Chương 2
The funeral attendant shouted for everyone to stand back, although he himself had stepped toward the coffin.
Thomas demanded that nobody touch anything.
A woman screamed that they needed a doctor.
Someone knocked over a standing floral arrangement, sending white lilies and water across the marble.
Daniel remained where he was.
Mina stared at him.
“Help me.”
He blinked.
“Daniel, help me open it.”
His hands began trembling.
Thomas caught his arm.
“No.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What?”
“Paramedics are coming.”
“She’s knocking.”
“You don’t know what that sound is.”
Another tap came from the coffin.
Thomas flinched.
Mina saw it.
So did Daniel.
“Get your hand off me,” Daniel said.
“Think.”
“I am thinking.”
“No, you’re panicking.”
“My wife is in there.”
Thomas lowered his voice.
“And if you damage the body—”
Daniel struck him.
It was not a dramatic punch.
It was short, clumsy, and badly aimed.
His fist caught Thomas high on the cheek, and both men looked surprised by it.
Thomas stumbled against a chair.
Daniel stared at his own hand for an instant before dropping beside Mina.
“What do I do?”
“Pull here.”
They worked at the fractured lid together.
The coffin had not been designed to be opened from the damaged section, and the locking hardware held.
Mina pulled until her injured thumb left red streaks across the white finish.
Daniel tried to force his fingers beneath the broken edge.
“Wait.”
He stood and looked for the axe.
“No.”
Mina caught his wrist.
“The blade could go through.”
He looked at her as if he had forgotten she existed.
Then he nodded.
The anger that had filled him minutes earlier was gone, replaced by something younger and more helpless.
“My phone,” he said.
“What?”
“My phone.”
He patted his jacket pockets twice before finding it.
His fingers failed the passcode on the first attempt.
“What are you doing?” Mina asked.
“Calling the funeral director.”
“He’s in the building.”
“I know.”
Daniel stopped.
For one strange second, Mina nearly laughed.
Not because anything was funny, but because his confusion was so completely Daniel that it broke through the terror.
Evelyn used to complain that her husband called people who were standing in the next room.
Daniel looked toward the attendant.
“Where is Mr. Salazar?”
“Getting the release tool.”
“What release tool?”
“For the lid.”
“Why didn’t you say that?”
“I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did, sir.”
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
The room smelled of crushed lilies and fresh-cut wood.
Mina sat back on her heels.
Her knee had begun to sting.
Across the marble, the axe lay among white fragments like an accusation.
Sirens were audible somewhere beyond the building now.
Daniel heard them and closed his eyes.
Thomas had moved several feet away.
One hand covered his reddening cheek.
He was not looking at Daniel.
He was looking at the coffin.
Mina followed his gaze.
There was something wrong with his expression.
Not grief.
Not shock.
Calculation.
She had seen that expression once before, two nights earlier, in the Mercer kitchen.
Thomas had been standing beside Evelyn’s medication drawer when Mina entered for a glass of water.
He had shut the drawer too quickly.
At the time, Mina had assumed he was searching for aspirin.
Now he noticed her watching him.
His face settled.
“What?” he said.
Mina said nothing.
The funeral room doors opened hard enough to strike the wall.
Mr. Salazar hurried in carrying a metal tool shaped like a long flat key.
Behind him came two paramedics with equipment bags and a police officer trying unsuccessfully to keep several mourners from following.
“Everybody back,” the officer said.
Nobody listened.
Mr. Salazar knelt beside the coffin.
His hands were steady, but his forehead shone with sweat.
“I need room.”
Mina moved.
Daniel did not.
“Sir.”
“That’s my wife.”
“And I need room to get to your wife.”
Daniel shifted backward.
The tool entered a concealed fitting beneath the damaged lid.
Mr. Salazar turned it.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
“What’s wrong?” Daniel asked.
“The impact may have bent the mechanism.”
“Then break it.”
“I’m trying not to injure her.”
The words silenced Daniel.
One paramedic crouched beside Mina.
“Did you hear a voice?”
“No.”
“Movement?”
“Knocking.”
“How many times?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was the deceased embalmed?”
Mina looked at Mr. Salazar.
His hands stopped.
The paramedic repeated the question.
Mr. Salazar swallowed.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The family declined.”
Thomas spoke from behind them.
“She had specific wishes.”
Daniel turned slowly.
“No, she didn’t.”
Thomas’s expression tightened.
“Yes, she did.”
“She never told me that.”
“You weren’t handling the arrangements.”
Daniel stood.
“Because you said you would take care of them.”
“I was trying to help you.”
The lock gave with a metallic snap.
Every voice in the room stopped.
Mr. Salazar lifted the damaged lid several inches.
One paramedic reached inside.
Then he went completely still.
His partner leaned closer.
“What?”
The first paramedic found Evelyn Mercer’s neck with two fingers.
Mina watched his face.
He looked at his partner.
“I have a pulse.”
For one second, Daniel did not react at all.
Then his knees struck the marble.
“What did you say?”
The paramedic was already working.
“Pulse is weak.”
His partner moved to the head of the coffin and leaned over Evelyn.
“Shallow respirations.”
“Get the stretcher in here.”
Mr. Salazar stepped backward so quickly that his heel caught a broken panel and sent it skidding beneath a row of chairs.
The police officer pushed both arms outward and finally managed to force the nearest mourners away.
“Everybody move back now.”
Daniel reached toward Evelyn.
The paramedic blocked him with one forearm.
“Sir, don’t touch her.”
“That’s my wife.”
“I know.”
“Then let me see her.”
“You can see her from there.”
Mina remained on the floor.
The sentence had changed the room, but her body had not caught up.
Her thumb still bled.
May you like
Her palms were streaked with white paint dust.
Inside the coffin, Evelyn’s face looked waxen and unfamiliar beneath the funeral makeup, yet the small movement at the base of her throat was unmistakable once Mina saw it.
