175663.fb2 Skull Moon - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 32

Skull Moon - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 32

10

The body was taken over to Wynona at the undertaking parlor in the back of a farm wagon. Wynona was her usual cadaverous self, not disappointed in the least that a new customer had arrived despite the hour.

Always room for one more, she was fond of saying.

"I seem to be seeing a lot of you, Sheriff," she said. "I never really thought I would until-"

"Shut up, Wynona," Lauters snapped.

"Ah, well," the undertaker said, pulling the tarp back from the ruin of Dewey Mayhew, "life goes on. Unfortunately." She smiled at her morbid joke as was her habit and gave the body a cursory examination. "And whatever did you get into?" she asked the cold, staring face. "Don't worry, I'll fix you up."

"You give me the willies, Wynona."

Wynona lifted one eyebrow. "Simply because they're dead doesn't mean they're not people, Sheriff. I'm sure they enjoy my chit-chat in their own way. People treat them like bags of meat, sides of beef. I treat them like people. I offer them the same social graces I would in life. Isn't it what you would want?"

"Just get on with it, you damn ghoul."

Wynona inspected the corpse with more attention now. Checking each wound and abrasion. She shrugged. "There's nothing I can tell that you don't already know, Sheriff."

"Which is?"

"This man has died from massive loss of blood. He appears to have been attacked by some sort of animal."

Wynona looked up as someone came in. The corners of her thin lips twisted up a bit in a smile. "Reverend Claussen," she said, expecting trouble and relishing the idea.

"In the flesh," Claussen said.

Lauters rubbed his eyes. He looked disgusted. "Evening, Reverend."

"But what sort of evening, Sheriff?" Claussen asked. He'd brought a crucifix and prayer book along with him. "An evening of murder and mayhem, I would think. An evening not fit for decent folk to walk the streets without fear for their lives-"

"That'll do, Reverend."

Wynona was still smiling, enjoying this exchange to no end. Carefully, she snipped the bloody garments away from the body.

Claussen held his prayer book over his heart. "Oh, dear Lord," he said, "an evil is amongst us. A savage and unholy beast. We pray for your guidance, for your deliverance from-"

"Oh shut the hell up," Lauters snapped.

Claussen looked as if he'd been slapped. "You, sir, are a heretic."

"No, I'm just dead tired and don't want hear any of that Jesus-crap right now."

"How dare you, sir!"

Wynona stopped snipping.

"You know where I'll be if you need me, Wynona," Lauters said, stomping off. "I better get out of here before I make the dear reverend here into another customer for you."

"At the jailhouse?" Wynona asked.

"No doubt the nearest tavern," Claussen said bitterly.

Lauters clenched his teeth. "Shut your goddamn mouth."

"Your words, sir, again fall on deaf ears. The Lord will protect me from violent men with weak minds."

But Lauters was already gone. Weak mind or not, there was a lot on it.