Soul Insurance

by Glenn Bullion

  The women laughed, and Isabel stood up. "Well, if you're gonna sleep together, you should be clean. I'll show you where the main bathroom is."

  Brooke offered Connor the shower first. She sat in the bedroom across from the bathroom. Isabel joined her, fresh sheets and towels under her arm. She stood in the doorway and stared at Brooke, who looked away nervously.

  "I'm sorry," Isabel said, joining her on the bed. "It's just that your new look will take some getting used to."

  "Believe me, I know. I keep looking in the mirror and thinking it's someone else. I wasn't quite this…beautiful before."

  "Beauty goes with the soul, Brooke, so you've always been beautiful."

  She thought of Connor's parents. "I'm not sure I'd say that."

  Isabel surprised her with a hug. "It's great to have you back."

  "It doesn't really feel like I left. But we're into some trouble, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around how it happened. I mean somehow, as a soul, I caused all this. I got Connor into this."

  "We'll figure it out, but I wouldn't worry about him. I get the feeling he'd follow you anywhere."

  Brooke rolled her eyes. "It figures. I get a hot body, and everything changes."

  Isabel patted her shoulder. "I don't think that's what happened."

  "Yeah, me neither."

  "Uh, excuse me," Connor said. They both looked up to see him standing in the hallway, wearing nothing but a towel. "You don't happen to have some shorts or something, do you?"

  "Wow. Hot stuff," Brooke said, smiling.

  Connor laughed. "You said the same thing when you first flew in my apartment."

  "I'll bet I did."

  Isabel rose to her feet. "I'm sure I've got something. But are you sure you don't want to sleep in my room?"

  Brooke crossed her arms. "Isabel!"

  "Hey, now, it was worth a shot." She left the room and disappeared down the hall.

  "The shower's all yours," Connor said.

  "Thank you." She grabbed his arm as they crossed paths in the hall. "Connor, listen…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you into this mess. I guess even as a soul, I'm not very smart."

  He simply smiled. "You're the smartest person I know. We're friends, and I'll look out for you."

  She watched him as he went into the bedroom and set a pillow on the floor. She was tempted to make an offer of sharing the bed, but wasn't sure if Connor would keep his hands to himself.

  She also wasn't sure she'd stop him if he tried anything.

  *****

  Connor stared at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. The only light came from an alarm clock behind him. He tried to ignore the voices outside, but they were quiet one moment and loud the next.

  Brooke tossed and turned in bed. She beat the pillow and threw off the sheets, only to grab them again a minute later.

  "Can't sleep?"

  "No," Brooke said. "I'm not sure if I'll ever sleep again."

  "I know what you mean."

  "I'm sure that floor's not very comfortable."

  "It's actually not bad. It's the four souls playing in Isabel's pool that are keeping me up."

  "You hear them all the time? You can't turn it off?"

  He sighed. "Nope."

  "If you promise not to get all sexy, you can sleep in the bed. Maybe it will help."

  "I'll try to keep my sexiness to myself."

  Connor slid into bed next to Brooke, who gave him plenty of room. He still felt awkward wearing the pink shorts Isabel lent him.

  "I can't stop thinking," she said.

  "About what?"

  "Everything. Amber, that warehouse, this new body, whoever is trying to kill us."

  "Is the plan still the same? Go to your boss for help?"

  "I can't think of anything else."

  "Alright. I know it doesn't help much, but I'm right with you."

  Brooke said nothing, and the silence stretched between them. Connor thought she'd fallen asleep until she spoke again.

  "Did something happen between us when I was a soul?"

  Connor shifted uncomfortably. "Come on, now. What can possibly happen between a living person and a soul?"

  "You tell me."

  "I'd love to, but I'm just too tired. I need to sleep."

  "You were wide awake ten seconds ago."

  He faked a snore, which drew a laugh from Brooke. She playfully shoved him before turning on her side. His deflection was successful, as she didn't bring up the question again. Over the next ten minutes Brooke's breathing grew deeper and louder before she let out a genuine snore of her own. Connor smiled as he listened to her sleep. He was twenty minutes behind her as exhaustion finally took over.

