Santi’s perusal of the small graveyard, as I was now thinking of it despite my best efforts to keep an open mind, was brief. “We’ll need to trim back these shrubs, get a better look.”
Mariah and Mark, who had come right home from work when his wife called, nodded somberly and then asked a very smart question. “How do you want us to handle that? Do it ourselves? Have a professional come in?”
Despite his obvious stress, Santi smiled just a bit. “Let’s have a professional do it. That way we don’t risk disturbing the site, and you get a fresh trim instead of a butcher job.” He winced. “Not that you two would butcher—”
and Mark interrupted. “Oh, we would. No offense taken. Professional landscapers we are not.” He took out his phone and quickly found the number. “Linda, is your team available
