We locked eyes, and I stayed silent for a long time, before finally letting a deep breath relax my rigid posture back to normal. “I do. And you need to keep your mouth shut.”
He clamped his lips together and made a sliding gesture over them with his thumb and forefinger. I raised a brow. How long would that last? I shook my head and we both stepped back inside the bar. Chip was exactly as we left him.
“Chip,” I said softly. “Open your eyes.”
He looked at me, blinking rapidly. “Did it come true? My wish?”
“How about you and I go have a seat and talk a bit.”
He nodded and we made our way back to the corner table where he’d been sitting earlier.
* * *
Chip’s expression morphed from hopeful to crestfallen. He had pathetic down to a science. The look of a man who’d lost everything—fallen flat to the ground long ago but was still being kicked. Repeatedly. This was just from telling him I wasn’t a fairy. I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if we’d left him there to fend for himself. What kind of eternity would that be?
“So you can’t grant wishes?”
“No, but I can take you to your afterlife.” I patted his hand and offered what I hoped was a sympathetic expression.
His brow furrowed. “No, no, no!”
I held up both hands. “OK, OK. No pressure.” I took a deep breath, mind reeling as I scrambled for what to say next. True to his word, Sam kept his lips sealed. “Well, why don’t you tell me what happened to you. Maybe I can figure out a way to help.”
Chip hung his head. “They told me if I came to Mardi Gras that Tammy would be here too, and she’d see what a fun guy I am…and maybe she’d even like me.” He twisted his hands together on the table in front of him. “They set it up. We were supposed to meet on the balcony. B-but…but…”
I sensed him getting worked up, so I thought I’d distract him. “Who’s Tammy?”
At the mention of her name, a dreamy, dazed look overtook his features and his cheeks stained pink. For the first time since we’d met him, Chip smiled.
“She’s…amazing.”
“Your girlfriend?” I prodded.
“Boy, I wish.” Chip shook his head. “She had long blonde hair and green eyes, and she was just the sweetest, nicest person I’ve ever met. I just wanted to talk to her. To see if she’d just go out for coffee or a bite to eat. She was always so kind to me.”
His expression soured.
“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.
“Yesterday. Right before I died.”
I leveled an incredulous stare at him. “If you died yesterday, then I’m Mother Teresa.” Ouch, foot in mouth. Sam snorted out a laugh. Chip just looked confused, so I thought I’d clarify. “No really, when did you die?”
“What?” He looked at me, still confused. “I already told you. Yesterday.”
“Do you even know what year it is?”
“1983. Duh.”
“Not a real bright one, is he?”
I twisted my lips to the side to conceal the smile. He might not have been bright, but he was in surprisingly good shape for a ghost who’d been clinging to Earth for three decades.
“He must not have been overly active. Possibly went into a dormant state part of the time.”
That could explain why he had no clue what year it was. Still, it was odd. When I’d first died, I came across a lost—a female ghost who was so deteriorated she was both visibly falling apart and babbling incoherently.
“Could have been a victim of a seance summoning. Or perhaps she’d been expending a lot excess of energy. It sometimes happens when they become fixated on a person or a place.” Sam leaned back in his chair.
So Chip could’ve been randomly appearing during Mardi Gras and sort of hibernating in between?
Sam grunted in agreement. “It would explain why he thinks it was only yesterday that he died.”
“OK, never mind that,” I said. “Chip, can you tell me what happened? Do you remember how you died?” I hoped I wasn’t opening up a whole can of crazy. I’d heard plenty of stories about newly dead people. The weirdest things could set them off, making them uncooperative and impossible to reason with. In class, we learned that coming to terms with one’s death was the first step toward crossing over. In the field, I’d heard, things weren’t always so easy.
“They were gonna set it up. So I could talk to her, and you know. Ask her out.” He swallowed.
“Who?”
“The guys. Jimmy, Marcus, and Ted. They invited me to come. They said Tammy wanted to hang out, and…and…”
“It’s OK. You’re doing a really good job. Go on.”
