The Mortician's Daughter

By Bryce Warren

A haunted funeral home? What secrets does the mortician's daughter hold? Who is the Covedale Body Snatcher? At Garrote Funeral Services (family-owned since 1845) things are not what they seem. Upon moving to Covedale, Kentucky, Kevin Due swears he sees a woman's corpse in the front window of the town's funeral parlor. When Kevin meets Charlotte Garrote, the mortician's gloomy but beautiful daughter, the two teens vow to unveil the ghoulish underpinnings of an eerie river town where no one trusts anybody.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387375332

Book preview

The Mortician's Daughter

The Mortician’s Daughter

Bryce Warren

2011

THIS IS A BRYCE WARREN BOOK

Copyright © 2011 by Bryce Warren

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

Printed in the United States of America

www.lulu.com

Cover design and photo by Bryce Warren

Author photo by Dolores Warren

ISBN 978-1-387-37533-2

First Edition

This book is for my sister, Kelly Warren

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank Dr. Michael Gieske for sharing his medical knowledge and expertise.  I would also like to thank Greg (Mel) Williams for sharing his funeral home knowledge and expertise.  Any errors are mine.  And finally, I would like to thank Richard and Scarlett Mowen (of Mowen Funeral Home, Inc., Owosso, MI) for sharing stories that kicked this novel into motion! 

Chapter 1

The first curious building Kevin spotted on his way into Covedale, Kentucky was the funeral home.  He concentrated on the sign out front:

GARROTE FUNERAL SERVICES

Family owned since 1845

Kevin strained his neck, following the sign as his dad drove past it.  Turning back toward the front of his family’s Olds ’88, Kevin could swear he glimpsed an old woman’s body in a casket propped up in the front parlor window like it was on display.

Dad! Kevin shouted.  Did you see that body in the window?

His heart pumped quickly in his chest. 

What window? his dad asked, looking back at Kevin in the rearview window.  Kevin’s mother chuckled in the front passenger seat.

At that funeral home! Kevin exclaimed.  I saw a body in an open casket.  It was like they were advertising death.

Both of his parents laughed, smiling at their son’s wild imagination.

I didn’t see anything in that window, his dad said.  How about you, honey?

Nope, his mom said curtly, just an empty window.

Kevin knew he had seen it.  They weren’t even looking, he thought.  They think I’m making it up, but I know what I saw.

The image stayed with him, the body in the casket in the front window of the funeral home.

Chapter 2

The image faded from his mind as they drove closer to their new home.  It was a two-story, brick house just blocks away from the funeral home.  Kevin looked up at the face of the building.  The bricks were red but in need of a fresh paint job. 

A calico cat walked past as they walked up the creaking, rickety steps to their new home.  The cat mewled as Kevin bent to pet it.

Be careful, Kevin, his mother said.  It could have rabies.

Kevin ignored her comment and held out his hand for the small calico to inspect and smell.  The cat found it agreeable, and rubbed the side of its head against Kevin’s hand.

We’re not taking it in, his mother said.  I’m allergic to cats.  You know that.

I know, Kevin said, wishing he could make this cat his own.

His father turned the key and the front door groaned in pain.

Could use some WD-40, his father said.

His mother gave his father a look that said she wondered when he’d ever get around to it.

They entered the house.  Kevin was anxious about his new surroundings.  Dread settled in his stomach as he looked around the inside of their new house.  It was hardly new.  It was more like a fixer-upper.  His father would be working on it throughout the year.  And he could already see his father promoting the idea that Kevin help out as much as possible.  That would kill any time he would have to himself.

Yeah, his father said, as if reading his mind.  It needs some work, but you’ll give me a helping hand.  Right, Kev?

Sure, Dad, Kevin spoke, reluctantly.

The upstairs made things all right again.  When his parents showed him to the room that would pretty much become his permanent abode, Kevin sighed in relief.  It was the largest bedroom he had ever seen.  It was not big by any standard, but compared to his last room, it was almost as large as a master bedroom. 

The ceiling of his room came to a point where the roof arched.  His was the only room upstairs, besides the bathroom which he would have all to himself.

Kevin liked the built-in bookshelf that ran against the long wall.  He would have to find more books to fill it up.

As he approached the lone window in his room, he saw a fire escape that attached to the side of the house. 

That’s comforting, he thought.  At least I’ll be safe if there’s a fire.  Hopefully, I’ll never need to use it.

After helping to move stuff in, and after a long, ice-cold shower, Kevin decided to take a walk around town.  He strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all of the new sites of Covedale.  The first thing he noticed was how old everything was.  Old buildings had been turned into small, mom-and-pop stores.  Historic buildings were restored and painted in bright colors, making them look ironically brand new and historic at the same time.  The nicest of these were mostly turned into law offices.  Others were developed into multiple apartment dwellings.

Walking just a block from his house, Kevin noticed people sitting on the porches of their houses.  They were dressed in old, shabby clothes.  They were the less fortunate of Covedale.  He tried not to stare.  He didn’t look down upon them.  They simply experienced a different set of circumstances in life than he did.  However, he could not help but notice that they were different.

A teenage girl, about fifteen years old, held a dirty baby on her lap while sitting on the front porch swing.  Dark circles around her eyes made her appear world weary and angry.  Her mouth turned sharply downward.  Flies flitted around her head.  Her hair hung in long, thin oily straggles.  She stared intensely at Kevin.  She followed him with her eyes until he was out of range.

