Jeepers Reapers: There Goes My Midlife Crisis

by Marianne Morea

  I went up the stairs to the front door, but when I got to the top of the stoop, I turned, flipping the bird to whomever or whatever watched.

  Inside, I closed the door and locked up for the night. My stomach growled, but I was too tired to eat. It wasn’t late, but every molecule in my body screamed for sleep.

  Tension will do that, and I had all kinds of tension today and no real release. Half of me wanted to knock on Cade’s door with a Keepers with Benefits indecent proposal. No strings attached. Just release.

  Upstairs, I paused at the light under his door like I did the night before. Did that qualify me for membership in the middle-aged and desperate club? Not quite. Not when one phone call would put Marcus between my sheets. Not that I’d go there.

  Still, it was nice to have options. Marcus was never great in bed, but plenty of women my age agreed bad sex was better than no sex. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of them. If I’m shaving every inch of my body to hazard slapping jiggly bits about the bed, then it better end with a bang. As in body quivering, colors crashing, toe curling bang. Otherwise, why bother?

  I closed my bedroom door, and stripped out of my clothes. Standing naked in front of my cheval mirror, I took inventory of my curves. Had certain things gone south? Of course. You don’t get to forty without a little wear and tear, unless you’re a celebrity with a personal trainer and live-in nutritionist. Either that, or you have military style discipline over what you eat and how you move your body. Like most people, I was neither.

  Still, I liked my curves. Like I said. Seasoned, not sagging. Plus, I knew my body. Knew what I liked and what I didn’t. Ten years of bad marriage will do that.

  I dug for a nightie, slipping it over my head. Turning in the mirror, I let the light hit the white cotton, liking how it showed every curve underneath in soft silhouette.

  My nipples were hard beneath the thin fabric. The reason? Cade. The heat of promise and the tease of proximity ignited a want like I’d never known. The man made me wet without a single touch, and I swear a single finger along the seam of my jeans would’ve sent me over the edge.

  I spared a glance for my night table, and the toy waiting at a hand’s reach, but a loud battery-operated buzz through thin walls was not something I wanted to advertise. Plus, I didn’t need Alistair popping through the wall uninvited.

  The ghost box was on my dresser. Cade must’ve brought it upstairs at some point. It was best he did, or Thea would’ve inspected every inch to test her vibrations.

  She should’ve gotten home by now. I bent to fish for my phone in my pants pocket on the floor, relieved to see Thea had texted. She was home and okay. Good. Plus, it seemed she didn’t remember a thing.

  I wished I could say the same. Still, tomorrow was another day. A day for questions and answers in Angelica’s office.

  Sitting on the bed, I rummaged in my nightstand for a pad and pen. I needed to collect my thoughts. Like my Italian mother used to say. Uomo avvisato. Mezzo salvato. Rough translation? Forewarned is forearmed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “HOW DID YOU LET this happen?” Angelica lost her usual equanimity, and paced behind her desk. “This is a rookie mistake, Cade. Something I’d expect from anyone else but you.”

  He went to answer, but I stopped him. “Angelica, stop pacing and listen!” She shot me a look, but at least her black and white spectator stilettos stopped wearing a hole in the carpet.

  “I know you’re upset, but I’m the one with a spirit chained to my hip like I’m Jacob Marley from A Christmas Carol.”

  She cracked a smile at that, letting it slip to a tolerant smirk. “Fine. Talk.”

  “In a perfect world, you’d be there to escort each departed soul into their holding pattern until a Keeper is assigned, but we don’t live in a perfect world. Shit happens. And that’s what happened with Alistair.”

  The ghost looked up at his name, but didn’t move from the far corner of the room. I’d never seen Alistair so intimidated.

  Angelica wasn’t impressed. “Perfect scenarios or not, there is a reason ghosts don’t follow Keepers home. We. Do. Not. Engage!” Her hand hit the desk.

  “Wow,” I said. “Feel better now?”

