“On the count of three,” Clay told Harry as they both bent down and grabbed the body. “One. Two. And… up.”
Clay grunted as he took the weight. Alive, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but dead people were awkward bastards. He hung on as he backed out of the room and into the hall. He started to turn as he made it over the threshold.
“Other way,” Grade said as he waved his hand toward the kitchen. “Feet need to go up the stairs.”
The plastic made it hard to keep a good grip on the corpse. Clay clenched his teeth and hung on to it as he shifted direction. He backed up until Harry levered the dead body out through the door.
“Reminds me of Ezra’s wedding,” Clay said as he waited for Harry to adjust his grip.
Harry snorted as he glanced over his shoulder and then edged backward toward the front door.
“Reminds me of his divorce,” he said.
“Don’t drop it,” Grade instructed as they got to the foot of the stairs. Clay took a couple of steps up, cautiously and backward, as Harry lowered the other end of the body to the floor. “Set it down gently.”
Clay raised his eyebrows at Harry, who laughed. “OK. You win,” he said. “Wedding.”
Grade stepped around Harry and crouched next to the body. He used a pocket knife to cut neatly through the outer layer of plastic and tape. Then he peeled the rest away like a shell until they could see the dead woman again.
“Lift her up,” he said.
They did, and he dragged the cut-up sheets out from under her. He folded them fastidiously and set them aside as they lowered her back down.
“So how the fuck does Ezra know Judge Parker, anyhow?” Harry asked as he backed away. “Doesn’t seem like a match made in heaven.”
Clay leaned on the banister and answered absently while he watched Grade work. “Her grandson and Ally go to ballet class together.”
Grade positioned the woman’s body impersonally. He hung the shoe at the exact, precarious angle off her toes. Or close enough to fool Clay.
“What? Seriously?” Harry asked.
“Sure,” Clay said as he looked up at Harry. He held it for a second and then snorted. “Of course they fucking don’t. The Catfish Mafia have their hooks into Judge Parker, and they didn’t want her big announcement to go ahead without reminding her of that fact.”
Harry snorted as he looked down at the dead woman, her hair flicked out so it fanned around her face.
“That ain’t gonna slip her mind for a while,” he said. “Not after they got this mess cleaned up for her.”
Yeah. Things were a bit more complicated than that, of course, but… Yeah.
“She’ll be so far in someone’s pocket that she could scratch his balls,” Clay said as he pushed himself up straight. He cracked his neck and felt the release of pressure all the way up into the back of his head. “Is that it, Grade? I’ve still got a shit party to attend.”
Grade shook a sliver of something pink out of a baggie onto the stairs. It was probably better not to ask what.
“I’m nearly done here,” he said as he scrambled to his feet. “But I’ll need to get the Lexus before you go back.”
Clay nodded. He’d expected that. “It’s waiting for you. Don’t say I never give you anything good.”
That made Grade’s detached composure slip as he grinned, quick and crookedly wicked.
“Does that mean you’re reneging on the other thing you were going to give me?” he asked.
Clay braced his hands on both railings and boosted himself up so he could swing himself over the dead woman. He hit his mark in the hallway and nudged his shoulder against Grade on the way by.
“You mean my cock?” he said as he leaned in closer to Grade’s ear. He could smell unexpectedly floral shampoo under the bleach and antiseptic scent that clung to Grade like aftershave. “Don’t worry. I’ll even keep the suit on.”
The tops of Grade’s ears went pink as if someone had pinched them as he took a ragged breath. “Gloves too,” he said.
Clay paused for a second as his muscles tightened with the urge to grab Grade by the collar and just shove him back against the wall. He could almost feel Grade’s throat under his hand, the way it moved when he swallowed and tilted his head back to be kissed…
