Dearly Departed: Magic and Mayhem Universe (Poppy Carlyle Chronicles)

by Boone Brux

  “Hey there, Poppy.” Bunny’s frosty pink lips split into a dazzling smile. “How’s it going?”

  “Everything’s great. Thanks for asking.” I placed my hand on Ricky’s shoulder. “This is Mr. Birch. Ricky this is Bunny. She’ll get you where you need to go today.” When he didn’t move, I gave him a nudge forward. “It’s all right. She won’t hurt you.”

  She jabbed a finger in his direction. “Not unless you beg me to, honey.” Laughter cackled from her and faded into a contented sigh which she punctuated with a little hiccup at the end. “Anyhoo, come on now. Get your cute tush down here, Mr. Birch. I promise we’ll have a great time.”

  He started forward, and for the first time ever, he smiled. I wasn’t sure, but I thought Ricky might have been crushing on Bunny a little. Who could blame him? She was like an effervescent fountain of pink sunshine that erupted all over a person. If I had to pin one word on her it would be contagious.

  I escorted Ricky to the elevator but stopped about ten feet from the opening. Despite Bunny’s cheery disposition, I kept my distance. The number one warning when I first became a grim reaper was not to get too close to my porter. No matter how much I liked Bunny, I didn’t trust her.

  I wasn’t completely sure how one became a porter, but I didn’t think being human was a requirement. Some of the porters I’d seen at conventions and on joint missions had me questioning whether they were human at all.

  Rule number two had been to never get involved with the client. No helping them contact their loved ones. No helping them finish their unfinished business. But I usually broke that rule. I’d known most of these people all my life. It seemed wrong to shuffle them off the mortal coil without offering a little afterlife help.

  “Is there any unfinished business you got Ricky? Any last messages for somebody special?”

  “Yeah, there’s one last message I’d like to send.” He stepped into the elevator and turned to face me.

  “Great. What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s for you.”

  My brow furrowed. “For me?”

  “Yep.”

  What could he possibly have to say to me? We barely knew each other. With the way my luck had been running, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it. But since this would be the last time I saw Ricky, I smiled and asked, “What is it?”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  I waited for more, but he didn’t say anything else. My gaze skated to Bunny.

  She looked thoughtful. “Well aren’t you the hopeless romantic, Mr. Birch?”

  “I’ve been told that before,” he said with a wink.

  She ran her fingers through his thinning patch of hair. “I bet you have. And you’re right.” She looked at me. “Heed his words, Poppy. The heart wants what the heart wants. There’s no use in fighting it.”

  With that, she stepped into the elevator. The doors slid shut, leaving me standing alone on Ricky Birches front porch. Neither one of them had given me time to reply or ask any questions. And though I didn’t want to admit it, Ricky was one-hundred percent correct. The heart wants what the heart wants, and sometimes the rest just didn’t matter.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do with that pearl of wisdom, so I tucked it away until I had more time to examine my feelings.

  I glanced back at the house. For about five seconds, I contemplated going inside to make sure the paramedics would find Ricky in a composed manner.

  Tingles of anxiety skittered along my skin. I might have been a grim reaper but seeing dead bodies skeeved me out. “Nope. Jax could deal with that.”

  Exiting Ricky’s yard, I closed the gate behind me, making sure it was latched, and headed toward town. That hadn’t been so bad. Sure, I never enjoyed reaping somebody I liked, but I looked at it this way. They were going to a better place, and I helped them get there. At least that’s what I told myself.

  Most of the time that rhetoric worked. It stopped me from drinking excessively and helped me sleep through the night. Bottom line, somebody had to do it. Why not me?

  As I approached Jax’s office, he stepped outside. “I was just headed over to your apartment.” He sauntered down the steps, his moves graceful. “I was thinking maybe we could get some breakfast.”

  “I love that idea, but...”

  “But what?” His smile pulled into a tight line, and his eyes narrowed on me. “This doesn’t have to do with your family showing up this morning, does it?”