  Angelica’s mouth actually dropped. She leaned on the edge of her desk, unamused, and Cade groaned at that, sinking farther into the white leather office couch.

  “Well?” Angelica replied, crossing her arms at her chest. “You must have something interesting to add, or you wouldn’t be that rude.”

  “Alistair deserves to have someone take him through his journey that knows what they’re doing.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And I assume this tether isn’t going anywhere. Even if he renounces it.”

  “Correct.”

  “Then assign a Keeper to take the lead. I’ll be there because I have to, but do what’s right by the ghost in our charge. It’s not just on me. This is on you and Memento Mori as well.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she considered. “I was going to say shit rolls downhill, but I can’t disagree with your suggestion.”

  “Good. My guess is your do not engage rule is easy to apply when Keepers cross paths with random ghosts. Spirits they can let fade into the noise of the day. That wasn’t the case with me, and I could hedge my guess even further, and say if you look at all other instances of ghosts tethering themselves to a Keeper, you’ll find in each instance the Keeper and the ghost knew each other personally.”

  She sat, resting her elbows on the desk so she could temple her fingers. I nearly rolled my eyes at the move, but I had pushed the disrespect envelope far enough.

  “That’s quite a hypothesis.”

  “I’m a research librarian, Angelica. It’s my job to find connections.”

  Her hands folded flat, and she eyed me. “While you’re connecting your dots, find some to help your charge.”

  “But you just said—”

  She cut me off, lifting her hand. “Cade will take the lead since he’s been involved from the beginning. You will take notes. The both of you need to head west. I think the best thing for this case is to change its venue.”

  “By west, do you mean 12th Avenue?”

  Her forehead wrinkled for a moment. “No, I mean west. As in Red Rock Canyon in Arizona. Or the Grand Canyon. Your pick.”

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  Her brow shot up to her hairline. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not boarding a plane with a ghost. Have you seen the Final Destination movies?”

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “It’s creepy, Angelica. I have enough trouble dodging reapers right here in Manhattan. I can’t go five blocks without getting hot flashes, something you conveniently forgot to warn me about. So no thanks. If this audit requires a giant hole in the ground, I can drive to Niagara Falls. At least the spray will neutralize any inferno-fest that follows.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Was the Angel of Death purposely being obtuse or wasn’t I clear? “Hot flashes. Like the kind human women get when they reach a certain age. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

  “I know what hot flashes are, Louisa. What does your physiology have to do with the situation at hand?”

  Cade finally piped up. “It doesn’t. It has to do with Louisa as a Keeper. In particular when she crosses paths with reapers.”

  Angelica looked between us utterly dumfounded.

  “You really have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  At a loss, Angelica spread her hands.

  “Okay then. At least you not giving me a heads up wasn’t an oversight, or a cruel joke.”

  Her face was as astonished as it was taken aback. “Why in heaven’s name would you think I’d partake in cruelty of any kind?”

  I regretted the comment immediately. “I didn’t mean cruel as in cruel, but…” My hand cut across the air ending my verbal fumble. “Forget it. It was stupid.”

  “Indeed.”
r />   I told Angelica everything, and she gave me her full attention, clearly fascinated.

  “Extraordinary.” She sat back, folding her arms loosely at her chest.

  “This really isn’t a common occurrence?” I still couldn’t believe I was the only one.

  “Not only isn’t it common, I’ve never heard of one case, and we’re talking hundreds of thousands of Keepers over time immemorial. We are aware of reapers, but nothing like what you just described.”

  Few if any Keepers could pick a reaper out of a lineup, yet I get super-heated internal lava flows when they get within spitting distance. Yay me.

  I plopped beside Cade on the couch. “So I’m an anomaly, then.”

  “My dear Louisa.” Angelica exhaled, all but wordless. “That fact is becoming clearer by the day.”

  The list I made the night before was still in my pocket, but after the reaper hot flash revelation, it no longer seemed important.

  “There is one more thing I think you should know about.” I swear the Angel of Death nearly cringed, but that’s why they paid her the big bucks.

