The Reaper Within

by Stephanie Jackson

  Michelle looked at Mel and Jack, and Mel realized that the woman had seen them kissing and thought she was interrupting them. Michelle had the good southern grace to be embarrassed about it.

  “No, you’re fine. We were just…you’re fine,” she looked down at Michelle’s wedge heels and asked the question she was dreaded the answer to. “Michelle, would you mind telling me where you got your shoes?”

  “These things? I got them at Marshalls.”

  “Yep, that’s where I got mine too,” Mel said.

  “They were on sale for 50% off; but I gotta tell ya, if I’d known I was gonna die in them, I never would have bought them. They’re killing my feet, and I can’t take the damn things off. I’m pretty sure they were manufactured by Nazis.”

  Jack laughed quietly, but Mel ignored him.

  “Michelle, what year is it?”

  “Well, it’s 2006, of course.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right. Please tell me you know how you died.”

  “Nope, I just remember being really cold.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Mel said and held out her hands to the woman. “Come on, I’ll cross you over.”

  Michelle hurried down the hall to her. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. If I can just take these shoes off on the other side, that’ll be Heaven enough for me.”

  Michelle took Mel’s hands, and Mel reaped her. Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Betty. The call went straight to voicemail.

  “So that’s what you do for a living?”

  “In a nutshell,” she said hurrying down the hall to her computer.

  “Is there a problem?” Jack asked.

  She pulled up the Memphis Missing Persons Database and typed in Michelle’s name. Her picture immediately popped up on the screen.

  Michelle Brighton had been a twenty-four year old dental hygienist that had been reported missing on August 12th of 2006. She’d been thought to have gone missing from a local nature trail where she liked to jog after work.

  “Not in those shoes,” Mel murmured.

  They thought she’d gone missing from there, because her car had been found there. When friends and family told the police about Michelle’s jogging habits, the natural conclusion had been that she’d been jogging when she disappeared. She had yet to be located, and no body had been recovered.

  Jack leaned over and put one hand on the table and one on the back of the chair. “Mel, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s nothing that you can help…” his long sleeved shirt had fallen open when he’d leaned over, and Mel could see something on his hip that she hadn’t been able to see before.

  Something Angie had said to her at the diner before she’d taken the job popped back into her mind. It hadn’t occurred to her until now, because it hadn’t been an issue. The matter had been resolved.

  She pulled her eyes away from the badge clipped to Jack’s hip and looked up at him. “You’re not Jack Roday.”

  “I’m pretty sure I am.”

  “You can’t be. You were found.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jack, you were a missing person for awhile, but you turned up a couple of months later when you sent your sister a telegram.”

  She entered Jack’s name into the database, and the old missing persons report popped up on the screen. Jack Roday had been reported missing by MPD on February 11th of 1993 when he hadn’t turned up for a court hearing he was supposed to have testified at that morning. His car had never been found. He’d been twenty-eight years old.

  Jack read the whole report, and then pushed away from the desk. “That’s just ridiculous. They closed my case based on a telegram? Who does that? And why in the hell would I send my sister a telegram? Why wouldn’t I have just called her?”

  “I don’t know. I mean in 1993, a lot of people were still sending telegrams. Western Union offered telegram services up until 2006. I remember seeing the news story about them stopping the service after 145 years.”

  “Even so, you should never close a case based on a telegram. There’s no proof that the missing person is the one who actually sent it. It’s that kind of incompetence that made me want to…”

  “Leave the Memphis Police Department?” Mel finished for him. “Yeah, and everybody at the Memphis PD knew that. That’s why when you sent that telegram saying that you just wanted to get away from the Memphis PD, they just took it as gospel.”

  “Still I can’t believe my sister would have bought it. Why would she do that?”

  “Let’s find out,” she said and went back to Theresa Gilroy’s Facebook page to see if her phone number is on her profile page. It was.

  “I’m going to call her. If you so much as open your mouth, I’ll hang up the phone. I know that Betty can hear you, so there’s a pretty good chance that your sister could too. If she hears your voice, it’s going to give her false hope. So stay quiet?” Jack nodded.

  She input a code that would make her call register on Theresa’s phone as ‘Restricted’; she didn’t want Jack’s sister to be able to call her back, and then dialed the number. She left the phone on speaker so Jack could hear the conversation. The least she could do was let him hear his sister’s voice.

  It rang twice, and then a woman answered the phone. “Hello.”

  “This is Sheila Baker calling from the Memphis Police Department. I’m looking for Theresa Gilroy.”

  “You got her.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m calling in reference to an old missing persons report for Jack Roday. I see here that he was reported as found, and I was wondering if you had a phone number where we might be able to contact him.”

  “This is a fucking joke, right? I call you people every month to remind you that I haven’t heard from my brother since I got that goddamned telegram, but nobody wants to listen to me. And now you’re calling me asking if I have his phone number?”

