by Paula Lester
“He’s not a reaper. He’s a numbers guy. Sure, he’s around reapers a lot and deals with death, but only on the periphery. I don’t think he has much cause to be up-front-and-center like us. He’s probably freaked out at the sight of all the blood. Plus, he knew Cynthia. A little bit, anyway. It’s possible he’s never seen anyone die before.” She glanced back toward the horrible scene. “Especially so violently.”
“You’re probably right.” Tessa chewed her bottom lip, thinking about how Timothy had seemed in a hurry to leave the paddle board area and get to the snorkeling session. It didn’t make sense. Sure, he was a numbers guys. An allocations guy, to be exactl. And allocations meant death.
But why would he do that? And, assuming Art’s death had been arranged by the same person as Cynthia’s, what would Timothy’s motive have been?
The EMTs got Cynthia’s body into the ambulance, and the vehicle left without its flashers or sirens on. The crowd on the dock dissipated, everyone going off in separate directions, moving slowly.
When they were finally back in the hotel lobby, Gloria said, “Want to get a drink?”
Tessa shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m not really feeling it.”
“You’re right.” Gloria sighed. “Going to the bar right now is a bad idea. Tell you what. How about we head back to the room and order room service on the company card?” She waggled her eyebrows.
Tessa blinked. “Company card? What are you talking about?”
“Oops.” Gloria winced. “I figured Cheryl gave you one too.” She pulled a black credit card out of her back pocket and waved it under Tessa’s nose. “I keep it close in case I get hungry. And I’m always hungry. We get to comp our food while we’re here. I thought you knew.”
Through gritted teeth, Tessa said, “No. She didn’t give me one of those.”
She thought of Silas using Mrs. Cross’ money to buy expensive meals for them—money he could be saving for less expensive meals out with her when they got back home. Only, Tessa wasn’t ready to think about what they were going to be when they were back home. She wanted to live in the here and now. After all, not every day was guaranteed. Just ask Cynthia.
“Can I borrow that tomorrow?” she asked. “I think Silas and I need to go on a dining spree. I’m feeling a little ravenous from all the learning I’ve been doing.”
Gloria dissolved into giggles. “You’re going to get me fired. But yeah, you can borrow it. Anything to help you two lovebirds realize you’re perfect for each other.”
They headed for the elevator. “Why don’t you spend as much time focused on your own love life as you do mine?”
Gloria gave her a sidelong look and a mischievous grin. “Maybe I do.”
Tessa’s jaw dropped for a second, then she scowled at her friend. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to keep your cards close to the vest to avoid my input but, in the meantime, you just carry on with all your delightful commentary about my love live? I mean, about my friendship with Silas.”
Gloria shook her head as they got on the elevator. “Nah, I’m kidding. I’m not dating anyone right now. Just living vicariously through you. The meet-cute is the best part. But as soon as I’m interested in someone, I’ll let you know.”
Tessa’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket to find a text from Abi: Your evil cat left a hairball for me to step on in the kitchen. Then she looked smug. Have I said to get a new cat-sitter next time? If not, I’m saying it.
Tessa texted back: That’s how she shows love. You are her chosen one—forever and always Pepper’s cat sitter.
A second later, Abi replied: Promise you’ll bring home wine AND chocolate if you want me to even consider not strangling this creature.
Chuckling, Tessa shook her head and texted back: I will bring payment. Unless . . . Pepper beats me to it.
What does that even mean? Does she bring you mice? Am I going to find a mouse? Tessa? Really???
Have fun! Xoxo
As they entered the hotel room, Gloria said, “Weren’t you supposed to hang out with Silas tonight?”
Tessa flopped onto the bed and threw an arm over her eyes in her best impression of Scarlet O’Hara. “Yes. But I don’t think I’m up for it. I just want to watch a funny movie and eat until my sides burst.”
“I’m already on that second part.” Gloria waved the room service menu in the air and picked up the room phone to place an order.
Tessa sat up and scrolled on her phone until she found Silas’s name. She tapped it and waited for him to answer.
