Page 98 of Pretty Lies

SEVENTEEN

HORENSTEIN & SONS - Funeral and Cremation.

The only funeral home the Outfit ever cared to do business with when dealing with death for more than one reason. The family-owned operation not only took care of the families’ needs within the mob when someone met an unfortunate end, but they were also on call when, for whatever reason, someone higher up who could pay the fee needed to make a body disappear.

Many times, someone didn’t want a body to just … go away. Dead bodies usually came with messages, and the Outfit certainly liked to send those. Occasionally, however, a body needed to simply vanish and never be spoken of again.

Horenstein & Sons helped with that. Or their crematorium did.

The last time Cory visited the funeral home wasn’t to plan someone’s funeral. He accompanied his Uncle Theo and handled the ten-k—stacked in small bills—that Martin Horenstein demanded whenever they had a mess to clean.

Since today’s business had nothing to do with getting rid of a body that would cause them trouble, and everything to do with Della planning her brother’s funeral with her parents … well, Cory thought it was probably better if he stayed outside. They could handle their family business in private, and he didn’t need to pretend like only two months ago he spent an entire night sitting in the Horenstein crematorium watching a body burn.

A win-win, he thought.

As it was, his time was better spent outside where he could keep an eye on the streets. The wet smog lifting in the city was something he could do without, but it also couldn’t be helped this time of year when the cold mornings met the warmer afternoons. The constant whipping of the wind had Cory leaving his leather jacket at home, so he could wear something with a bit more thickness.

Besides, he highly doubted anyone would be causing a problem for the Costello family while they went through the motions of preparing their son for burial. There was a certain level of disrespect for that sort of thing, and even those with the worst of intentions tended to show some courtesy for a family in mourning. Especially for a mother.

Except the streets had been very quiet. That usually only meant one thing.

Speaking of mothers, though …

Cory pulled the last drag from his cigarette and tossed it to the ground as he pressed the home button on his phone to bring it to life. There, his mother’s last text waited for a reply. Exhaling the gray smoke to the sign overhead that spelled out the funeral home’s name in gold lettering on a black background, he replied to his ma’s question about the date for J’s funeral. If they’ve decided yet—don’t rush them or ask for me, Cory. I just want to put it on the calendar, she’d messaged.

Another day, and he might have chuckled. His mother, forever making sure she wasn’t an inconvenience to anyone else. Always supportive when she could be.

Looking like next Wednesday—eleven.

No wake, then, came her next reply.

“No wake,” he typed back. “Call you later.”

Her I love you response popped up soon after in a green chat bubble, and Cory shut down the screen before shoving the phone back into the pocket of his coat.

“Are you just … always around now?”

The random question had Cory lifting his head to find where it came from. Ten feet away, in leather knee-high boots and a jacket she cinched tight at the waist, Jennika watched Cory. Where had she even come from?

“Decided to come around, did you?” he asked.

She lifted one shoulder. Her appearance wasn’t missed. Still, he showed no concern that the woman’s pupils were pin-small, her hair was piled messy and high on the top of her head, and whatever remained of her makeup from the day—or night?—before was still smudged in one too many places. Calling her a mess might be too nice, but Cory opted not to say anything about it at all.

Better to let an issue fix itself, if it could.

His bead on Jennika came through when she went MIA. What else was he supposed to do? He did what he told Della he would—made sure the chick was okay, had someone get her home, and that was that. Anything after wasn’t his concern, and as far as he knew, Della needed to decide what she was going to do to handle her wayward friend.

The rest wasn’t up to him.

His hands were tied.

Jennika’s stare cut to him, and then the waiting doors behind him. “Well, she mentioned this morning when she texted where they were going to be. Figured, why not come around and see if anybody needs something, right? Like they did for me.”

Her sarcasm made sure that comment didn’t quite fly over Cory’s head. He knew for a fact Della had been concerned about her friend and tried to help as much as she could. Hence why he put a bead on her through his brother.

Nonetheless, if Jennika was in a mood, he wouldn’t entertain it. Cory wasn’t that kind of fool when it came to women, and he didn’t care much for this particular one in the first place.

“I’ll just … go in,” Jennika said, passing Cory without as much as a look over her shoulder.