  “No, actually it has to do with Ricky Birch.” I flicked my head in the direction of Ricky’s house. “I just sent him on his way, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh man, poor Ricky.” Jax pulled me into his arms. “Did he suffer?”

  “No.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and sunk into the embrace. After the morning I’d had, it was just what I needed. “He said he sat down to drink a second cup of coffee and never got up.”

  “How did he take being dead?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating against my ear.

  “Fine.” I closed my eyes and inhaled. The scent of fresh rain and sandalwood teased my nose. He smelled so good. “Ricky already knew he was dead. I found him sitting in his rocking chair on the front porch.”

  “Damn.” His hold tightened on me, and he kissed my hair. “I hate that you have to deal with this.”

  “I’ve got the easy part.” Resting my chin against his chest, I gazed up at him. “You’re the one that has to go deal with the dead body.”

  His gaze captured mine, and he lowered his head. His lips gently brushed my mouth, lingering a few seconds, before he straightened again. “Yeah, I guess I should get him sorted out.” He didn’t release me. “Do you have plans for tonight?”

  “Not yet. What did you have in mind?”

  “Dinner. There something I want to talk to you about.”

  A cold coil of dread tightened in my stomach. I let my arms slide from his waist. “What is it?”

  “We’ll talk tonight.” He released me, and I stepped back. “Pick you up at seven.”

  I didn’t like surprises, good or bad. My heart started racing. Had the incident with his family last night and my family this morning made him realize dating me was just too much work? If that’s what he was thinking, I couldn’t blame him. The last twenty-four hours had been hell, and unless he broke up with me, I didn’t see them easing up.

  I managed a smile and nodded. “Okay, see you then.”

  “Can’t wait,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

  With his attention focused on the task at hand, namely Ricky, I turned and walked across the street to my apartment. He wanted to have dinner. It was a simple as that. He wanted to talk to me about something, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily bad.

  Instantly jumping to the conclusion that he was gonna break up with me was stupid. He’d said we were a mated pair. To a Shifter that usually meant an unbreakable bond. I slammed my apartment door behind me and leaned against it. Then again, he hadn’t felt the full force of my family before.

  “It’s about time you get home,” said an unfamiliar voice.

  I jumped, for the first time noticing the woman standing beside my living room window. “Who are you?”

  Lifting her chin in the air, she gave an indignant sniff. “Rosalie Jackson.”

  From her perfectly coiffured hair and the size of the jewels sparkling at her neck, she was clearly from Jax’s family. But I’d never heard of her before, which could only mean one thing. She was dead. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jackson—”

  She cut me off mid-sentence. “Miss. Jackson. Never married. Can abide stupid man.”

  “Miss. Jackson,” I corrected. “But you’ve invaded my home. Uninvited. Without my permission,” I said stressing my point.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t have lowered myself to the task of coming here in person, but sometimes unpleasant deeds need to be handle discreetly and quickly.”

  “Okay, that’s a little insulting,” I sai
d.

  “I’m sorry for being so blunt, but that gossip-mongering aunt of yours claims you and Jaxson are a mated pair and that you’re getting married.” She squared her shoulders and sniffed again. “I came to find out for myself if that was true.”

  When I’d spoken to my aunt, I thought I’d been very clear on the point that Jax and I had no plans of tying the knot. Leave it to my family to twist my words and to use them to start trouble with the Jacksons. Wasn’t it bad enough I had to deal with the living? Now I had to sort out the dead too.

  “Miss. Jackson, I’ll tell you what I told my aunt. As of right now, Jax and I have no plans to marry. We’ve never discussed it.”

  “But,” she said, “are you a mated pair?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “But Jax believes we are.”

  “Sweet Lord in heaven.” She paced across the room, stopped at the kitchen entrance, pivoting, and then glided back in the opposite direction. “This just can’t be. He comes from a long line of noble mountain lion Shifters, and you...” Her eyes raked me from head to toe, her hand gesturing in my direction. “You’re... you’re... well... you’re a Dolbinrod.”