“Hey! Done with the team-building stuff already?”
“Yes.” She winced. “But it ended kind of badly. One of our agents was killed in a shark attack.”
She heard him suck in a breath. “That’s . . . pretty terrible and not at all what I expected you to say. Wow. How are you holding up?”
“Okay, I guess. But would you blame me if I’m not really up for going out tonight? Is that all right with you?” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed.
“Oh, yeah, sure. Actually, that works out fine because I had a little incident today myself. I could use some rest.”
“Incident? What incident?” She felt a twang of alarm.
“Jellyfish sting. And, no, I didn’t do that thing they say to do to make jellyfish stings feel better. I was on a crowded beach. And I don’t know yoga.”
“How bad is it?”
“It’s pretty swollen. I took a bunch of Ibuprofen and I think I’m going to crash early.”
Tessa blew out a breath. “Okay. Well, I hope you feel better. Talk to you tomorrow.”
They hung up, and Tessa sprawled out on the bed. Gloria had turned on the TV before going into the bathroom. Tessa stared at the ceiling and thought again about how Timothy had looked when he’d retreated from the dock.
But before she had much time to think about it, there was a knock on the door. She dragged herself off the bed and opened it to find a bellhop with a cart so loaded with food it was fairly he’d managed to push it without losing a bunch. There were appetizers, steaks, seafood, a whole chocolate cake, and milkshakes—the kind that come in glasses with a mound of whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Good grief.
Gloria really knew how to leverage a spending account.
Chapter 11
“TODAY’S SESSIONS ARE canceled.” April’s face revealed more lines than usual, as if she’d stayed up all night after Cynthia’s death. She paused, pursing her lips for a few seconds before continuing. “Our thoughts and condolences are with Cynthia’s family during this difficult time.”
They were in the main conference room. It was only about half full. Many of the other reapers must’ve known this was coming and had chosen to sleep in. But the caterer hadn’t gotten the memo. Tessa guiltily pushed away her plate, piled high with breakfast food. After gorging themselves on room service, and with the thought of Cynthia’s death back on her mind, she was in no mood to eat.
She only wished April was more forthcoming with information. Surely, this wasn’t planned. And none of the reapers who had been snorkeling seemed to have seen much, including her soul or anyone taking her to the other side.
April cleared her throat. “We need everyone to stay on-site and be prepared for questioning as we investigate these strange occurrences.” Without a proper closing, April left the stage and the dull roar of conversation rose in the room.
Gloria, with the metabolism of a hummingbird and apparently not plagued with the same stomach-turning visions as Tessa, spoke around a mouthful of sausage. “Well, I guess we’re stuck here for the day. What are you going to do?”
Tessa shrugged. “There’s not much to do.”
“Let’s see.” Gloria quirked her lips in mock thought. “Since I’m living vicariously through you. I say you invite hottie landlord to hang out at the pool.” Gloria grinned and popped a grape into her mouth. “Besides, your tan could use some work.”
Tessa raised an e
yebrow.
“What? Dragon-lady didn’t say we couldn’t have visitors. She just said we couldn’t leave. I’m going to book myself a full day at the spa upstairs. So, if they want to question me—they’ll have to find me first.”
“A spa day does sound good . . .”
“You are not invited. Again, if I were in your shoes, I’d be with that hottie. I’m only taking the second-best option so that you and he can be alone. I’m not a third wheel.” A sly grin spread across her face.
“Fine.” Tessa pulled her plate back, her growling stomach, having valiantly fought off the nausea, now demanded sustenance. “Anyway, I wouldn’t want Silas to find out I had a whole day off and didn’t call him. After all, he’s only in Miami because I suggested it.”
“Atta girl.” Gloria bumped Tessa’s shoulder with her own. “You two are perfect for each other. So, stop being all . . . Tessa . . . and catch that hunk o’ man, already.”
“The problem is I can never stop being Tessa.” She gave up the pipe dream of a healthy breakfast and started in on a cruller.
