by Paula Lester
“That they’re useless in negotiations,” Nathaniel said.
Tessa knew Nathaniel’s name too. He was Mr. Green’s son-in-law. Mrs. Cross hadn’t had good things to say about him either.
The two hovered over Lark like vultures.
Then the mansion’s front door swung open, and an elderly woman, bent and leaning heavily on a cane, hobbled out. The woman hurried over to give her his arm.
“What’s going on?” the older woman croaked, and then her gaze fell on the sobbing Lark. She looked confused, dazed even.
“Mother,” the woman at her arm straightened, “we talked about this. Remember? We know for a fact Lark, here, is a murderess. She killed Father.”
Lark wailed louder, turning her focus to the elderly woman. “Mrs. Green, I swear I didn’t kill your husband. I . . . I loved him. He was always kind to me. And Hannah, you remember when we used to play as girls? I used to come to your holiday parties . . .”
“I remember.” Hannah, whom Tessa had realized was Mr. Green’s daughter and Nathaniel’s wife, looked unsure for a moment. Then she leaned closer to Lark. “I remember it all too well. You were a liar then, and you’re just as bold of one now.”
“I’m not lying! I don’t know why that cleaner was in the kitchen. I made Mr. Green’s cereal and served it to him like always. Then I went up to tidy the bedroom.” She ended on a sob, putting her face in her hands. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Hannah studied the chef. For a second, it looked almost like she did believe her. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell the police about this until after Dad’s funeral.”
“No!” Nathaniel boomed. “She killed him. She needs to be put away.”
“But the police arrested someone else. And if we make it public knowledge that Dad was killed by a member of his own staff, won’t he look stupid?” Hannah glanced at Lark. “It isn’t like she’s going to be able to disappear into thin air or anything. We can talk to the police later. After the press loses interest.”
Nathaniel was shaking his head almost violently, but Mrs. Green tipped her head. “You may be right, dear. I have no desire to see your father’s poor judgement splashed across the newspapers, tarnishing his memory.”
“It wouldn’t tarnish his memory because I didn’t do it. I’ll take a lie detector. Whatever it takes.”
Hannah set her jaw. “You’re not welcome here. Get off our property and don’t you ever come back.”
Lark sobbed even harder, but she didn’t argue anymore. She stumbled across the porch and down the stairs.
Tessa and Gloria had to dance out of her way as she hurtled past them.
The three on the porch watched the chef get into a rusty Ford sedan and drive away.
“There,” Hannah said. “It’s done.”
Mrs. Green nodded solemnly. “I need to rest before the funeral director arrives. Will you help me upstairs?”
“Of course, Mom. Let’s get you to your chair.” Hannah helped the old woman back into the house.
Nathaniel stayed on the porch, staring up the driveway where Lark had disappeared. He frowned.
Gloria tugged on Tessa’s arm, and they headed away from the house too.
Tessa let her mind wander while Gloria led the way.
It made sense that the chef would have great access to Mr. Green’s food. But why would she poison him if she depended so much on the job? It seemed like she wasn’t well-liked by anyone else in the family and the old man had been the only reason Lark stayed employed there.
Still, it was more likely to have been the chef than Silas. At least Tessa had somewhere to start her investigation.
Chapter 9
"WELL, HERE WE ARE. Back where we began." Gloria put the car in park. They'd spent the rest of the day on three additional reaps, with Gloria giving Tessa tips now and then.
Tessa hadn't needed to use her special badge—the reaps had all been in private homes or outside where no one else was around. She’d made a mental note to figure out a good spot to keep the lanyard when she wasn’t working. She could easily imagine herself losing the thing and then having to frantically search everywhere for it.
She hopped out of Gloria's car and then stuck her head back through the doorway. "Thanks for everything today. You're a great boss!"
Gloria chuckled and made a shooing motion. "Go on. I'm having dinner with Ella, and I don't want to be late."
"Have fun. Hey, ask her about that Thai food, will ya?"