  The way she slighted my family raised the hair on the back of my neck. Sure, I had problems with my family, and I complained about them, but that didn’t give others the right to insult them. “And I’m a grim reaper.” I crossed my arms and gave her a smug look. “From what my aunt says that’s nothing to sneeze at.”

  “I admit having an angel of death in one’s family does elevate one’s status.” Her spine stiffened. “But even at that your family is still just a bunch of backwoods, redneck, lowlife hillbillies. No offense”

  “I’d rather be a redneck than a pompous elitist who can’t see past my own importance long enough to help anybody other than myself.”

  “At least my family doesn’t make a habit of getting run over by cars,” she countered.

  “But they do eat their young,” I snapped.

  “You’re an unpleasant young woman. I should’ve known you’d be no better than your country hick kin.” She held her head at a regal angle, making it possible to stare down her nose at me. “I wonder if Jaxson really cares about you. Maybe he’s just leading you on.”

  I flinched. “And why would he do that?”

  “Let’s just say blood is thicker than water.” A sneer tugged at the corner of her mouth. “The feud between our two families has a long memory. I wouldn’t put it past Jaxson to use you in an effort to get back in his grandfather’s good graces.”

  The thought had never crossed my mind, but now that she said it, I couldn’t help but wonder. Did Jax really love me or was he settling a family vendetta? No, he wouldn’t do that to me. He was different from his father. Without prompting, my skeptical side reared its ugly head. Was I just saying he was different because I wanted to believe that, or was it actually true? He’d never given me any reason to doubt him, and the old hag floating in front of me certainly wouldn’t make me question his affection.

  “You’re wrong.” Even though she wouldn’t exit through the front door, I pointed in that direction to emphasize my point. “Now, get out and don’t come back.”

  “My pleasure.” As she slowly faded, she said, “But mark my words, Poppy Carlyle, the only way you’ll ever be a member of my family is over my dead body.”

  “Too late.” I took a threatening step toward her fading image. “And I suggest you remember who you’re talking to, or a lot more of your family members might be joining you.”

  It was all bluster, but her eyes rounded, and she gasped, which was pretty satisfying. A second later, she winked out of sight, leaving me in my empty apartment. But, how long would it be until another deceased relative showed up? The dead were rising, and it was really cramping my love life.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Jax knocked on my door at seven o’clock, I’d worked myself into a pretty good frenzy. His Aunt Rosalie’s words kept turning over in my mind, replaying themselves. As much as I tried to ignore them, they eventually got the better of me.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Just need to find my purse.” I lifted the throw pillows on my couch. When I didn’t see my bag, I headed for my closet. “Sorry. I know it’s around here somewhere.”

  “No worries.” He followed me to the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, while I rooted around in my closet. “Our reservation isn’t until eight o’clock.”

  I stuck my head out of the rack of hanging clothes. “Reservations? Are you taking me someplace fancy?” I looked down at my cotton skirt and T-shirt. “Do I need to change clothes?”

  “No.” He edged toward me. I didn’t move as he closed in. “I think you look perfect.” His hands drifted to my waist, drawing me to him. “After last night, I figured I owed you a nice dinner.”

  I snaked my arms around his neck and lifted onto my tiptoes to kiss him. It was brief but satisfying, and as I lowered to flat feet, I said, “There was something you wanted to talk to me about, right?”

  His expression grew serious. “Yeah.” Though he didn’t let go of me, he straightened, and his arms grew slack. “Yeah, there’s definitely something I want to talk to you about.”

  I pursed my lips and squinted at him. “Am I going to like this?”

  He let go of me and turned to walk out of the closet. If the topic had been something good, like he wanted to whisk me away on a vacation to Hawaii, then he wouldn’t have been so apprehensive. I could only conclude that this would not be that kind of discussion. From the vibe I was getting, I probably needed to brace myself for some bad news. Was he breaking up with me? Was he going to tell me that he liked me but couldn’t stand my family? Had his family finally gotten to him and convinced him to break it off for the good of the pride?