  “Okay. Tell me.”

  “Last night my friend Thea came over the house. You may recall she was with me that night on my roof.”

  “Go on.”

  I told her about Thea’s strange psychic episode, and then about Emily’s visit.

  Angelica’s face was an impassive mask. “And?”

  “Em was her usual wonderful self. She wasn’t there long. Just enough to warn me.” I told Angelica the message, surprised there wasn’t a flicker on her face as I spoke.

  “I’m not surprised she warned me not to trust too easily. It’s one of her pet peeves about me. I chalk it up to her being over-protective, but in this case I’m grateful she has my back from the great beyond.”

  Angelica looked down at her desk, as if gauging a reply. When she finally looked up, her face was pained but resolute.

  “Emily doesn’t have your back, because that wasn’t Emily.”

  Mouth open, I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “Angelica’s telling you it was a ruse.” Cade put his hand on my back, rubbing between my shoulders. “I guessed it when you said something this morning, but I knew Angelica would know for certain. Reapers live to deceive. It’s their job. Though this took it way too far.”

  Stunned, my stomach knotted, and I shook Cade off. I felt violated. Who could know that much about me?

  “There’s no way Emily could’ve psychically overpowered your friend,” Angelica continued. “She removed herself to limbo the day you first came to see me. She has no access to the physical plane. None.”

  I thought I understood what I was up against, but this was not what I expected. If what they said was true, then how could I trust my own senses? If reapers could mess with me like that, what else were they capable of?

  I looked at Alistair still hanging in the corner by the window, and a thought left my mouth dry. “Can reapers kill?”

  “No,” Angelica answered quickly. “They are forbidden to interfere with the threads of life. In the space between planes? That’s a different story. But no, they cannot kill. Technically, they shouldn’t have been able to use Thea, either.”

  I turned my attention from Alistair back to her at her desk. “So what I’m hearing is: rules are, there are no rules.”

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. It sounds like there’s a rogue reaper on the loose, and that means I have to make a call.”

  “The Grim?” I guessed.

  Angelica nodded. “Or as I call her, Rani. It’s short for Morana.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  Now it was Angelica’s turn for a dismissive wave. “Please. I talk with her at least once a week. Unless she’s pissing me off. Then I leave her on read.” She shrugged. “Sisters fight from time to time. Even the immortal ones.”

  I nearly fell off the couch. “Your SISTER?”

  “Strange, but true.” Angelica snapped her fingers and a tea tray appeared on her desk, and she helped herself to some orange pekoe. “Rani hates that she’s referred to as the Grim, especially since she has a terrific sense of humor. I think you’d like her if you could get past the stereotypes. Just ask Cade.”

  “Maybe I will.” I glanced at him, expecting an eye roll or something, but got fidgeting instead, and it reminded me a little too much of guilty Marcus.

  I shifted closer to the arm of the couch. There was no reason for my sudden peeve, but there it was. Was I attaching emotions that didn’t apply? Maybe. Did it raise a question mark in my head about Cade and the Grim? What do you think?

  Angelica’s fingers drummed the side of her tea cup. Her eyes flicked to Cade, and I knew her antennae had picked up on my body language.

  “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?”

  Cade shook his head, and I didn’t comment. Angelica wasn’t buying it, but at least she didn’t press.

  “Very well. This news about your friend Thea, and her hijacked clairvoyance, is very disturbing.

  “You think?” I couldn’t help my scoff. “It’s dark. It’s ravenous. And it wants what you have. That’s the stuff of nightmares.”

  Angelica eyed me again. “Is there something you have, or think you have, that might be of interest in this situation?”

  “Angelica, enough.” Cade stood from the couch. It was clear he wasn’t happy where this conversation was headed. “You’re putting Louisa on the spot for no reason. There is nothing between us. Is there an attraction? Yes. Have I acted on it? No. No rules have been broken, and no lines have been crossed.”