Gloria drove off in a hurry. Good thing Linda fired right up with no problem. But before Tessa could put the car into reverse, already thinking about Silas and what she may be able to do next for him, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out to see a text from her mom: Care to come over for dinner at seven?
Tessa chewed her bottom lip for a second, wondering what to do. Once again, it was late in the evening, and Tessa had no idea how she could possibly help Silas. Gloria had put her investigation in the right direction. But it wasn’t like she was a detective. She was a reaper. And her mother was now even higher up in the pecking order. Maybe she could offer some insight that neither Tessa nor Gloria had thought of yet.
Tessa’s stomach grumbled, clinching the decision. She typed back quickly: Sure. Need me to bring anything?
The answer came almost immediately: I think I'm all set.
It was just like Cheryl to be “all set.” She was Type A in every single way, which included hosting others for dinner—even her own daughter. She’d been that way as long as Tessa could remember.
Tessa wondered how her mother had managed it all. Cheryl kept the house clean, got dinner prepped and ready by seven every night, and still maintained a solid relationship with Tessa’s father. And she did that between reaps, PTA, choir practice, and attending Tessa’s extracurricular activities.
The clock on Linda's dashboard said it was before six o'clock. Tessa considered going to her apartment for a little while but quickly decided against it. Maybe she could learn a few other things from her mother. She drove straight to her mom's house and parked on the street out front.
As usual, pulling up to her childhood home brought on a flood of memories and emotions. She'd had a good childhood, if a tiny bit lonely as an only child. So, most of the memories were good. Still, Tessa always thought about her dad as she walked the familiar path up the driveway to the front door. She really missed him, and whenever something new happened in her life, she always wondered how he would react to it.
Her mind drifted to Silas, and she imagined bringing him home to meet her dad. She had no doubt they’d get along, since both men liked working with their hands and putting in an honest day’s labor.
It was more than that, though. Silas was the first guy she’d ever thought this way about. Her heart squeezed at the thought that the two men would never get to sit down and have a meal together or commiserate over Tessa's less desirable traits.
She entered the house and called out, so she wouldn't startle her mom.
Cheryl appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing an apron. "You're an hour early, Theresa. Dinner’s not ready." Her tone of voice seemed to indicate that Tessa should turn around and leave the house.
Tessa shook her head. "Sorry. I just had nothing to do for an hour, so I decided to come on over. Maybe I could help you with dinner?"
Cheryl's face twisted for a second in an expression that clearly showed she had doubts about Tessa's ability to help. She quickly smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead out. “You? Help with dinner?”
Tessa rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mom. I can cook a little bit. Besides, I could use a lesson or two. You can teach me more, so I’ll get better at it."
“I tried to when you were in high school.”
“I wasn’t ready for it then.” No, I was dealing with other stuff. She batted her eyelashes a little bit and tried to look younger.
Cheryl sighed and headed back into the kitchen. "Come on, then."
Tessa dropped her purse on a chair in the living room on
her way through to the kitchen. "Smells good in here. What are we having?"
"Roasted chicken and vegetables. You can chop the potatoes." Cheryl gestured toward a bowl full of russets on the counter. "I already scrubbed them."
Tessa washed her hands in the kitchen sink and then began chopping. Cheryl was busy seasoning the bird, which was already in a roasting pan.
"So, how was your first day as the Eastern district supervisor?" Tessa asked.
“Horrible. There was a mound of paperwork and video conferencing—between which I had plenty of additional regulations to read.” She cut her eyes toward Tessa. “You know, all the job description type of stuff that you skimmed over when you started your new job.”
With a smirk, Tessa dropped a handful of newly chopped potatoes into the pan. “I figured you’d tell me anything truly important.”
“Yes, well, my boss isn’t so accommodating as yours was.”
Tessa thought about Corwin Blade. He’d been pretty nice to her, but she could imagine it wouldn’t be good to be on his bad side. As a grim reaper, getting fired isn’t the worst thing that could happen when important rules get broken. At least, that’s what Cheryl had hinted at now and then.
