Kailyn Logan is an embalmer in Las Vegas, the gambling and entertainment capital of the world, who spends her days preparing the dead for the last leg of their journey through this life. Even though she loves her job, sheâs become disgruntled with it.
But sheâs about to discover that caring for the departed is simpler than wrestling with the living. Seeing an opportunity for something different when a long-time friend makes a chilling request for her help, she starts down a risky path that turns out to be very different from what she was expecting.
Helping her friend exposes Kailyn to a dangerous legion of men who would have no remorse for killing them if their business is compromised. Kailynâs personal and work life are turned upside down as she tries to play the odds and figure out who is on her side and who wants to kill her.
Kailyn Logan is an embalmer in Las Vegas, the gambling and entertainment capital of the world, who spends her days preparing the dead for the last leg of their journey through this life. Even though she loves her job, sheâs become disgruntled with it.
But sheâs about to discover that caring for the departed is simpler than wrestling with the living. Seeing an opportunity for something different when a long-time friend makes a chilling request for her help, she starts down a risky path that turns out to be very different from what she was expecting.
Helping her friend exposes Kailyn to a dangerous legion of men who would have no remorse for killing them if their business is compromised. Kailynâs personal and work life are turned upside down as she tries to play the odds and figure out who is on her side and who wants to kill her.
âI THINK I NEED YOURÂ help,â Todd said as Kailyn sat down across the table from him, coffee in hand.
âYou think you need my help? Do you mean you know you need my help, but youâre scared to ask me for it?â She smirked.
The Starbucks was busy for a Monday morning. Customers were no longer rushed commuters, grabbing their coffees to go on their way to work, but were rather relaxed freelancer-types, filling up the tables with their laptops and drinks in front of them. One woman wearing oversized headphones, the volume of what sounded like New Age jazz turned up high, worked her way between the tables to pick up her coffee and bumped Toddâs chair, moving on without an apology. He took a drink of his water and glared at her as she picked up her latte. Kailyn was glad he had only opted for water, as he seemed too amped and nervous to be drinking caffeine.
Kailyn and Todd were both thirty-two years old and had grown up together in Las Vegas, but that was where their similarities ended. Kailyn was tall, five feet ten, thin, strong, with shoulder-length auburn hair. Sheâd gone to college, graduated, found a promising career and had a full-time job. Todd was also tall, six feet one, but wiry, with next to no athletic prowess and thick wavy brown hair that seemed to have no specific style. Heâd gone to college, but only for a semester, followed by a few classes here and there. And no hint of a successful career.
âI know I need your help. You work with bodies, dead ones, right?â Todd said.
âRight. Thatâs a statement, though, one you already know the answer to. I work with bodies every day. Itâs my job. I embalm them. I put them back together. I get them ready for the funeral services.â Kailyn sat farther back in her chair, watching her friend through slightly closed eyes. His fingers drummed against the plastic water bottle, and she saw tiny droplets of condensation spraying out onto the table. Why was he so anxious? He was never typically like this. There was a light layer of sweat on his forehead that she hadnât seen. His thick, brown, wavy hair was disheveled and greasy, standing out and messy in several places. She was suddenly skeptical, with just a tinge of nervousness beginning to show its head. âAs I said, you know this already, so . . .â
Todd took another drink of water and blew out a breath of air. âIâve done something bad, and I was hoping you could, maybe, possibly, help me.â
Kailynâs head tilted to the side, her eyes closing ever so slightly more. Her back straightened against the wooden chair and her stomach muscles clenched. This was her âIâm not sure I like what Iâm about to hearâ face. Many an old boyfriend and coworker were very familiar with it.
âI killed somebody,â Todd said, putting his head into his hands, elbows resting on the table.
Kailyn closed her eyes entirely as she took in what Todd had just told her. She heard names being called, followed by their drink order. A partially full cup hit the floor a few tables over, and the chair squeaked as the cupâs owner stood up to try to rectify the situation. Kailyn felt her mouth open and close a few times like a guppy fish, trying to put together a sentence. She suddenly felt warmer. They were inside and the air conditioner was on, but the coffee shop felt more congested, more people. The door opened and the pleasant, Las Vegas spring air smelled like car exhaust drifting in from the parking lot. Her lungs took in the air and pushed it back out, faster than she wanted to in the middle of a Starbucks. She thought of all the homicide victims sheâd embalmed. They were always at the end of their journeys. Kailyn had never been at the beginning. She opened her eyes and saw Todd again. Yes, he looked more relaxed this time, but not like heâd been unburdened from a giant weight resting on his shoulders, like always happened on TV when you bared your soul. He ran his fingers through his hair, fixing some of the clumps, but pushing other pieces out of place.
