Clayton perked up a bit. “Ransacked?”
“Yes indeed.” Will shoved half a pop tart into his mouth and kept talking. “And gueff wha wuz missngph?”
“All CDs and computer drives.” Clayton responding to what he was guessing Will was asking.
“Egphsctly.” Will guzzled a full glass of orange juice as he grabbed his keys from the dining room table. “Are you coming?”
“Sure sure. By the way, do you have a lint brush?”
“What. Are you saying I don’t clean very often?”
“Nah, I’d never suggest you cleaned, period.”
“The thanks I get, sharing my home and last two pop tarts.” Will looked around. “Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right. The lint brush is by the door.”
***
“I’m telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about Mister Pyb, Pyz, Pyr…”
“Pryblinski. Geoff Pryblinski. I know you handled the death certificate for Gerrard Dinkley, but you and I both know he isn’t dead.”
“Listen, I never met anyone. I was contacted a week ago and told I could make back everything I lost in the stock market if I fudged one death certificate.”
“So Gerrard hired you?”
“I don’t know who hired me. The certificate came in the mail. It was perfect. Whoever did it knew their forgeries. All I needed to do was sign it and fill out some paperwork that I claimed the body and had it cremated.”
“So you never saw a body come in.”
“Not one that matched the certificate. Next thing I know, I’ve got my money back and then some, and I decide to finally make my retirement official. What I don’t know, is how you know so much about this.”
“I’m just a concerned apartment manager, and right now I’m concerned about you.”
“Me? What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing. Frank, I’m concerned about the other people that are going to come looking for you.”
“Like who?’
“Like us.” Frank and Geoff looked up. Jeremiah and Jebediah stood across from them, their glares burning holes through Frank. The two sat across from them, and Jeremiah spoke again. “Geoff, you being here is a bit…unexpected. Maybe you’d care to tell us what Frank has told you so far.”
***
Phil’s right shoulder was throbbing. Bob was stacking another box onto their makeshift pyramid while Phil tried to rub some of the soreness out. “Well?” he asked as Bob sat down.
“I think it might be enough. How’s your shoulder?”
“I’m not going to lie. It’s been better.”
“Dude, you have full health coverage. I don’t know why you don’t get your rotator cuff and ligament fixed.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Reasons? What, are you worried you’ll start chasing your baseball dream again.”
Phil glared at Bob as he stood up. “My reasons are mine and mine alone. Quick trying to play Dr. fucking Phil with me Bob.”
“All I’m saying” Bob said as he stood up and moved back, “is that you might be in less pain if you went in and had your arm fixed.”
“My arm is fine. In fact, I’ll show you.” Phil took his jacket off and tossed it onto a nearby crate.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting a breath of fresh air” Phil said as he started working his way up the makeshift pyramid.