Kevin was not afraid.  He figured that he would just have to get used to the differences between suburb and town life.

Something must have drawn him directly back to the Garrote Funeral Home.  Maybe it was the body propped up in a casket in the front window.

But it was no longer there.  Through the window, all he could see was the front parlor.  He saw an antique, high-backed chair, a small brown coffee table and an antique love seat with an ornate pattern of flowers and tangled vines.

Steps in front of the funeral home led to the front door.  A red carpet was nailed into place permanently over the steps.  Kevin realized he was spending an awful long time casing the front of the funeral home and decided he better move on. 

As he turned to go, he thought he saw a young girl about his age standing in the funeral parlor window, staring directly at him.  He turned to see if she was getting a good look at him, but no one was there.  The window was empty again.

Further along his walk, Kevin came upon the town cemetery.  A black wrought-iron fence towered skyward from tall cement walls at the highest edge of a steep hill.  The cemetery rose above street level, but a paved entrance lead up an incline to the front of it. 

Kevin walked up past the massive open gates, walking toward a circle at the end of the main part of the driveway.  In the circle was a small building that looked like a tiny mausoleum.  Out past the building were the rows and rows of various shapes and sizes of headstones.

He scanned the graveyard, taking in the small, box-shaped stones to the various monuments that filled up the grounds.  He saw many large cross monuments and a few melancholy angels, bent over as though burdened by unbearable mourning.  As he walked back further, he saw a monument of the Virgin Mary that was taller than he was.

When he turned back to head home, he saw the sun setting over the hill.  He would have to get back before it got dark.  I’m not afraid of the dark, he told himself.  I just don’t want to get lost, because I’m in unfamiliar territory.

As he rounded the corner of the cemetery, Kevin heard a large scraping sound.  He stopped in his tracks and listened.  He didn’t want to, but he finally turned and peered around the corner to see what had happened. 

A man dressed in dark, worn clothes was setting a wheelbarrow upright and then throwing some tools into it one at a time.  This had been the source of the noise.  Kevin laughed at himself for feeling so overanxious.  Why are cemeteries always so creepy? he wondered.

For the first time, he noticed a chalk drawing on the sidewalk to the left of the cemetery gates.  The design was too intricate to be a child’s drawing, but the chalk made it appear, at first glance, to be the work of a child.

The chalk drawing looked like a symbol of some sort, or perhaps directions written out in code.  He noted the arrow on the end of one extended line, pointing away from the drawing and away from the cemetery.  At the end of other lines were small asterisks which looked like stars.

Interesting, Kevin mused.  I wonder what that’s all about.

He was aware of occult symbols from various rock bands’ album cover art, but this was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

The town grew dark very quickly.  Once he was near the funeral home, twilight made it appear to jut out from a purple hue, giving it a strangely romantic aura.

The front parlor’s heavy, dark green curtains were drawn.  Nearly invisible paisley patterns swept across the drapes.  Large folds in the drapery fell from the ceiling to the floor.

Kevin saw another chalk drawing at the foot of the steps.  This one contained a crescent moon with a full five-pointed star facing the street.  This design was etched in bright neon pink that seemed to glow in the dark.

Outside his new house, Kevin saw a movement in the bushes below the front window.  Darkness had taken over, and his eyes were still adjusting to the night.  Something seemed to crawl through the bushes as leaves made the sound of paper being crumpled.

Then he heard the telltale mewling.

Here, Kitty, Kevin sang in his high-pitched, baby-talk voice saved just for cats.  C’mere, Kitty!

He made quick kissing sounds with his lips and heard the cat meow again.  Its head poked out of the bushes.

It was the calico he’d seen earlier.  He tried patting his leg, snapping his fingers, calling and calling for it, but nothing worked.  The stray mewled like it was saying, I want to come to you and let you pet me, but I’m afraid.  At least that’s what Kevin thought.

Suddenly, it shot from the bushes, crossing the street and disappearing around the corner.  Just before it turned the corner, though, it hesitated, turned and looked back at Kevin.  Its eyes were that freaky luminescent color that animals’ eyes become in the dark.  Then the eyes winked out and the cat was gone.

Upstairs in his room, Kevin looked at all the unpacked boxes.  He felt a twinge of pain at missing his old home and his old friends.  He thought he might be able to make friends with that calico cat if he could just get it to trust him.  He would have to try feeding it next time.  That was sure to win the cat over.

He turned out the light in his room.  The boxes loomed in the darkness like black, heavy monuments.  He shut his eyes to keep them out of sight.  Then the image of the girl in the window entered his mind.  She was young and pretty.  Though he couldn’t really see her face, the image of her dark eyes reminded him that she was pretty.  Her dark eyes told him that she must, in fact, be beautiful.

Chapter 3

Kevin spent the next day unpacking the boxes that had childishly frightened him.  He found that he had finished unpacking much quicker than he thought it would take.  So, he spent most of the day helping his parents in the kitchen and the living room.

When they had finished, Kevin’s mother told him about the Covedale Public Library.  It was two blocks south of their house.  Kevin asked if he could take a break and go check it out.

Okay, Kevin, she said.  "You’ve really helped us a lot.  I think you deserve