"I hope this works out," she heard Owen mutter, his voice tense, as they climbed out and approached the building. She knew he felt just as nervous as she did.
She walked up the stairs and into the lobby. The place had a feeling of calm and quietness, with subdued lighting. The walls were decorated tastefully with photographs of landscapes and flowers, and there were a number of chairs and couches around the lobby.
There was a desk to the side, and behind it, May saw a young woman with short, dark hair, dressed in a conservative, cream-colored shirt.
The woman gave a pleasant and sympathetic smile as she saw May approach the desk.
"Can I help you?"
"We're police officers. We need to speak with Mr. Burgess urgently, in connection with a case," May said, showing her badge.
The woman looked briefly taken aback.
"A case?" she asked, sounding worried. ""I'm sorry, but he's not here. With his own family situation, and how busy this place has been, he's spent hardly any time in the office recently," the woman replied.
No wonder the place had been busier than usual, May thought, if the funeral director himself had been out, committing murders.
"Do you know where we can find him?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, I have no idea."
"Do you have a personal cellphone number for him?" May asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't possibly give that out. He always asks that queries are directed through the office, or using the business cellphone."
May decided that she was all out of patience with this woman, who was inadvertently shielding her boss and who was prioritizing company rules over the need to find a killer.
Suddenly angry, she leaned over the desk, frustration surging inside her, and it was only when she saw the woman flinch away from her that she realized she was actually intimidating her. May hadn’t thought that she, a humble deputy, could intimidate anyone. But this woman was now staring wide-eyed at her, with renewed respect in her eyes.
"We are not here on a social visit," she growled, realizing now with a flash of surprise that she was a lot more like Kerry than she'd ever thought she could be. "Lives are at stake. Solving a murder case takes priority over company rules. And as an officer of the law, I am giving you a direct request for information. Failure to comply with an officer of the law is a felony. You do know that, right?"
May watched a whole sequence of emotions flit over the woman's face. First anger, then uncertainty, and finally worry. She didn't want to be in trouble with her boss, that was clear. But she also didn't want to be in trouble with the police.
“I can give it to you. Of course, I can, but I would like to ask you, does this mean Mr. Burgess is in trouble?” she asked in a small voice.
"We are gathering information. We need to question him. We're not looking to incriminate anyone without proof," May said, carefully not answering the question directly.
The woman looked down at her computer screen, and May saw her hands shaking slightly. She was scared. May suddenly felt bad that she’d come across so strongly. Even though lives were at stake, she hated putting people in a difficult situation where they felt uneasy or afraid.
May watched the woman tap at her computer keyboard and then scribble down a number on a piece of paper.
“Thank you,” she said gently, wanting to reassure her again.
"I really hope he's not in any sort of trouble. I mean, he's such a good man. He's been through so much emotional trauma, and he's been really good to me," the woman said, handing the slip of paper to May. "Although, he has not been himself in the past couple of weeks. He’s been spending most of the time working from home. He set up a small home office and I’ve mostly been hearing from him via phone now. But that's natural, isn't it?"
"In what way has his behavior changed?" Owen asked.
Deciding that she'd come across as very hardcore so far, and that the receptionist might now be more willing to talk freely to Owen, May moved away, pretending to read the notices on the walls while her deputy spoke in a sympathetic voice to the receptionist.
"I'd really like to be able to tell you more, but he doesn't talk to me about it. He's been much more withdrawn, almost as if he's on another planet," the woman said, in a low voice. "And the weird thing is that every time someone dies, now, he speaks about their death just being part of the natural balance, that some people have to die accidentally and that living longer would be the real crime. I know it’s because he’s just had such a tragedy and he’s probably trying to explain it to himself as well, but it’s still noticeable to me."
"Is that so?" Owen asked, in tones of interested surprise. Meanwhile, May was feeling shivers chase themselves all the way up and down her spine. It was utterly clear to her that thiswas their killer. He had broken mentally, and although he tried to conceal his behavior, his thinking had clearly been noticeable to the staff who worked closely with him.
"I don't know why he's started thinking that way. But I'm sure it's just a coping mechanism. In any case, I'd rather you didn't mention it. I don't want him to think I spoke to you out of turn."
"I won't mention it," Owen promised. Then May heard him draw in a quick breath and wondered if he had thought of something else to ask.
"You wouldn’t know his shoe size, would you?"