  The sun was up when he was roused from sleep. Isabel stood over him, shaking his shoulder. In the middle of the night Brooke had inched closer to him, and slept soundly with an arm across his chest.

  "Get up," she said, reaching over to grab Brooke's shoulder. "You both have to see this."

  They followed Isabel down the hall. She pointed to the stairs leading to the first floor and put a finger to her lips.

  "I've got people cleaning downstairs. Keep your voice down."

  She led them to her bedroom, which was nearly the size of Connor's apartment. A large TV was mounted on the wall across from the bed, showing the local news. Connor's jaw dropped when he saw his own picture, an old photo taken a few years ago in his apartment. Brooke was in a photo next to him, sitting on a bench at a park. The pictures faded away to reveal Brooke, the old Brooke, with her auburn hair and glasses. She posed with Amber outside a nightclub.

  They were wanted in connection with a break-in at a cryo-factory in the city, and for the murder of Brooke Martin.

  "I don't believe this," Brooke said. "I murdered myself? And what's with that picture?"

  "Obviously a fake," Connor said. "This is not good."

  She looked at him in disbelief as a commercial came on. "You think?" she said sarcastically.

  Connor leaned against the wall. "How do they know? How do they know you are you?"

  "Even more important," Isabel said. "Who are they?"

  "What do we do?" Brooke asked. "We can't exactly go out wandering around now, with our faces all over the news. Isabel's right, we don't even know who's after us."

  "We need help," Connor said. A far-fetched idea formed in his mind. "We need to find out who that man was in the warehouse, the one in charge of everything."

  "And how do we do that?"

  "Do you have a computer?" he asked Isabel.

  She nodded. "In the bedroom at the end of the hall."

  Connor ran a few searches while Brooke and Isabel watched over his shoulder. He struggled to remember a few names he'd heard over the past year, but it came back to him. He borrowed Isabel's phone and called several people in Minnesota with the last name of Searcy, each of them being wrong numbers.

  "Uh, Connor?" Brooke asked. "What are you doing?"

  "Trying to find an old friend."

  "By calling random people?"

  His hope dwindled as he called the latest number. A woman with a sweet voice answered the phone.

  "Hello, is this Diane Searcy?"

  "Yes. Who is this?"

  "Did you have a brother named Ryan, who drowned two years ago?"

  She didn't say no, or hang up the phone. There was a long, tense pause before she spoke again.

  "Who are you?"

  Connor's hopes finally lifted. "Are you pregnant? If not, you need to listen. You have a soul in your home that's been hanging out there a lot lately. I know it sounds weird, but he probably doesn't leave when you and your husband have sex, either. I need you to talk to that soul, tell him that Connor needs him. Please, can you do that—?"

  Diane hung up.

  "I don't know what you're trying to do," Isabel said. "But it looks like it didn't go well. I don't think many conversations do when you talk about a strange couple having sex."

  Connor stood from the desk
and faced Brooke and Isabel. Brooke was looking to him for a plan, and he didn't have one. He could try to reach Ryan again later, but they needed to do something.

  "Okay, we have to—"

  He trailed off when he noticed new shadows in the room. Brooke and Isabel stared at a spot over his shoulder. He turned to see a soul floating next to the desk, flickering slightly.

  "Dude, was that you that just called my sister and made her drop her cereal all over the floor?"

  Connor smiled. "Ryan."

  "In the flesh. That's not cool, man."

  "Sorry, but I had to get you here, if you were still here. I guess the getting pregnant thing isn't going so well."

  "You guessed right, and it's not gonna get any better, thanks to you. My sister is chasing her husband around the house now, asking which one of his punk friends is Connor so she can kill him."

  "So, they're not having sex?"

  "Oh, they're having sex. The most disgusting, vile sex two people can have, and I have to be one room away for all of it. I don't see it, but I hear it, and oh man. Let me ask you something. If you're married and trying to have a kid, do you really involve handcuffs and blindfolds—?"