  “I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this,” he said.

  “Then why don’t you tell me about it now? Before we get to the restaurant?”

  “No. I don’t want to take any chances of being interrupted. And besides, at the very least, I owe you dinner.”

  Seeing I wasn’t going to convince him to talk about whatever was on his mind, I turned back to my closet. “Oh, there it is.” I yanked my purse off the hook, slinging it over my shoulder, and then looked at Jax. “All set,” I said, giving him a smile I didn’t feel.

  Once in the car, the conversation flowed easily. He filled me in on what happened to Ricky Birch. It seemed Ricky had passed on from natural causes. Jax found the old man sitting in the chair, just like he said he would be. From the photos on the buffet, Jax had been able to track down a distant cousin in the next county over. He’d been able to wrap up the racoon Shifter’s business in a couple of hours.

  I liked when reaps were trouble-free, and I thought Ricky would’ve been happy with the way things were handled. Quickly with no fuss.

  Our total drive took about thirty minutes. Jax had made reservations at a little mom-and-pop restaurant a few towns over. I’d never heard of it, but I guess by being the local law enforcement, he got tips on more than just cases.

  The restaurant was a converted farmhouse. A wide porch stretched across the front, and the owners had positioned chairs for the waiting patrons, creating a welcoming and homey feel.

  When I stepped inside, the smell of baking bread enveloped me and made my mouth water. In response, my stomach let out an embarrassing growl. I hoped the food was as good as it smelled. It might be the only positive part of the evening.

  As my eyes adjusted to the dim interior, I could see we were the only ones in the place.

  “It looks like we’ve got the restaurant to ourselves,” Jax said.

  “Yeah, lucky us.” Was it a coincidence that we were the only patrons, or had Jax planned this so he could drop a bad news bomb on me? Before Rosalie’s visit, I wouldn’t have been suspicious, but she’d gotten in my head, and now everywhere I looked I saw conspiracy.

  A thin man with a receding hairlin
e smiled at us as we approached. “Good evening, do you have reservations?”

  “Jackson, party of two,” Jax said.

  “Excellent.” The man made a mark on the seating chart taped to the podium and then grab two giant menus from a pocket at the side. “Right this way.”

  When he turned, I noticed he sported a long ponytail. Dude, business in the front, party in the back. Though I thought he was prolonging the inevitable slide toward baldness, I appreciated his need to hold on to the past. Hell, I still had several questionable fashion choices I’d bought a decade ago hanging in the back of my closet. One of them being Jeggings. Jean leggings—so comfy.

  As we followed him into the dining room, Jax reached for my hand and twined his fingers with mine. That was a good sign, right?

  We were seated at a two-person table near the back. A single candle burned in the center of the table and gave off just enough light to make it romantic.

  “Here’s our wine list.” He handed a single page to Jax. “We also have domestic and imported beer, as well as hard liquor. Look that over and I’ll get you some water.”

  “Thank you,” we said in unison.

  With that, he scurried away, leaving Jax and I alone. I perused the choices. It took about five seconds for me to decide on the pork chops and baked potato. Setting down the menu, I folded my arms on top of the table and inhaled. “So, what’s this mysterious thing you want to talk to me about?”

  Not taking his eyes from the menu, he said, “Let’s get our food and drink orders in first and then we’ll talk.”

  Anxiety inched its way through me again. Did Jax feel like he needed to get me drunk before he could talk to me? That wasn’t a good sign. “Alrighty.”

  On cue, the waiter returned with our waters. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’d like a dirty martini with three olives.” At that Jax’s eyebrows raised, but he didn’t make a comment. “And I’ll have the pork chops, baked potato with everything, and a salad with thousand island dressing.” I was definitely going to get a good meal out of this evening, even if I had to take it home in a doggie bag.