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Sirens whined in the distance, and I had a bad feeling about room one. Stiva was on the other side of the lobby, yelling to his assistant to check the back rooms. He turned and looked at me,
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"It wasn't me!" I said. "I swear!"
He followed after the assistant, and the second he was out of sight I ran to room one and tried the door. The knob turned but the door wouldn't open, so I put my weight behind it and gave it a shove. The door flew open, and Briggs fell over backward.
"Shit," he said, "close the door, you big oaf."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm doing lookout for your grandma. What do you think I'm doing?"
At the other end of the room, Grandma had the lid up on Larry Lipinski. She was standing one foot on a folding chair, one foot on the edge of the casket, and she was taking pictures with a disposable camera.
"Grandma!"
"Boy," she said, "this guy don't look so good."
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"I gotta finish this roll out. I hate when there's pictures left over."
I ran down the aisle between the folding chairs. "You can't do this!"
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