  Connor cut him off by laughing. Brooke and Isabel only looked at each other. Brooke smiled along with him, but Isabel impatiently put her hands on her hips.

  "Hey," she said. "Do you want to fill us in on the conversation here?"

  Ryan moved next to Connor, staying by his side. "Indeed, Connor. Fill me in. Who are these two lovely creatures, that obviously know you can talk to spirits?"

  "I'm sorry. This is Ryan, a good friend of mine. Ryan, this is Isabel and Brooke."

  Brooke smiled. "Pleased to meet you."

  Ryan moved closer to Brooke before pulling away. "Brooke? Yummy Brooke? The girl with the glasses you kicked out of your apartment? The one who killed your parents?"

  "She didn't kill my parents. Mike Burns—"

  "Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean, her old life. What the hell happened? She went from yummy to delicious."

  "Hey," Connor said, standing in front of Brooke protectively. She put her hands on his shoulders. "Come on, Ryan."

  "And you like her! Holy dog-crap, Connor finally likes a woman. It's okay, I can stare at this beautiful woman next to you guys."

  Connor looked over his shoulder at Brooke, his face red. "I'm so sorry."

  She giggled. "It's okay. It's not like I can hear what he's saying."

  Ryan flew around Isabel for a moment. She laughed, but quickly grew serious and glanced at Connor. "So, what's the plan here?"

  "Ryan, I need your help. Brooke and I need your help."

  "With what?"

  He told Ryan what had happened to him since he'd left. How he met Brooke, how they became friends over the past month, and how her best friend was involved in body-theft. He told Ryan how, by pure chance, they were able to resurrect Brooke's soul in a new body, and people were chasing them because of that.

  It was the third time he'd told the story in the past twelve hours, and he was exhausted when he finished. Isabel sat in a chair in the corner, Connor and Brooke in a love-seat against the wall, and Ryan hovered over the chair at the computer. Ryan was quiet, and Connor waited patiently for his input.

  "You fell for Brooke, when she was a soul, didn't you?" he said. "And she doesn't remember none of that. Man, that's just crazy. I think you're safe, though. She keeps looking at you."

  Connor turned red once again and glanced at Brooke. She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "That's not really important right now."

  "Well, dude, what do you want me to do?"

  "You know half the souls in town. Someone must know something."

  "Yeah, but all you can give me is a bald guy in a suit and a warehouse. I need a little more than that."

  He sat up straighter as a name popped in his head. "Kara. The woman from last night, who was in the warehouse. Her name is Kara. Her daughter is dying from cancer."

  "Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. If I can find her, maybe I can find him."

  "Thanks, Ryan. I really appreciate this."

  "That's what friends are for. Besides, you always give purpose to my afterlife. I'm gonna go do some poking around. I'll check in later."

  Ryan flew up, passing through the ceiling. The room was quiet as Connor tried to gather his thoughts.

  "That might have been the strangest thing I've ever seen," Isabel said.

  Brooke stood up and paced the room. "What do we do?"

  "We wait, for now. Our pictures are all over the news. I don't know—"

  "Uh, excuse me. Miss Isabel?"

  They looked to the new voice at the doorway. A young man shyly poked his head into the computer room, carrying a trash bin and a bottle of cleaning spray.

  "I don't mean to bug you, but two policemen are at the door."

  Isabel rolled her eyes and marched across the room. "Michael, how many times do I have to tell you? It's just Isabel. Miss makes me sound old. I'm only twenty-one."

  "Yes, Miss…Just Isabel."

  Isabel paused before leaving the room, eying both Connor and Brooke, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Stay here."

  She closed the door behind her, and Connor immediately felt uneasy.

  "She called the police on us."

  Brooke shook her head. "No. She wouldn't do that."

  "Then what are they doing here?"

  "I don't know. But Isabel's my friend. She took us in, gave us clothes and a place to sleep."

  He wanted to bring up her friend Amber, but kept quiet. He slowly cracked open the door and peered out to the hall. It was empty, but he heard voices downstairs at the front door.

