Gluskin & Ichor Family Funeral Home

Part 5 (Along came a Scarecrow)

Wren awoke with a grinding pain in her lower back, probably not the best idea to sleep on that lopsided couch, she already felt grumpy, her brain had been wracking around possibilities all night of what had happened to her Mother and Mr.Ichor. A low and yet everpresent feeling of seething rage boiled in her gut, whatever had happened, her Dad wasn't back, and she wanted revenge, badly.

"Ngghh... Wren?" Hestia's, voice called out quietly, "Are you up already?" she asked groggily.

Wren flipped over to face her, shucking off the crappy blanket in the process, probably for the best if she were up early, she needed to get a head start in her investigations. She had slept in the clothes she wore the other day, a back turtleneck tucked into her blue jeans, a leather bomber jacket thrown over her shoulders to block out the cold.

A small knock echoed through the funeral home, what was somebody doing here this early? Had they missed a call last night, no, usually most calls were directed to Tammy, so what was this person doing on their front step?

"I'll get it," she stated.

Wren jumped off of the couch, practically sprinting for the front door, only to throw it open faster than intended, most likely implying annoyance.

"Well hello there!" A high yet raspy voice called out, turning to see a face that she did not recognize.

"And what do you want?" Wren asked, huffing out a response.

"Detective Sasha Egorov, "Scarecrow" if you feel up to it. I know what you're thinking, yes, Sasha is my birth name, I'm fresh off the boat Russian."

"I didn't ask, but go on," Wren responded, turning her attention fully onto him. "I asked what you wanted, not who you are."

"Well, for starters, Mr. Mad Dog finally off and left, huh?" He smiled.

Wren felt rage surge through her veins, her Father's disappearance was not a joke and wasn't going to be made out as one.

"Speak, what do you want? Don't lie to me Sasha." she fumed, gripping her fists inside her pockets.

"I'm here to help, you're not going to be able to solve the deaths of your Mother and coworker all by your lonesome?" he stated smugly, "Now are you?"

He was right, unfortunately, Wren wasn't going to admit it, but she couldn't possibly do it all by herself, chances are she'd need all the help she could get, and lucky for her, this was just what she needed.

Composing herself as best as possible, she sighed, making sure to put on a fake smile. She moved out of the blocked doorway, sweeping her arm to the side as to let him in.

"Come in, we'll talk inside." she ushered. Sasha stepped into the main area of the Funeral home, floorboards immediately squeaking as soon as he entered, he looked down at his feet. Grinning again.

"Man, how old is this place? Feels like if I shift my weight the whole place will collapse in on me, hehe." 

"Well," Wren chuckled. "Just never got around to replacing it, helps with the whole "Funeral Home" aesthetic, you know what I mean?" 

"No, no, I get it, I mean, this whole place screams creepy." he laughed, his head being thrown back in amusement.

Truthfully, the Funeral home was so busy that they rarely got the time to sit and remodel the place, but now that Maddox was gone, they were going to be less busy, he was the face of the Funeral home, meaning he practically advertised the place simply by existing. 

"Let me take you to the main office, it's just up the stairs." she motioned to the steep and creaky staircase, black wood staring back at Sasha with a foreboding feeling.

"Uh, sure." he followed behind Wren, the stairs creaking ominously behind him, a warning that they may break if he were to take one wrong step. "Yeah, kid, there's a reason I'm here, but I'll explain it later."

"You already told me, you're a detective, you're investigating my Dad's disappearance," she informed him, even though he already knew the reason he was there. "At least I hope that's what you meant."

"Yeah, uhm- more or less, I'll explain later kid, just take me to your office or whatever."

They made their way down the echoey hallway, Sasha's dress shoes tapping reverberating off of the walls. Wren, still being in her socks, hardly made a noise, though she had to be careful not to slide across the hardwood floors.

"Hestia, you awake?" Wren slowly pried the door open hinges squeaking loudly, "There's someone here for us."

Hestia was seated directly at the desk, facing away from the door and out of the nearby window, cold air and fog enrapturing her attention away from the obnoxious sounding door, she slowly turned to face both Wren and Sasha.

"What's up?" she asked, obviously she was deep in thought just seconds earlier. "Who's that?" she pointed at Sasha.

"Sasha Egorov, professional homicide detective, I'm here to help you figure out what happened to your pops kiddo," he stated, cold and sharp, this time, he wasn't messing around. "A friend of yours is waiting at the police station girls, come with me." 

"How can we know that we can trust you?" Hestia hesitated,  backing away from Sasha "I just met you, I'm not getting in any sort of vehicle with you!" 

"Fine, be like that." he pulled out a black-cased cellphone from his pocket, speed dialing a  number within five seconds. "Hey, Tamm, how's it goin' yeah, the girls are here, yes both of them, alright, see you then, mm'bye" he ended the call as soon as he started the call, he ended it.

Hestia stood awestruck about how blunt Sasha was with her, it was obvious he wasn't going to put up with the girl's attitudes anytime soon, no matter who was dead or missing.

"That enough proof for you kiddo?" he said, shaking the phone in front of her, "You're old pal Tamara Sanford is waiting in the detective's wing of the police station waiting for you, she's worried sick don't you know?" he smugly guilt-tripped.

"Fine, Wren, get your boots on, we're going."