“Well, you can be Tessa, but just don’t be that Tessa.”
The aforementioned Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Which Tessa would that be again?”
“The one who overthinks everything. Be spontaneous Tessa instead.”
“That’s ridiculous. Besides, I used to be spontaneous, and that’s how I ended up with Frank.”
“That’s a story you’re gonna have to tell me someday.”
“I’d prefer not to.”
“Then write a new story. A better one.” Gloria didn’t say any more. She just grinned, winked, and stuffed some toast with jam in her mouth.
After breakfast, Tessa texted Silas. He responded almost immediately, letting her know he needed to change but would come right over after that.
With a little flutter of nerves in her belly, Tessa got into her suit and headed to the pool. It was outdoors, with palm trees lining the edges of the blue and green-tiled deck. The water glistened invitingly.
There was a smattering of people there, mostly other reapers, who Tessa avoided. She found a small empty table with an umbrella to put her bag on, then settled into a lounge chair next to it. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the sun soak into her skin.
“Is this chair taken?”
Tessa’s eyes popped open. She expected to see Silas—to hear Silas’s voice—but instead, her heart sped up when she recognized the tall man she’d seen in the hallway on the first day of the conference.
He wore black swim trunks, and his dark, shoulder-length hair was now caught up in a black leather band. The man looked like he’d never eaten a carb in his life. She was glad dark sunglasses hid his strange eyes.
Tessa realized too much time had gone by since he’d asked about the lounge chair next to her. “No. I mean yes. Um, actually, my friend is coming in a few minutes,” she stammered.
He smiled, revealing those predatory teeth, and lowered himself into the chair without acknowledging what she’d said. He leaned back and smiled. “Ah. This is the life, is it not?”
What an odd speech pattern. Like he was European or something. Or straight out of a Victorian romance novel. “Y . . . yes. It’s really nice. Are you here for the conference?” The guy did give off subtle reaper vibes, but she hadn’t seen him attending any of the presentations or in the buffet lines.
He glanced her way and then returned to facing the sun. “I’m here to observe the conference, yes. Mainly, I am enjoying cocktails and surfing. There were some gnarly waves yesterday.”
Tessa felt her eyebrows rise. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a surfer dude. “I think I missed your name before. I’m Tessa.” He’d already demonstrated he knew that, of course, but her midwestern politeness didn’t care.
“My name is Corwin Blade.” His fingers laced over cut abdomen muscles.
Blade. She’d heard that name recently. Where was it?
“Nice to meet you, Corwin.” She tried to watch him without being obvious about it. The man had such an unusual energy about him. If she had to explain it, the word she’d choose would be ancient. But that was crazy. The guy didn’t look a day over thirty.
“And Tessa, how are you enjoying your new job?”
“It’s great. Except for the fact that my co-workers seem to be dying disproportionately.” She winced, not sure that was a proper topic of conversation. But she couldn’t help herself. “Do you know anything about that? About poor Cynthia or Art? April says their deaths are unaccounted for.”
He waved a hand. “I gave up on handling the mundane details of reaper work a long . . . long time ago.” He tipped his head to look at her.
It was a bit disconcerting not to be able to see his eyes through the dark glasses. But Tessa knew from experience that being able to see them was just as unnerving.
“Oh, are you retired or something?” As soon as she said it, Tessa knew that was ridiculous. Corwin Blade was nowhere near retirement age.
He chuckled, and the sound reminded her inexplicably of metal gears grinding. A shiver skittered up her spine, and she glanced around to make sure there were still people nearby. No one was sparing a glance in their direction.
“I guess you could say I’m retired, yes. I’ve delegated all my responsibilities to others. I serve in a much more advisory capacity now. But, if necessary, I’ll step in and handle this current situation.” He returned his head to a straight position. “It’s not likely that I’ll need to, though. My people are quite capable. Especially the head of the task force on unaccounted-for deaths. Top-notch, that one. A real go-getter.”