  "Come on in," Isabel said. "Do you want something to drink? Soda? Tea? Excuse the guys walking around, just going through some cleaning."

  "No, thank you, ma'am."

  "Please, don't call me ma'am. Just Isabel."

  Connor looked over his shoulder to see Brooke listening along with him, their faces only inches apart. Her eyes weren't as confident as they were a moment ago.

  "Then why is she letting them in the house?"

  Brooke had no answer. "Maybe we'd better go."

  As Connor slowly opened the door he realized they had nowhere to go. They had no car, no place they could lay low. There were thick woods behind Isabel's house that ran the length of the street. That would have to be their first stop.

  They were halfway down the hall when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He grabbed Brooke's hand and pulled her into the closest empty bedroom, hiding behind the door. Another of Isabel's cleaning people strolled by. Connor waited until he disappeared down the hall before stepping out into the open once again.

  "Where are we going?" Brooke whispered.

  "We'll sneak out through the front door and circle the house. We'll hit the woods behind this place."

  "Don't you have any friends we could stay with?"

  He reflected on the question a moment. "Sadly, no. Just you."

  They were exposed as they walked down the stairs, but they had no other choice. Connor kept a tight grip on Brooke's hand. There were voices coming from somewhere around the corner, a mix of Isabel's and several men, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. The foyer at the bottom of the stairs was empty. As the front door came into view, a shadow flashed by the front steps.

  Connor tugged on Brooke's hand, pulling her away from the door and deeper into the house. They ducked into a room with a grand piano as yet another cleaning person walked through the front door.

  "How many people clean this place?" Connor asked.

  "Well, it is a big house."

  He took a step into the hall and ran right into Isabel. The beautiful woman let out a startled cry, and grabbed her chest while clutching Connor by the shoulder. She was no physical threat, but he stood in between Isabel and Brooke regardless.

  "Are you okay, Isabel?" someone asked from around the corner.

  "Oh, I'm fine. J
ust me being clumsy. I'll be right in."

  She pushed Connor back into the piano room, and he let her. Brooke kept her hand locked on Connor's shoulder, reassuring him she was with him. Isabel put a finger to his lips and motioned to keep quiet.

  "They're in the dining room," she said.

  Connor had misjudged Isabel. She truly was looking out for them. "Are they here for us?"

  "Yes. I'm an associate of Brooke's, and they're here checking to see if you've stopped by."

  He shook his head. "This doesn't make any sense."

  "Well, figure it out later." She reached into her pocket. "This is all I've got in the house," She handed over five one-hundred dollar bills. "Here's the key to the Lexus in the garage."

  Brooke reached out and hugged Isabel. "Thank you."

  "You can thank me later. The garage is just at the end of this hall. You're gonna have to pass by the dining room doorway, and they're right there. Give me a minute to get their attention."

  Isabel left them alone, returning to the dining room. Connor leaned close to Brooke and lowered his voice.

  "Something's not right here."

  "Not with Isabel. She's helping us."

  "I know. I don't mean with her. But something's off."

  They both jumped as a loud crash came from the dining room. Brooke grabbed Connor's hand and led the way. "I guess that's our cue."

  They quickly tiptoed down the hallway. Connor stole a glimpse of the dining room as they passed by, and saw two policemen kneeling down next to Isabel, who had dropped a glass to the floor. Her cleavage spilled out of her shirt, and the policemen's attention wandered between the floor and Isabel.

  "Oh, I'm so clumsy," she announced. "Truth be told, I'm actually a senior citizen. I died not long ago, and I'm still getting used to this new body."

  "It's, uh, a very lovely body, ma'am."

  "There you go again. Just Isabel."

  Connor expected something to happen as they approached the door to the garage. A voice behind them, another of Isabel's employees catching them from another room, anything at all. He finally let out a breath as he opened the garage door, pushing Brooke ahead of him.

  He took a second to admire the six cars parked before him.

  "Whoa."

  Brooke moved around him and opened the driver's door to the Lexus, which was in between a brand new Jeep Wrangler and a BMW.