26Clara’s “uncle” chewed bubble gum that stunk up the morgue. Spearmint and formaldehyde did not mix.
“Good evening,” the man said. “My name’s Maxwell Bourgeois. I was told you have one of my bodies…I mean girls.” He tapped his thighs and made the ba-dum-tish sound while laughing at his own joke.
“Are you here to identify the body? You’re a family member?”
The man flipped his Hermès briefcase to hide the Quirk Model Management engraved on the front. “Indeed, indeed. Clara’s uncle. Ugh, this is all so heartbreaking.”
“You work for Quirk Model Management?” Ava asked.
The corner of the man’s mouth turned up. “I’m here to identify my niece’s body.”
“And you work for Quirk,” Ava said.
“Who are you?” Maxwell asked.
“She’s an intern,” the coroner said. “I apologize for her behavior. She’s