  Cade’s face was unreadable at this point, and my earlier peeve ratcheted to annoyed. “You know what? I didn’t sign up for this. Whom and what I act upon is my own business. If this psychic tempest in a teapot has something to do with your sister and Cade, you need to tell me now.”

  Angelica put her tea cup on its saucer, and considered me as if choosing her words. “My sister has no claim on Cade. She may wish it otherwise, but there are rules that need to be followed.”

  “That’s funny,” I shot back. “Considering last night’s mindfuck, I’d say your sister needs a refresher course on the rules.”

  “Lou—”

  “No, Cade. I’m not a child, and neither are you. I have no interest in playing games with the Grim, or anyone else. I’ve gone around the game board more times than I cared to with my ex. I’m not doing it again.”

  I got up from my spot on the couch, and stalked to where Alistair perched by the window. “Alistair’s audit journey is my only concern. So I suggest we get to it.”

  Angelica nodded. “Agreed.”

  “I guess it’s Niagara Falls, then. When do we leave?”

  “Not so fast. Maybe heading eight hours away isn’t such a good idea,” Cade argued. “The brownstone is protected.”

  Pfft. “Thea suffered a psychic cyber-attack in my kitchen. So patently not as protected as you thought.”

  Alistair finally moved from the window to stand equidistant between the couch and Angelica’s desk.

  “I don’t want Ms. Jericho in danger. She and I didn’t see eye to eye when I was alive, and I’m mostly to blame for that. The Universe saw fit to throw us together in this afterlife afterparty, and though you said it wouldn’t make a difference, I relinquish my claim on her as my Keeper.”

  Angelica’s face softened at that. “You are well-intentioned, and it is duly noted, but your words didn’t create the anchor. Your fear of the unknown won’t allow the tether to break. Your spirit clings to what is familiar and safe, so Louisa will be with you every step of the way. Cade will guide your audit, but she will be there to ease your journey.”

  He broke down, and fat shiny tears glistened on his graying cheeks. I reached for his shoulder, my hand sliding through icy vapor, but there was no pain. Not like when I held Harry’s paper-knife.

  “Your ectoplasm kind of tickles,” I said with a laugh. Wiggling my
fingers, the motion sent his arm into rippling shimmers.

  “That is very uncomfortable!” He jerked his shoulder away.

  “Really? Because it looks kind of cool.”

  “It feels like a horde of ants marching over my arm.”

  “Ants?” I hiked an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t mean a different kind of squirm? After all, you’re dead. ‘We fat all creatures, else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.’”

  A reluctant half-smirk replaced his pout. “Hamlet. You remembered.”

  “How could I not? You quoted Shakespeare at me every day for the past eight years.”

  Angelica nodded at the interaction, her approval evident. “I can see why you want Louisa’s help. She grounds you, and not because you chose her as your earthly anchor.”

  A pang of regret slashed at that, and I mourned the comradery that could have been, but it was too late. Alistair must’ve felt it too because he vanished.

  “I think it’s time we talked strategy.” Cade gestured to my messenger bag. “Open it.”

  Puzzled, I opened the top flap only to find a hand-tooled leather journal inside. “What’s this?”

  “It’s the Messorem Malleo, or Reaper’s Hammer,” Cade replied. “This is your manual for all things reaper, now that you are on the cusp of leaving level one.”

  “Shit. Esther!” I jerked with the book in my hand for the ghost box on Angelica’s desk. “Cade, we promised.”

  “There’s time enough for Esther,” Angelica assured. “Alistair’s audit journey begins tomorrow, and you need a crash course in what to do in case Cade isn’t around. Things happen when you least expect, so at the very least, it’s important we get to the basics. Namely, events he needs to reexperience.”

  Angelica didn’t need to go into detail. It was pretty clear what the adjudicators meant when they said reexperience. They were looking for growth, more so than remorse, and if Alistair’s visceral reaction to his past merited a fast pass to the next wild ramble.

  “Does Alistair choose which events?”

  “No,” she replied. “The book chooses.” She gestured to the manual in my hand. “Open the cover and flip through the inside.”