  “Do you think that your brother is missing again, ma’am?”

  “No, I’m telling you that my brother has never been found since he was reported missing the first damn time. Jack would have never sent me a telegram. What I’m telling you is that I believe my brother is dead. It’s the same thing I’ve been telling you fucking people for the last twenty goddamned years!”

  “Ma’am I was just…”

  “Stop calling me ma’am and listen to me for once. My…brother…is…dead! Now don’t call me again with anymore bullshit until you people are willing to search for his body! Until then, kiss my ass!”

  Theresa hung up, leaving Mel to stare at the phone in shock. “What a lovely woman, your sister.”

  Jack collapsed on the bed in laughter. Mel watched him until he finished and sat up.

  “Theresa was never usually one to cuss,” he said wiping his eyes.

  “Really? I would never have guessed that in a million years.”

  “I said ‘usually’. She the nicest woman you could ever be around until you get her riled up. Then she would unleash on you. It was always a site to see.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed the call, but it wasn’t much help.”

  “It brings me comfort to know that my sister didn’t just give up on me. Other than that, what were you looking to gain?”

  “I’m looking for anything that might give me a clue to what’s going on in this house.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean every one of the ghosts that was in this house fit the time frame of them dying in the late 80’s to early 90’s. Even you fit in with that. On top of that, everyone that I’ve crossed over that could tell me their name has been reported as a missing person.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I gave Betty three of their names; and she looked them up and found them in the Missing Persons database. And I looked up Michelle and you. I’m willing to bet that every ghost in this house is a missing person. Even the previous owner of the house was reported missing. It just doesn’t make any se
nse that they’d all be drawn here.”

  The phone rang. It was Betty. She answered it and left the speaker on.

  “Sorry about that. I was up all night after that freaky phone call where you had me talk to a ghost, and I was starting to feel sleepy, so I took a quick cold shower to wake myself up. That’s where I was when you called. What’d you need?”

  “I needed you to look up another person for me, but I went ahead and did it myself.”

  “And?” Betty asked.

  “And it was another missing person by the name of Michelle Brighton.”

  She heard keys rattling on the other end of the phone and knew that Betty was looking the name up on her own computer.

  “Mel, this one didn’t happen in the 80’s or the 90’s. This woman didn’t turn up missing until…”

  “August of 2006, I know. But I don’t have any of the fancy programs you use to find out anything else on my computer.”

  “I don’t know what I would be looking for, Mel.”

  “Look to see if any of the victims shared any known associates,” Jack said. “And then run a cross check to see if any of the victims frequented the same areas”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds before Betty spoke again. “Uh…Mel is that…”

  “The dead guy?” Jack asked. “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “Betty, I’d like you to meet Jack Roday. He was also listed as a missing person. And as it turns out, he was also a Missing Person Detective for the Memphis Police Department.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” Betty said nervously. “Uh…condolences.”

  Jack smiled, “Thanks, Betty.”

  “Mel, why is Jack still there? Haven’t you found a way to cross him over yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Have you tried touching him again?”

  The memory of their kiss blazed through her head. “Yeah…we’ve touched. Nothing happened.”

  “Really? Nothing?” Jack asked. “Because I thought I felt the ground move a little.”

  Mel kicked him to shut him up. The last thing she needed was for Betty to know she’d made out with a ghost. She’d never hear the end of how she needed to find a real, live boyfriend. She wouldn’t be able to make Betty understand that Jack was different than the other ghosts to her, or how much she’d come to like him.

  “What do you mean by ‘frequented the same areas’, Jack?” Betty asked.

  “It means did they work together, or eat at the same restaurants, go to the same gym? Did they do their laundry at the same place? Anything that would put the victims in a centralized location. If you can find a place like that, that’s likely where you’re going to find the perpetrator as well.”

  “Okay, let me have a look and get back to you.”

  Betty disconnected the call leaving the room in an uncomfortable kind of silence.

  “Well,” Mel said. “There’s nothing else we can do about this little mystery until she calls back. Until then, let’s go see if we can reap some souls.”

  Chapter Five

  “So, about what you did for Michelle Brighton?” Jack asked an hour later when they were in the attic.

  “What about it?”

  “Is that what you’re going to do to me, too?”

  “If I can figure out a way to do it, yeah.”

  “And if you can’t figure out a way, what then? You leave and I stay here just popping in and out of existence for all eternity?”

  “No, it doesn’t work that way. Once I agree to take a job, I can’t leave until I’ve reaped every soul in the building.”

  “You’re that dedicated to finishing a job that you stay no matter how long it takes?”

  “No, I mean I literally can’t leave. Even if I wanted to leave here right now, I couldn’t. If the house caught on fire, I still wouldn’t be able to get out. Some force seals me in until I’ve completed my work here.”

  “So right now you’re as trapped as the ghosts?”

  “Yep,” she said, looking into one of the empty rooms and then closing the door.

