Page 20 of Bone’s Choice

He’d been standing a few feet away, talking to Breaker. His attention immediately shifted to us.

“You know about a return?” I asked.

Myth shook his head. “No.”

I looked back at Jackson. “What return?”

“Casket from Milwaukee.”

“Why?”

“They said damaged.”

“Who said?”

“The guys at the loading dock.”

I frowned. Grave Casket didn’t get many returns. Not because we were fucking perfect, though we were pretty damn close. If something left our shop damaged, somebody knew about it before it came back.

A funeral home called. The transfer dock called. Somebody called. Nobody just tossed one of our caskets onto a truck and sent it home without a word.

“Nobody contacted us.”

Jackson shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. It was sitting there when I got in. Guy told me it was coming back here.”

I looked toward Bull. “Anything come through?”

Bull shook his head. “No calls. No emails. Nothing about a return.”

I glanced at Myth again.

He was frowning now too. “Weird,” he muttered.

“Yeah.”

Not necessarily bad, but weird. Somebody could’ve dropped the ball. Wouldn’t be the first time.

The transfer yard in Milwaukee dealt with a shitload of freight every day. Caskets came through from us and plenty of other companies. One employee forgetting to send an email wasn’t exactly enough for me to sound an alarm.

I still didn’t like it, though.

“Let’s see it.”

Jackson walked to the back of the truck.

Myth and I followed.

Taco, naturally, followed us because he couldn’t stand knowing something was happening without being part of it.

Jackson grabbed the latch and opened the back. He rolled the door up, and the returned coffin sat closest to us.

I frowned. “Where’s the damage?”

Jackson shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

From where I stood, it looked fine.

Dark, polished wood with no obvious cracks. No smashed corner and nothing broken.