"And did I say Macy called? I think she suspects something's up with her and Ciara. Maybe it's a gut feeling. Anyway, we need to discuss how we're going to handle that. We can't show up on her doorstep and announce . . ." A memory niggling at me again.
"I will refrain from telling you to take a minute," Gabriel said. "But I think you should. There's something there."
"I know," I muttered. "Follow the signs. Macy. Something about visiting her--Thanatochemistry. That book was on Macy's shelf, with her nursing texts." I did a quick search on my phone. "Thanatochemistry is mortuary science. I dreamed that Macy was going to embalm me, and Tristan was going to cut off my head."
"Your subconscious was linking the textbook to Ciara's embalming."
"But I'm sure they don't teach that in nursing school. Macy's records indicate she went straight from high school to college. Maybe she'd been interested in mortuary science? If so, I might find it online."
"I can't imagine you'd add that to a dating profile."
I sputtered. "I was referring to social media. Facebook, Twitter, and so on."
A slight curl of his lip. "Ah."
"Yes. I'm going to bet you don't have a Facebook page."
"My practice does, which Lydia maintains. We have Facebook and possibly MySpace."
"MySpace? It's 2012, Gabriel."
"Perhaps not MySpace. That's the one I recall from my college days."
"Never had a page then, either, did you?"
"Certainly not. It's a waste of time, and it's dangerous. I've only ever been on Facebook when gathering information to influence potential sources."
"Influence. I like that. So much nicer than blackmail. Back to the point, though. The actual purpose of Facebook is not to provide sources of potential influence, but to socialize. To talk to friends and to share things like hobbies and interests in hopes of finding new friends."
His look said he couldn't imagine the point. Whether he meant hobbies or friends, I don't know. Probably both.
"People talk about their interests online. Let's see if Macy ever mentioned dead people." I picked up my laptop. "Later, I'll set up a Twitter feed for the firm. Don't worry--I'll run it, too. Advertising tweets like: Gabriel Walsh, Attorney-at-Law. Finding the Saint in Satan's Saints. Or helpful tips like: Note to clients, quicklime is a preservative, not a corrosive."
He gave me a look.
"We'll work on it," I said.
"Work on that." He pointed at the laptop.
--
I'd gone through Macy's online presences before now, but briefly, as a way to get to know her before our meeting. I didn't find "embalming" in her list of Facebook interests or photos of amazing pre-funeral reconstruction work on her Pinterest account.
What I did find was more subtle. A tag on a friend's wall post from last Halloween. The friend had been dressing up as a zombie and tagged Macy, saying she should get Macy to help with the makeup because of "all that time she spent with dead people." Another friend asked what she meant, and the thread went on to joke about Macy hanging out at a local funeral home. Then Macy herself jumped in to snap that she hadn't been "hanging out." The conversation ended there.
I hadn't actually thought Macy did embalm Ciara, as I'd seen in my dream. If I had, I wouldn't have been joking with Gabriel about Facebook and Twitter. But now . . .
"That would mean she's not an innocent bystander," I said as I showed Gabriel the thread. "She didn't meet Tristan at a party. She may have actually killed Ciara. For what? To get her family back? Tristan tells Macy that she should be living Ciara's life, and she decides to . . . I can't fathom that. I just can't."
"As legal grounds for defense, it's so flimsy I wouldn't even attempt it. Diminished capacity would be the only way to play it. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness." He took my laptop. "Now, before we speculate any further, the comment mentions a funeral home on Lawrence Avenue. We'll start there."
--
There were three funeral parlors on Lawrence. I called the first. Someone picked up on the second ring.
"Walker Funeral Home," a man said. "Kendrick Walker speaking. How may I assist you?"
His voice was pleasant, sounding older than I'd expect from someone named Kendrick. Once I explained that I was checking a reference on Macy Shaw, though, his tone changed, becoming younger and brighter, as if throwing off his professional voice once he realized I wasn't a grieving relative.