Page 27 of Tempting Devil
“We like to make sure all our guests’ needs are taken care of while they’re with us.”
I made a show of examining both the family space as well as the viewing room before turning back to him. “May I see the preparation rooms?”
He hesitated, his fake smile faltering. “Those aren’t typically open to the public.”
“I understand, but my grandfather has been quite particular about his final wishes. I want to ensure they can be carried out with dignity.”
He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, stealing a discreet glance toward a door on the opposite side of the viewing room. I couldn’t lose him now. My plan hinged on him going along with my wishes.
“Otherwise, I’ll be on my way,” I said politely as I started toward the hallway.
“No need,” he responded quickly, stepping in front of me. “I’ve been in this business long enough to understand some people may have different requirements than others. I do have an open preparation room I can show you.”
My lips curved up in the corners. “I appreciate that.”
I followed him through the viewing room and toward the door he’d just glanced at. He input a code into a numbered lock, and the door buzzed open, revealing a stark, white corridor that felt more like a hospital than a funeral home.
My senses were on high alert as I tried to absorb each detail, everything about my surroundings so damn familiar. The hum of the air conditioning. The buzz from the fluorescent lights overhead. The smell of cleaning supplies. There was no doubt I’d been kept here all those years ago, especially when Brian brought me into one of the rooms, the aroma of antiseptic and bleach so strong I had to swallow down the bile rising in my throat.
I may not have had many clear memories of the time between Liam shooting me and waking up in a cold cell, but certain smells stayed with me.
And this smell would be permanently etched into my memory — an olfactory stamp that would never fade.
“As you can see, we keep our prep rooms clean and sanitized,” Brian’s voice sliced through my thoughts, his words dripping with faux professionalism. “When the deceased comes to us, we take care to remove all clothes and jewelry and return them to the family, ensuring everything is logged in and out. The last thing we want is for anything of importance to go missing.”
“Can you tell me a bit about the embalming process?” I asked in an effort to prevent myself from tackling him to the floor and beating him to death right now.
A gentle smile tugged on his lips. “That’s probably one of the most frequently asked questions. I assure you, it’s done with the utmost respect and dignity.”
“I don’t doubt that, but I was wondering if you could tell me what it entails. I’ve always been fascinated by this sort of thing, especially after reading a book about how they preserved Lincoln’s body.”
“Ah, yes. I hear that quite a lot. While the science has definitely improved since the Civil War, the concept is still the same, for the most part. I start by making a few incisions. One to the carotid artery and another to the jugular vein.” He gestured to the corresponding parts on his body. “A tube containing embalming fluid is placed by the carotid to pump the mixture through the body while the incision to the jugular acts as a drain, ridding the body of blood. After that, I embalm the cavity.”
“The cavity?”
“To preserve the organs. A small incision is placed just above the navel and I place a trocar inside the abdominal and thoracic cavities.”
“What’s a trocar?”
His smile widened as he headed toward a wall of cabinets on the far side of the room. After sliding open a drawer, he removed what was probably the longest needle I’d ever seen and handed it to me.
“This is a trocar.”
“Good thing they’re already dead, or you’d put them off needles for the rest of their lives,” I remarked as I studied the instrument with curiosity.
“I almost fainted the first time I used one in school, but I eventually learned to toughen up.”
“What do you use this for?” I returned it to him.
“To suction out any remaining blood or bodily fluids before delivering embalming fluid into the organs. After that, all incisions are closed up with sutures.”
I nodded, taking a moment to process everything in order to give off an interested impression. In reality, my mind swirled with thoughts of using the trocar on him and sucking all the blood out of his body as he begged for his life.
“My grandfather has mentioned a desire to be cremated instead of buried. Do you still recommend embalming?” I asked finally.
“Even if you decide to go with cremation, embalming helps preserve the body so it looks more…natural during the viewing.”
“So less like a corpse?”