My Dad, the Private Eye: The Falling Star

CHAPTER 14

Dad drove into the parking lot of the Carlisle Funeral Home, a two-story building that looked brand new but was probably forty years old. I've never been in a funeral home, but whenever we drive by one, I'm always impressed with how perfect everything looks from the outside. No matter what neighborhood they're in, funeral homes are always the nicest buildings on the block, always freshly painted and with really nice landscaping. It's like, people insist that when they go, they go out in style, but when they're still living, they don't really care if everybody sees them in sweat pants.

Dad straightened his suit which was really wrinkled from having just been pulled out of a suitcase. (He doesn't wear it much.) Taking a deep breath, readying himself to do some real undercover work, he stepped into the building. Clayton Carlisle, the owner of the place, greeted Dad at the door. He was this big burly guy in a really nice suit with not a thread out of place. I guess, when you deal with grieving people all day, you have to look just as well-tended as the building you work in. "You've made a wise decision allowing Carlisle Funeral Home to attend to your mother's... eternal rest," he said, doing that pause thing before "eternal rest" that people do to somehow cushion the blow when they're saying something unpleasant.

Dad did his best trying to pretend he was sad about his mother and all. "Thank you, Mr. Carlisle, but I haven't chosen her eternal resting place quite yet."

"Of course," Mr. Carlisle said in his super-soothing voice. "Well, allow me to show you around." They started to walk down the main hall. "Right here, we have one of our private viewing parlors..."

Dad looked into this really nice room with a lot of soft chairs and old-fashioned sideboards with flowers on them. "Yes, very nice. Very tasteful," Dad said, trying to hide his impatience. "But I'm really more concerned about how Mom will be treated. For example, could you show me where... my mother's body would be kept while being prepared for the service." See, this time Dad did that pause thing.

"She would be... in our care," Carlisle said.

"No doubt," Dad said. "But where exactly would you be... caring for her? In this building somewhere?"

Carlisle looked genuinely uncomfortable being forced to answer a direct question with a direct answer. "In the basement. Now, Mr. Lovejoy, perhaps we can proceed to the arrangement room to discuss options for the funeral service." The big man put a guiding hand on Dad's shoulder, and the two men walked back down the hall.

"You know, you've given me a lot to think about," Dad said. "I'll get back to you." Then he pulled away from Mr. Carlisle and headed for the front exit.

"I'll give you 10% off any premium casket!" Carlisle called after him, raising his voice just enough to still remain respectful of the dead bodies in the basement.

But Dad just slipped out, not giving an answer. Once outside, he wiped his forehead. Phew! Conning people was nerve-wracking.

But he couldn't just leave. He had to get back into the funeral home, but he had to do it on the sly this time. Fortunately, a funeral party started entering the building. Everybody was dressed in black, and they all had their heads down, some of them crying. So Dad did some fast thinking and slipped into the crowd. Back inside, he kept his head down too, trying to blend in with the others. He was worried since his rumpled grey suit didn't exactly fit in with the sea of black, but when the crowd passed by Mr. Carlisle's office, the big man didn't see Dad.

Down the hall, the mourners all filed into a large reception room, but Dad peeled off and hustled down the hallway, looking for the door to the basement. He tried one – it was locked. Getting nervous, he tried another and found a stairway. He scooted inside and rushed down the stairs.