âWhatâd you do, Todd?â Kailyn asked, concern filling her voice.
He lifted his head slightly, looking up at her, and whispered, âI killed my dad.â
Kailyn Logan and Todd Theow first met when they were in second grade, just after the school year started. She was standing on the playground at the edge of the blacktop asphalt, waiting for her friends to come and meet her after lunch. Sheâd made a game out of jumping off the asphalt onto the grass to avoid the heat coming off the pavement, pretending the asphalt was lava from a nearby volcano. Her jumps turned into twirling jumps, sending her favorite dress spinning, and her knees collapsed and fell forward onto the cool grass as she landed.
âLook at the little baby-kin playing all by herself. Donât you have any friends to play with?â Kailyn heard as she turned onto her back in the grass, looking around.
She tilted her head to her left and saw Cody Futwiler, a fourth grader, a few feet away from her. He had his arms crossed in some pseudo power stance, one foot in the grass, the other on the asphalt.
âIâm waiting for my friends. Iâm just playing until they get here. Leave me alone, Cody Futwiler,â Kailyn replied as she sat upright.
She watched the fourth grader and his two friends standing behind him as she tried getting to her feet. Sheâd reached out and put her left hand on the blacktop and snatched it back, the hot asphalt singeing her skin. She held it up to her mouth and blew on it as tears started rolling down her cheeks.
âDid little baby-kin burn herself too?â Cody jeered at her, his friends standing behind him laughing along nervously.
Kailyn stood up and started running back toward the school. The teachers were huddled in a circle like a brood of hens by the doors. They were prattling on and laughing, barely paying attention to the kids on the playground.
Sheâd hoped that Cody would have lost interest, but his longer fourth grader legs had followed her and cut the distance in half within a few steps. Kailyn felt his Converse shoe connect with her backside. The shove sent her off her path toward the school and to her left, off the asphalt, onto the dirt, and toward the merry-go-round. Her hands instinctively came up in front of her face, trying to ward off the impact as her momentum carried her toward the spinning ride. She quickly lost control of her balance and staggered into the merry-go-round. Her forehead smacked the steel deck of the equipment as she went down, the rest of her body following and striking the ground.
All she could hear as she lay there was the dull ringing in her ears. Where was she? She tasted dirt on her lips and her right hand closed around a clump of rocks and soil. Why am I lying on the ground? She felt a rock pressed against her stomach, but her head hurt too much to move. Kailyn put her hand to her forehead and felt a wetness. Looking at her hand, she saw blood covering the dirt on her fingers. As reality rushed back to her, young Kailyn screamed.
She turned her head toward the school and saw three of the teachersânot all six of them, thoughâturn their heads and react. She tilted her head the other way, but rather than seeing Cody Futwiler laughing triumphantly above her, he was lying on the asphalt, a few feet from her, face down, his nose smashed into the blacktop, and more blood running down the side of his face.
A hand grabbed her right arm and started pulling her up. She got her legs under her and stood up but was woozy. Teachers encircled her, and she felt a towel being held to her forehead. She tried looking around as she was helped inside the school, but all she saw was a commotion. Kids running around and teachers yelling.
âSheâs got a nasty cut to her forehead over her left eye,â the school nurse told her dad twenty minutes later when he came to pick her up. âItâs going to need a couple of stitches, which is more than I can do here, so youâll need to take her to the hospital to get that closed up. Itâll probably leave a scar, but it could have been a lot worse. Iâve cleaned up the other bumps and scrapes, but I think sheâll be just fine.â
âDo we know who did this to her?â Kailynâs dad asked as he kneeled in front of his daughter in his police uniform and assessed her injuries.
