“I’m trying to reach Wes, but he’s not answering his phone.” “I’m sorry, but I don’t know where he is.” The young man emitted a groan and she pictured him hitting himself on the head. “We’re really shorthanded at the morgue. I’m on a commercial pickup now, but I have a residential job after this one, and those are the ones my uncle says I suck at. Can you try to find Wes for me?” Carlotta pursed her mouth and glanced across the patio to Hannah, who looked bored to death. “My friend Hannah and I could give you a hand.” From the silence on the other end, she could tel that wasn’t Kendall’s first—or second—choice. “Or not,” she sang. “You probably have other experienced body movers who are available at a moment’s notice.” Kendall sighed. “Okay. I’l meet you there.” He gave her an address in west Atlanta. “It’s a blue house. Iffen you get there first, tel my uncle I’m on my way.” Hannah needed no coaxing. They were out of their suits and into dry clothes in a matter of minutes.
