Set against the backdrop of the 2020 Covid-19 outbreak, a young woman, Gravely Eaton, is stuck working at the family funeral home with a father she hates. The world is dying around her, but there seems no escape from her boring life with no friend...
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The three of us hurried across the street, dodging rush hour cars and trucks. Angry motorists honked at us. We found Justin sitting on the garage floor, just inside the open doors. He was pressing a clump of blood-stained tissues to his scalp and there was a lump on his forehead. Healy and I tended to Justin while the Hawaiian walked into the shadows at the back of the damp and musty coach house. Â
"It was a man, I think. He said the car belonged to him. Then he hit me and drove away in it," said our friend.
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From what I could piece together, our Justin had just returned with the Packard, fresh from the detailing shop. He parted the garage doors and drove the car inside without turning on the light. After he shut off the engine and got out of the car, somebody jumped him, knocking him to the cement floor. Justin didn't know how long he'd lain there unconscious, but when he came to, the hearse was gone. Luckily, he had my number on speed dial. Seeing the Packard was gone, Justin was most worried about having to explain to his cousin why he'd put the Uber plates on the old classic car. I calmed him, assuring I'd take the blame for that. It was at that moment, Justin realized his attacker had also made off with his brand-new cellphone. The poor guy said he'd be better off dead because his wife Indira was going to kill him anyway. Healy got Justin to his feet. I watched as they limped together across the street and into the front door of the funeral home.
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 A clatter of movement at the other end of the garage made me snap to attention. When I got back there, the Hawaiian was pushing aside a wooden crate - the type North American Burial used to ship new caskets to our funeral home. The box was blocking access to the paint-peeled door to the old washroom. The detective's hand tested the old brass doorknob, but it wouldn't move under his grip. There was a strong smell of rot coming from inside the toilet room and I thought the sewer must've backed up.
