Shoofly Pie & Chop Shop by Tim Downs

forehead. “You boys almost missed the party—and you just mightbe the guests of honor.” He plucked a single specimen from the wound and held it up, examining it closely.
    At that exact moment the door swung open and Mr. Schroeder stepped into the garage, and with a single sweep of his eyes comprehended the situation. His face began to grow red and to contort, as though he were rapidly trying on a variety of new facial expressions in sizes and styles unfamiliar to him.
    “What,” he blurted out, “is the meaning of this?”
    “Oh no,” Kathryn said aloud. It was her worst fear realized; in her mind’s eye she could already see the morning headlines.
    “Mrs. Guilford,” Nick said quietly, still studying his specimen, “I could use a little help here.” Kathryn rushed to intercept the furious Mr. Schroeder.
    “I distinctly forbade you to conduct this kind of examination!”
    “Mr. Schroeder, if you’ll just listen to me for a moment, I—”
    “You have gone behind my back to conduct this reprehensible procedure in my own facility!”
    “If you’ll just give me a minute to explain, I’m sure I can—”
    Casey leaned over to Nick. “You’re not really from the medical examiner’s office, are you?”
    “Nah.” He shrugged. “But we’re having a good time, aren’t we?”
    With each exchange Mr. Schroeder grew more and more livid, and soon he began to spit and splutter accusations and invectives so rapidly that it was impossible to understand him. For her part, Kathryn kept apologizing and explaining, calming and reassuring, all the time keeping herself strategically positioned between Mr. Schroeder and “the good doctor.” But she was quickly coming to the end of her diplomatic abilities.
    “Griff,” Nick said urgently, “toss me another container—quick.”
    “We’re out of containers,” Griff said, holding open the knapsack. “See?”
    “Hold this!” he commanded, shoving the forceps and its tiny captive into Casey’s hand. “Very gently!” He hastily searched through the already-filled containers and chose the one marked “left ocular cavity.” He popped off the lid and with a flip of his wrist flung its contents across the room. The larvae rebounded like tiny marshmallows off the side of the gleaming hearse. “Sorry,boys,” he said, taking the forceps carefully from Casey, “somebody else needs this cab.”
    Mr. Schroeder was almost on top of him now, shouting and threatening and waving his arms around Kathryn. Nick tossed the last of the containers into the knapsack, cinched it shut, and stood up so abruptly that Mr. Schroeder stopped in midsentence.
    “I believe we have everything we require here,” Nick announced with great dignity. “Thank you, Mr. Schroeder, it was a lovely service.” He rubbed Griff’s head, gave Casey a quick thumbs-up, and proceeded out the garage door. Kathryn watched him wide-eyed, then turned back to Mr. Schroeder, as if there might be some appropriate parting words for such a situation. She stood silently with her mouth half open, her eyes darting desperately from side to side. At last she smiled weakly, shrugged, and hurried down the driveway.
    They sat in the car a long time, silently staring out the windshield. Kathryn pulled at the sun visor; it came off in her hand. She studied herself in the mirror. She was white as paste, and there were red circles around her eyes that almost matched the red bandanna still stretched across her face. She was panting hard, and with each breath the bandanna fluttered out in front of her like a crimson pennant. She sat slumped in the seat, her arms limp at her sides, and both her legs were trembling uncontrollably.
    “I don’t know about you,” Nick said, “but I’m starving.”

Kathryn sat slowly sipping black coffee in a remote corner of the Smithfield Chicken and Barbecue in Rayford. She insisted on a table as far as possible from the All-You-Can-Eat Pig Pickin’ Buffet and positioned herself with