Christmas Corpse Caper by Lois Lavrisa Page A

Mason, Donna Shea, Nancy Remler and Charles Cory. With your very insightful and useful feedback on my stories, I know that they are much stronger and better because of you. I cannot thank all of you enough, my Savannah Pen & Ink group. And of course special thanks go to my final editor, formatter and much more, my dear husband Tom.
     
    However, my biggest gratitude is extended to you, my readers. Without you my stories would never be given life.  Thank you, enjo y  .

Novels by Lois Lavrisa
     
     
    Liquid Lies
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Short Stories in Anthologies
     
     
    Eternal Spring
    Her short story titled “Picture not Perfect”
     
    WG2E Summer Fling
    Her short story titled “Turnabout Twist”
     
    Save Me, Santa
    Her short story titled “Christmas Corpse Caper”
     
    WG2E Spooky Shorts
    Her short story titled “Treat or Trick”
     

Dedication
     
    This story is dedicated to an incredibly brilliant, wonderful and generous friend who keeps me laughing and is one of my favorite people in the entire world- Patricia Mason. You are my muse, my brainstorming partner and idea generator. Plus my away from home fun loving travel buddy. I am honored to have you in my life. This story is for you.

Christmas Corpse Caper
     
     
    Walking into the back office at the Kincaid Funeral Home, I prepared to start my shift and found two of my co-workers, Kim and Joe, already there. Kim, the administrative assistant, sat at her desk and Joe lounged, smirking by the coffee machine on the credenza in the corner. Tonight—Christmas Eve—marked the halfway point of my apprenticeship at Kincaid’s, Round Lake Wisconsin’s oldest mortuary. Even though, technically, I got high scores as a mortician in training, I still felt like a failure. I’d definitely failed at fitting in, anyway. It didn’t help that I’d had a crush on Kim since we went to grade school together over a decade ago.
    Tonight I wanted to prove that I was a valuable part of the Kincaid team.
    “Hey, Mark, tonight is your six month anniversary with Kincaid, eh?” Kim said with a smile. I couldn’t help noticing how her shoulder length brown hair framed her heart-shaped face. She still had the cute, athletic build she had back in school, only now she stood five foot two inches.
    “Yes.” I plunked into a chair next to the receptionist desk. “And tonight I’ll get to work all my by lonesome for a little.”
    Kim opened her desk and rummaged in the contents. “Maybe you’ll need some protection. I have all sorts of self-defense stuff.” She pulled out brass knuckles and a can of Mace and then slid them across the desk to me. “One can never be too sure, you know.”
    “I think I’ll be fine tonight, but thanks for the offer,” I said.
    “Suit yourself.” She put her weapons back and slammed the drawer shut.
    “Maybe the ghosts of Christmas past will visit you tonight.” Joe punched my arm. He possessed fists the size of most people’s heads. Joe’s thick-as-a-trunk neck bulged over the top of his buttoned-up collar and his barrel-shaped chest strained against the shirt buttons. Besides being a former high school wrestler, Joe had been a bully. Well, still a bully. Now, instead of pounding guys into the wrestling mat, he pounds beers after work. “You’re not afraid are you, Moron Mark?”
    He could be such a jerk. “No. I’ll be fine.” My six-foot-tall, scrawny body hadn’t changed much since high school graduation four years ago. I looked practically the same, except with more facial hair. Red hair against my pale complexion seemed nearly transparent so it didn’t really count.
    At least Joe no longer threw me up against lockers. He just threw barbs at me these days. Thankfully, he stopped calling me the high school nickname he made up for me: ‘Ginger Gay Guy’. Maybe he’s smarter now.
    True, my hair was still a thick flop of bright red, thereby meriting the ‘ginger’ comments. But I didn’t deserve the gay comment, I love