn’t directed at him. And confirmed his feeling that he shouldn’t trust the broad further than he could toss her. Wouldn’t be turning his back on her either. Oh no, he wouldn’t.

“I want to know who got Harold’s parts, Mr. Jensen—what do you mean it’s confidential? They know about Harold—oh. That’s confidential, too.” There was a pause. “I just have this fear I’ll be walking down the street and Harold’s eyes will look at me from some stranger. I don’t think I could bear that.”

Dunstead’s gaze narrowed. She hadn’t seemed that stupid to him. So what was it about the scattering of her husband’s parts that really bothered her?

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