Cye had one more drink and left to identify Jo Bob. Entering the building he felt dread. He had seen dead men in prison, but not his own brother. The coroner took Cye to the refrigerated room and pulled back the sheet.
“Yeah, that’s him,” said Cye, recognizing his brother right away, even with the big dent in his skull.
“Cye, let me know what kind funeral arrangements you’re going to make. I can keep him on ice as long as you need. I still have to run some tests, so I’ll let you know when I’m done, I can release him to the funeral home when you pick one.”
“No, don’t worry about it. Keep him for as long as you need. I don’t have money to bury him, or cremate him.”
Cye left, feeling sick to his stomach.