"You should know better," he scolded. Both Shannie and I cringed as he spoke - his voice screeched like the breaks of a freight train.
"Your right sir," Shannie responded.
The funeral director diverted his gaze and scrutinized Shannie. "I'm not talking to you!"
"Sorry," Shannie rose her chin. I stepped back.
"Janice set us up!" Steve cried.
"Oh?" Mr. Lucas responded. He sounded amused. "Is that so?"
"Damn straight," Steve kept a safe distance from the ashen undertaker.
"Janice set you up," Mr. Lucas chided. "There you go again, blaming your sisters. What do I have to do for you understand accountability?"
Years later, Steve Lucas admitted to Shannie and I what his father had in mind. Shannie and I were enjoying cocktails at Dino and Luigi's when Steve Lucas stumbled in. We invited him to join us and after a few drinks the conversation came around to our Halloween stunt. "You know what that prick did? He made me sleep in the room with the fucking stiffs! The fucker locked me in there. He bolted the doors! Whenever we had a full house, he made me sleep in that room. "I'm putting you in charge of security," he'd tell me. "I don't want any more corpses walking away. I hope he rots in hell!" Steve Lucas sermonized.
"That's disgusting!" the tipsy Shannie cried.
The elder Lucas made my mother seem like Mother Theresa. The Funeral Director's idea of retribution for Shannie, Count, and I was much more subtle. He sent us on our way - with the warning: If the deceased doesn't turn up by 8:00 A.M., I will have the three of you arrested!
"He's bluffing," Shannie said. "He has Mrs. Johnson. If he didn't, he'd be having a conniption."
"You're wrong," Count told her. "My old man deals with that bastard - the prick is half-stiff. He doesn't get excited over anything. He's as cool as a cucumber!"
"Count's right," I said.
"Whatever. I'm not spending all night on a wild goose chase. Drop me off at home. I'm getting a good night's sleep. Do the same."
"But, what if she's not there?"
"Then you better get a good night's sleep because you're going to need it," Shannie said.
"I think we oughta look around. I mean, what if Byrne took the stiff and dumped it in the weeds somewhere. That big mouthed twerp."