“The secret is to stuff bits of butter and herbs under the skin.” Cheryl demonstrated, showing Tessa how to season the chicken. “The second secret is to not overcook it.”
“But it’s chicken.” Tessa eyed it as if just looking at it might give her salmonella.
“A lot of people are antsy about chicken, and they want to make extra sure it’s done. So, I have a secret weapon to guard against that.” Cheryl held up a meat thermometer.
“That’s it? Not very glamorous. I thought you were going to show me a real secret,” Tessa teased. “Like one from the big guy.” She cut her eyes toward her mother. “You have one of those, don’t you?”
Cheryl gave no indication she knew what Tessa was talking about. “I have a thermometer, dear. I pull the chicken out of the oven when it’s about five degrees below where I want it to end up. It’ll continue to cook a bit and finish up once it’s out. That’s another thing a lot of people don’t realize about chicken. If you cook it until it gets to the temperature you’re going for before taking it out, it will be overcooked.”
Tessa dumped the rest of the potato chunks into the roasting pan, and Cheryl slid the whole thing into the oven. Then she turned toward her daughter, and her eyes dropped to Tessa’s chest. “What’s that?”
Tessa’s hand flew up. Did her V-neck dip too low? But when her fingertips brushed the special badge, she winced internally. She’d gotten distracted with memories when she arrived at Cheryl’s house and hadn’t taken it off.
“A reaper badge,” Tessa said cautiously, unsure whether her mother was upset or not. “Gloria said you didn’t think I was ready for this, but she does.”
Cheryl’s expression wasn’t readable. “She’s your direct supervisor now. I won’t have time to micromanage all of the agency managers, nor do I care to. If Gloria’s wrong, she’ll have to deal with the consequences.”
Not exactly a ringing endorsement of either Gloria’s managerial skills or Tessa’s ability to not screw up her new responsibilities. But in the world of Cheryl Randolph, it was pretty good. Tessa decided to take it as a victory and not push her luck.
Cheryl crossed the room and pulled two wine glasses out of the antique hutch there. She splashed what Tessa guessed was close to an exact ounce of red wine into each of them and handed her daughter one. “Care to sit on the back porch while the chicken roasts?” She grinned. “Since you were early.”
Tessa accepted the glass and followed her mother through the house and out the back door. Cheryl glanced over her shoulder. “Do you need a sweater? The evening’s a bit chilly.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
They settled into chairs and sipped in silence for a few minutes, each looking over the back yard and its prim landscaping.
Finally, Cheryl said, “So, did you have a chance to use that today?” She tipped her head toward the badge.
“Gloria mentored me on several reaps. I used the badge at the hospital for an elderly woman and again at the chemical plant. But I didn’t need it for the rest of them.” She wasn’t about to tell her mom they’d gone to Mr. Green’s property and used Gloria’s new invisibility to spy on the people there. Cheryl was in a more flexible, sweet mood than usual, but there was no way she’d condone what they’d done, even if it was to help an innocent man escape wrongful charges.
As though Cheryl picked Silas out of Tessa’s thoughts, she said, “I heard about your landlord being arrested for Artemis Green’s murder.”
Maybe it was the wine. More likely, it was being in her childhood home and all the feelings that brought up. But whatever it was, Tessa felt herself sort of crumble inside at her mother’s words. “It was all my fault. Gloria was right. I shouldn’t have lied to him. If I hadn’t, he never would have followed me on Mr. Green’s reap and gotten himself caught on camera.” The words sounded anguished, even to her own ears, but she couldn’t help it.
Still, as soon as they were out of her mouth, Tessa regretted saying them. She just knew Cheryl would give her a dressing down for putting Silas in harm’s way.
Only she didn’t. She did something else entirely.
Cheryl smiled slightly, mostly in her eyes. “You really like him, don’t you?”
Tessa had to fight through her startled feelings to choke out an answer. “He’s a really nice guy.”
“Cute too.” Cheryl winked.
Tessa’s laughter surprised her. “Mom!” she chided. But then she shrugged and admitted, “Super cute.”