“That’s good. I guess.” Tessa threw her legs over the side of the lounger, deciding it was time to put some distance between herself and the strange man. “It was nice meeting you. I think I’m going to get a drink from the bar.”
He wiggled his fingers in a cutesy wave. “Have fun.”
Tessa grabbed her bag and took a few steps before his voice stopped her.
“One more thing.” His words lingered in ears. “Should you ever need it, the power of the Scythe is always within your grasp. You need only call for it.”
She turned back toward the chairs, but Blade was no longer on his lounger. He was standing a couple of inches away from her. She forced herself not to shriek or jump backward. “The . . . Scythe?”
“It’s my strongest power. And sometimes I loan it out to people who work for me. But only those who are the most promising. The smartest. Reapers with the greatest of potential.” He grinned. “Like you.”
Slowly, as though the gears in her brain were grinding, his words made sense. “You’re . . .”
“I’m late for a date with a fine young lady and a coconut-flavored drink,” he finished. “Have a lovely day, Tessa Randolph. And remember what I said about the Scythe.” He saluted with the tip of his finger on his sunglasses and then strode across the pool deck toward the hotel, brushing past Silas as he went.
Silas rubbed his arm but didn’t look at Blade. He spotted Tessa, smiled, and walked over to her. “Hey! Sorry it took me so long. I got locked out of my hotel room and had to get them to make me a new pass key.” His eyes moved down to her feet and back up to her eyes. He swallowed hard. “You look . . . I mean you look . . . wow.”
“Thanks,” she barely acknowledged the compliment. Her eyes were still on Blade’s back. “That man has a strange energy, doesn’t he?”
Silas’s gaze followed hers, and then his brow furrowed. He looked back at her. “What man?”
“The one I was talking to just now.” She took in Silas’s bewildered expression and realized the truth too late. Her landlord hadn’t been able to see Blade. She waved a hand. “Never mind. I guess he slipped into the changing room. I’m sure he was gone before you came out onto the deck.” She smiled. “I was just going to get a cocktail. Do you want one?”
His face smoothed, and he grinned back at her. “Something coconutty sounds nice.”
“Yeah
. They have that. It’s called a piña colada.”
“I’ll take one for each hand.” He smiled.
As they headed toward the pool bar, Tessa glanced at the door Blade had disappeared through. She had no further doubt about the man’s identity, but she couldn’t help but feel a little concerned about his motives.
Why had the original Grim Reaper taken a special interest in her?
Chapter 12
SHE IGNORED THE BUZZING purse as long as possible, even moving it from the back of her chair to the floor so it would be quieter. Tessa was enjoying dinner with Silas at Rio Italiana, the nicest restaurant in the hotel. She’d curled her hair and put on makeup that was actually visible without squinting. Gloria’s guidance, of course. Her friend had even done her wings—so they were symmetrical for once.
She felt pretty, and they were having a nice time. Silas looked like a bronze statue. He was relaxed and telling funny stories. And Tessa felt relaxed too.
Except for that buzzing phone.
Finally, with an apologetic look at Silas, she leaned over and dug it out of her purse. “I should have left this thing at the hotel.”
He waved a hand. “Go ahead and take it. Could be important.”
Tessa glanced at the screen, which confirmed what she’d known in her gut. “It’s definitely not important. It’s my mother.” She slid the bar on the screen. “Hi. I’m kinda busy. What’s up?”
“Busy? Busy doing what? It’s eight-thirty. You should be getting ready for bed. I already have my mask on.”
Tessa rubbed her forehead, trying not to envision Cheryl with a bunch of green goo spread all over her face. “Mom! I’m at dinner. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing, really. I heard about poor Cynthia and wanted to see how the investigation is going.”
Something in her tone made Tessa sit up straighter and pay closer attention. “I, uh, I don’t really know. April’s dealing with that. I haven’t been questioned or anything. How’d you know about it?”
She remembered that Cheryl had known about Art’s death too. There must be some kind of reaper grapevine that Tessa wasn’t privy to yet. Maybe if she ever got a management position, she would be.