âWe do,â the nurse replied. âI canât disclose that to you, of course, and Iâm sorry. I can tell you, however, that he had to go to get some stitches himself, as another one of the students . . . well . . . belted him in the back of the head with a baseball bat after he knocked your daughter down.â
âWow, thatâs pretty intense for a kid,â her dad said, surprised. He turned to his daughter. âReady to go to the hospital and get stitched up?â
Kailyn nodded and took her dadâs hand as he led her into the hallway. As he signed a few forms, Kailyn leaned up against the wall. The cool tile on her back felt good.
Down the corridor, a young boy was sitting in a chair outside the school principalâs office. Todd, she thought his name was and he was in the other second-grade class. He sat in the chair, feet barely touching the ground, arms resting on his thighs, and his head down. Kailyn saw a few drops of blood on his pale arms.
âAre you ready to go, sweetie?â her dad came over and held out his hand to her.
She took his hand but turned and waved at Todd with her free hand as they walked toward the door. He lifted his head and gave her a faint wave in response.
âWas that the kid that knocked out the boy who pushed you down?â her dad asked as he followed his daughterâs gaze.
âYeah, I think so.â
âIf thatâs him, it sounds like you owe him a thank you then.âÂ
âYeah, I think I do,â Kailyn replied, and they stepped into the midday sun.
âYou what?â Kailyn said, barely above a whisper. âWhat did you do? Iâm not sure how to process this, Todd. And I sure as fuck donât want to hear what kind of help you want from me right here in the middle of Starbucks.â
Kailyn briefly considered getting up and storming out on her friend, but she didnât know what Toddâs reaction would be. Sheâd never thought Todd would be capable of doing anything like that. If heâd really killed him and she now knew, could she be next? Would he follow her out to the car, pull out a gun and shoot her, then himself, ending their morning coffee with a nicely wrapped up murder/suicide?
âOkay,â she stated again, more forcefully this time, but still quietly enough so other coffee enthusiasts wouldnât be quick to close their Instagram and call 911. âI want to hear what you have to say. So, relax. But not here.â She looked around at her fellow patrons, sipping their venti frappĂŠs and Americanos. âFollow me.â
Kailyn led Todd outside to the patio. It was warm already for a spring morning, and they found a table away from any potential eavesdroppers. Momentarily, they both watched a few other customers make their way in and out of the coffee shop. A group of middle-aged women in yoga pants sat down two tables away. A man attached his dogâs leash to the patioâs metal post and went inside. Kailyn felt like a criminal alreadyâor another potential victimâlooking over her shoulder, on edge, and she hadnât even done anything.
Considering the coast was as clear as it was going to get, it was time to spill. âOkay, tell me. All of it,â Kailyn demanded.
Todd fidgeted in his seat, running the tips of his fingers over his now-empty water bottle and looking at her, looking away, then back to her.
âCome on. You better have a good story for what happened. If you want any help at all, youâre going to have to tell me what happened. All the details, or Iâm gone.â
Best friends have proven to be precious beings in the lives of many people around the world. They are said to be chosen family. They are the guardians of secrets that some people would never utter to anyone else. They have put out fires before other people realised there was anything afoot. And many such friends have joked about taking a bullet for one another and readily helping bury bodies. But how far can one really go for this chosen family?
The truth is that being someone's best friend comes with great responsibility, being a ride or die can be a heavy burden, guarding secrets can be overwhelming, and holding down the fort as a freelance firefighter can be a dangerous role to play. But the esteem of being called a best friend requires being All In as Jeff Smith clearly illustrates in his book.
Kailyn Logan and Todd Theow have been friends since the second grade. Today, Kailyn is an embalmer and Todd is still finding his feet. While finding his feet, he seems to have stumbled upon a weapon and put it to some use. Now, can Kailyn put her skills to the test to rescue her friend? Does either one of them realise the depth of the grave that they have dug for themselves?
Vivid descriptive writing was at the core of this book so Smith really did illustrate with his words. At times, I found my body reacting to the disgust my mind conjured up when I read the detailed descriptions that were laid bare on the pages of this book. So be warned that there are gruesome descriptions violence and activity that fills these pages. Proceed at your own risk.
Other than the gory descriptions, this is a great story. The creativity is inspired. Characters involved in this story are complicated beings with many facets. Tremendous research is evident in the details of the events that took place. The story that is told is convoluted enough to give it some depth and make it memorable but not so much that it seem as if it lacks direction; Smith meticulously walked that tight rope.