“I know I’m not your supervisor anymore, so maybe my opinion on this doesn’t matter, but I don’t agree with Gloria. I don’t think this is your fault—you weren’t lying to Silas just for the sake of lying. You were trying to protect him. You didn’t know it would work out this way.” She gazed across the back yard, a wistful look on her face. “We so often can’t predict what our loved ones will do.”
Tessa knew Cheryl was remembering Michael Randolph, who had made a decision to take Tessa’s place when she was scheduled to die. Cheryl hadn’t known her husband was going to do it.
As though dragging herself back to the current time, Cheryl returned her gaze to her daughter. “Things will work out for your Silas. The police still have a lot of work to do to prove he’s guilty of Mr. Green’s murder.”
They fell into silence again, sipping wine and losing themselves in their own thoughts. Tessa wasn’t so sure that the police would do much more to prove Silas’s guilt. The words that Mrs. Cross had used, open and shut case, drifted back to her.
But thinking about her elderly neighbor gave Tessa an idea about where to go next in her own investigation.
Chapter 10
TESSA SORT OF THOUGHT it wasn't a regular thing for grim reapers to have a day off. At least, when she’d looked over her contract, that wasn't included.
Oh, she had plenty of time off—when she wasn't actively on a reap or filling out paperwork, Tessa could pretty much do whatever she wanted. But, still, unless she specifically requested vacation time and her jobs were shifted to other reapers in the agency, Tessa expected to work some every day.
How did that idiom go? There were two certainties in life and the death one kept her and many other reapers busy. She wondered if taxes were so certain, how come accountants only worked hard one or two months of the year?
But when she got up the morning after having dinner with Cheryl, her app was blank. There were no reaps scheduled for her that day.
"Thanks, Gloria." Tessa smiled. Clearly, her friend had arranged it so Tessa would have the day free to investigate Artemis Green’s murder. And luckily, she knew exactly where she wanted to begin.
She gathered her supplies, making sure to grab the magical badge Gloria had given her the day before, and headed out the door.
Her intention was to kno
ck on Mrs. Cross's door and see if she knew Lark’s address. But Tessa was surprised to find Mrs. Cross already in the hallway, heading for the lobby. The bandana was no longer on her head, and the curlers were out, tight round tunnels of hair left in their wake.
"Good morning, Mrs. Cross!” Tessa hurried to catch up with the elderly lady. "Where are you off to so early?"
The elderly woman glared at Tessa, who held her breath, figuring the woman was going to tell her off and refuse to help.
Instead, Mrs. Cross puffed out a breath. "Well, I wouldn't normally consider it to be any of your business, girl. But, since it’s to do with that dreadful murder your boyfriend committed, I'll tell you.”
Tessa ground her teeth, thinking better than to respond. She needed Mrs. Cross’s help.
“I'm going to visit Sky. She called me last night, distraught. Now, she and I don't normally have a lot of love lost between us, you know. But those idiot relatives of Artemis’s fired her daughter Lark, who takes care of her now. I thought I'd go over and check in on them. See how they’re doing."
“What did they fire her for?” Tessa hoped she looked and sounded appropriately clueless and not at all like someone who had used invisibility magic to listen in on the mentioned firing.
“Bah.” Mrs. Cross looked so disgusted Tessa thought she might spit on the hallway carpet. “Apparently, Nathaniel’s accusing her of killing Artemis.”
Tessa felt like there was an opportunity here, but she had to think fast. She started speaking slowly and picked up steam as the idea coalesced. "Um, you know, if Lark thinks she was wrongfully terminated, the law office I work for may be interested in hearing about the case."
Mrs. Cross leaned more heavily on her cane and peered at Tessa, who tried to keep her face from revealing the lie. “You work for a lawyer?” The wrinkles on her forehead were even deeper than usual.
“That’s right. I’m a paralegal.” Tessa swallowed hard, steeled herself, and lifted the badge, hoping fervently that it would show appropriate credentials for a paralegal. Would the magic work if Tessa wasn’t using it for an actual reap? And if she was lying for personal gain?
