Page 115 of XO Karma

Aster and I lock eyes, and I mouth, Crematorium?

Aster clears his throat. “Who owns the crematorium?”

A moment later, the contact says, “It’s some shell corporation. Onyx Ares Inc. But I can’t find anything further.”

“Okay, thanks.”

The line goes dead.

“Well, that explains how they got the body,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“The Westerfords clearly are involved or even own that shell corporation.”

“I guess it would be a pretty good way to get bodies no one is looking for. People deliver them for cremation, they send some random bag of ashes, and they have an unlimited supply of skeletons. I’m sure there are plenty of rich sickos who would pay top dollar for a real jeweled skeleton.”

“Gross.” I shudder. “Could be why the animals go for so much. To cover the price of the real pieces people are buying.”

“And if they want access to specific bodies…” Aster says, pointing to our deceased Brit on the board. “They can get them with no red tape.”

“You know…” I walk over to a bookshelf and grab the bejeweled skull I stole from Vetrel. “I think your theory regarding this being someone’s actual head might be dead on.” Rolling it over in my hands, avoiding the knife sticking out, I try to find any hint of if it’s real or fake, but it’s completely encased in gems. “How would we be able to tell?”

Aster extends a hand and takes the object from me. He glances into the eye and nose sockets. “We’re going to have to bust it to do a burn test on the exposed bone inside.”

“A burn test?”

“Yeah, if it’s real, it’ll just char a little and have a smell like burning meat or hair.”

My nose scrunches. “And if it’s fake?”

“It’ll likely melt and have a burnt rubber or plastic smell.”

“Well, I guess good thing Vetrel is dead so it doesn’t matter that I’m busting his million-dollar art piece.” Although I am a bit concerned the creep might haunt me, but it wouldn’t be the first time I dealt with ghosts from my past. “Do you think the stones are real?”

“Maybe, but I’d bet the value is in the body, not the bling.”

Aster walks out of the research room into the open basement, and I trail after him. He rummages around in a corner, and my eyes catch on the freezer. “Can I ask you something?”

He pauses, looking my way. “Yes?”

I gesture to the metal box. “You ever keep bodies in there?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying about wanting to know if someone has skeletons in their closet?”

“Pretty sure that’s a metaphor,” he says with a laugh.

“Well, I want to know if you’ve had bodies in your basement.”

“I try to avoid bringing victims here as often as possible. Evidence trails and all that.”

“That’s not a no.”

He cocks a brow. “Don’t you want to have plausible deniability?”

“You can tell me the truth,” I assure him. “I’d lie on a witness stand for you.” And for some insane reason, I mean it.