  “Is that why you’re uncomfortable kissing me? Not just because I’m dead, but because you’re the one that’s ultimately going to have to reap my soul?”

  “Yep,” she said peeking into another room.

  The attic didn’t seem to be much of a draw for the souls in the house. Most of the activity seemed to be on the first two floors of the house.

  “So it’s not me personally that you don’t like. That’s comforting, I guess. If I was alive, would you go out with me?”

  “No, probably not.”

  “Can I ask why not?”

  “I don’t really date that much. I’m on the road a lot, and what I do for a living really isn’t conducive to a social life. It’s easier just to avoid the matter all together.”

  “You have to have somebody. You’re a beautiful young woman. It’s not healthy for you to be alone all the time. You have to have some kind of sex life.”

  “I didn’t say that I don’t have a sex life. I just said I don’t date. There are a couple of guys I know that have about the same amount of time as I do for a social life. When I’m in need of sex, I just call them. If one of them is in town, then we hook up.”

  He frowned at her. “Sex buddies.”

  She nodded. “Pretty much. It’s a good arrangement for all of us. There’s no emotional attachment, and everyone gets what they want.”

  “Are they in the same line of work as you?”

  “In one form or another,” she said. “Chris is a paranormal investigator, and Dave is a cleanser. He comes into a house and performs a blessing after all the spirits are out.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  “No, but a lot of people feel better if there’s a blessing done to keeps the spirits from returning.”

  “Does it work?”

  “If I’m the one that got the spirits out of the house, then it works every time, because those souls were never coming back anyway. But some of the time just the cleansing alone is enough to get a ghost out of the home; if the living believes that it will work, and the ghost is a particularly weak one.

  “It’s a power of the mind kind of thing. Anyway, Chris and Dave travel around the country as much as I do; so the arrangement we have works out well for everyone,” she explained and looked over at him. “Why are you still frowning at me?”

  “I don’t like the idea of you having a sex buddy, much less two of them. Mel, there’s supposed to be an emotional attachment when you have sex with someone,” he said, grasping her elbow and turning her to face him. “That’s the whole point of making love.”

  “I didn’t say we make love. All we do is fu…”

  The lights dimmed again, and Jack vanished.

  “Well, that’s just getting annoying.”

  Thunder crashed outside just as she started to head back down the stairs. It looked like it was going to be a stormy night. Maybe the atmosphere would bring any remaining ghosts out of the wood work so she could finish this job and get the hell out of here before she formed a closer emotion bond with Jack than she already had. She could only hope.

  ***

  It was dark outside, and the storm was rattling the windows, when Jack came back. She was sitting at the kitchen island eating chicken salad and crackers when he walked through the side door of the room.

  “There you are,” he said.

  “Here I am,” she agreed. “I’m getting a little tired of you disappearing all the time.”

  “Yeah, you and me both.”

  He reached for one of her crackers, but she slapped his hand away. “No, none for you.”

  “Why not?”

  She told him about the mess he’d made when he vanished this morning after having coffee and a bite of Pop-Tart.

  “That’s gross,” he said.

  “The gross part was cleaning it up.”

  “You could have left it there. I would have cleaned it up when
I came back.”

  “If you came back,” she said. “There is no guarantee that you’ll keep coming back. I don’t know what’s holding you here like this, but every time you vanish could be the last time I ever see you.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  Mel had thought of it. It bothered her to think that he could just disappear and never come back. She didn’t like the idea of reaping his soul, but she liked the idea of him just vanishing even less.

  At least if she crossed him over herself it would give her some kind of closure. The fact that she needed that was kind of messed up. She had just met Jack. She shouldn’t feel the need for any closure.

  “That would make things easier for you. Then you wouldn’t have to find a way to reap my soul.”

  “Yeah,” she said and slid a chicken salad topped cracker across the island to him.

  “Really?”

  “Sure, go ahead, just don’t drink anything and it should be easy to clean up.”

  He gobbled up the cracker and reached for another one.

  “Hungry, huh?”

  “Starving, I feel like I haven’t eaten in…”

  “Twenty years?” she finished for him.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  The phone rang. Mel pulled it out of her pocket, answered it, and sat in on the counter.

  “Are you there, Jack?”

  “I’m here, Betty. What did you find?”

  “Zip, absolutely zero. There wasn’t a whole lot in the records that I could find, and nothing that linked all the missing to any one location. The only link I found was between two of the victims,” Betty said. “Mel, pull up the email I sent you about the first three victims you had me research.”

  She did as she was asked and pulled up the three missing person reports that Betty had sent. Jack came and stood behind her so that he could see what she was looking at.

  “Okay, I’m looking at them now,” she said scrolling through the screens.

  “The only connection I found was between Rosie and Annie Mai.”

  “Wait,” Jack said. “I know these people.”

  Mel looked over her shoulder at him. “Well, you should. You’ve just spent the last twenty years sharing a house with them.”