from her anyhow.â
Casey always had liked Louâs eclectic tastes and an energy for life as strong as Dadâs had been. When her marriage ended, Lou was one of the few people who hadnât said, âI never liked Greg.â In fact, he and Greg had been buddies until they got into a fight after Casey ended the marriage. Sheâd been too busy feeling sorry for herself to ask Lou why heâd sided with her. Now, it didnât seem important. She was just grateful for his friendship.
âMove it, Casey!â Wesley shouted.
âAll right, all right. Geez.â They didnât call him Rude Wesley Axelson for nothing. She started to jog. âLater, Lou.â
âIâm looking forward to it.â
She hurried up the steps.
âAbout bloody time.â Wesley started the bus.
âWould you relax. The dayâs barely started and youâre already grumpy.â
Wesley pulled away fast, forcing Casey to grab the pole behind his chair. She tapped his head with her clutch bag. âTry not to injure the team, Wes.â
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
When Casey returned to her apartment around lunchtime, she collapsed on the sofa. No one had tried to grab her clutch bag all morning, damn it. She would ride again from three to six. Afterward, sheâd visit more of Dadâs West Van neighbors and see if anyone had known him.
She looked up the funeral homeâs number and then dialed. âIâd like to speak to the director, please.â
âHeâs not available at the moment,â a woman replied. âMay I help you?â
âMy nameâs Casey Holland. Your funeral home handled arrangements for my fatherâs burial at Cedar Ridge Cemetery on March eleventh, three years ago. Only, his body showed up at the morgue yesterday.â
Her response took a few seconds. âLet me see if I can reach Mr. Nay.â
Mr. Nay came on the line and tried to sound like he had no food in his mouth. After highlighting events, Casey asked if an exhumation had been ordered. Nay reported that he hadnât been contacted by anyone, and as far as he knew Marcus Holland was still in plot 352.
âThen what should I do with the second Marcus Holland when his bodyâs released?â
âUh . . . well, let me consult with the morgue and our head office, and Iâll get back to you.â
Casey gave him her cell phone and landline numbers. She covered her face with her hands. It was all too weird. Twenty-four hours had passed since this ordeal began. In some ways she felt worse than she had yesterday. The thought of a second funeral made her cringe. The first one was bad enough, especially after some freak trashed Dadâs house, forcing the reception to move to Rhondaâs place. This time, no announcements would be made in the paper.
Casey felt a headache coming on. Before it got worse, she made a quick call to find out when Dadâs remains could be claimed. After a long wait and a couple of transfers, she learned that Mother, of all people, had asked to claim the body. Since Mother wasnât next of kin, Casey refused to give consent.
She wasnât too surprised that Mother hadnât tried to contact her about Dad. After all, Casey had made it clear that she didnât want any contact between them, and Mother hadnât come to the funeral three years ago. Why did she want his body now? What made her think she had any right to him?
Casey grabbed a teddy bear from her shelf and threw it across the room. Rhonda used to say it was better to lash out at stuffed animals than people. Soon all the bears were bouncing off the sofa, thumping against walls, or skidding along the floor. Adrenalin pumped with the ferocity that only criminals and her mother could bring on.
Caseyâs vision blurred and the throbbing in her head escalated. Damn. A migraine was coming. She didnât get them often, but the symptoms could be harsh.