“She was supposed to meet me on the balcony. I was so nervous, I was shaking like crazy.” He paused and let out a small, sad sounding laugh. “I drank three shots of tequila just to calm myself down—Jimmy said it would help, but I wasn’t much of a drinker, so it almost made me throw up.” He sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped forward. “So I waited for her…and I worried maybe she wouldn’t show up, but then there she was. And she was so beautiful, like an angel.”
His voice shook as he talked, but as he sat there, something shadowy overtook his expression. He ground his fingers into his palms as he balled both of his hands into tight fists.
“What happened?” I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle.
“Jimmy, that’s what happened.” Chip’s eyes darkened with rage. “He…he pantsed me. Right in front of her! He pulled my pants down right in front of Tammy!” Chip pounded his fist on the table. “I backed up, cause I was surprised and in shock, but I didn’t see Ted, crouched on the floor behind me. They did it on purpose, to humiliate me in front of her! But instead of just falling on my ass, like they planned, when I tripped over Ted I…I stumbled around and fell over the railing.”
“And the Darwin award goes to…”
I shot a nasty look at Sam. It’s not like it was Chip’s fault. He was bullied.
“He was bullied because he was an easy target.”
That didn’t make it right. I sighed and shook my head. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Chip. Unfortunately, I can’t change it for you, and I can’t do anything about the men who did this to you.” I chewed my lower lip. “But maybe there’s something I can do. What if you could see Tammy one more time? Without those jerks to ruin it?”
“But she was laughing at me. I just know it. She must think I’m such an idiot.”
“Did you actually see her laughing?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Well, no. I was too busy dying.”
“You did say she was the sweetest, nicest person ever, didn’t you? I bet she wasn’t laughing. She probably felt really bad that this happened to you. Don’t you think she’d like to know how much you cared? Maybe there’s a way we can pass along a message…or…”
“Can I talk to her? Do you think I can? Because if I can talk to her, then I’d be able to move on.”
“Well, I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m not sure if she’d be able to see you or not.”
“But if she can’t see me, how can I talk to her? How can I get her a message? What good are you if I can’t talk to her?” He’d raised his voice and looked to be on the verge of a meltdown. I needed to diffuse it before this situation got out of control.
“I…well, I haven’t figured that out yet. But I will. So don’t worry.” Chip looked skeptical, but I just smiled in return. “You just give me information, like her full name, date of birth, and anything else you remember. We’ll take care of the rest.”
* * *
Sam and I left the pub and navigated the crowds of raucous people. “You’re not seriously considering helping that waste of space, are you?”
I shrugged. Oddly enough, I was considering it. “It wouldn’t be so terrible, would it? It’s not like we need to be anywhere. Maybe the investigation part would be good practice for me.”
“You’re not a detecti
ve, you’re a reaper. Just admit it, you liked the view when he was without pants.” He nudged me with his elbow.
“Please.” I pursed my lips as I thought about it. “I guess I just feel bad for him. I mean, what a horrible way to go. Humiliated in front of the girl he likes, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he dies in the process. Sad.”
“Fine. I’m not going to argue with you. But let me just ask you this. Supposing we do find that woman—what exactly are we supposed to do? We can’t reveal ourselves to her. That goes against regulation. And odds are, she wouldn’t be able to see him. So I ask again, what’s the point?”
I shrugged. “Maybe it’ll allow him some closure. So he’ll want to cross over. You know, like finding the remains of a murdered loved one so a family can bury them and say their goodbyes.”
“You’ve got an overly naive and optimistic view of how much effect this will have on that moron.”
“What was it they said in the training manual: ‘for the greater good of the universe, convincing a lost soul to pass on is the duty of every reaper, should one ever be encountered’?”
“You can quote it word for word. Astounding.” His tone was anything but impressed. “However, that passage was referring to reapers who have experience. Which you do not.”
I stepped closer to him. “But you do.”
He mimicked my pose, his dark eyes challenging mine. “And I’ve got no interest in helping the twitchy little bastard.”
“Is that so? What if I do? You can’t just leave me here. To put it bluntly, I want to learn, and you’re going to fucking help me.” I was not going to back down.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
“Humor me.”
He raised a brow. “All I do is humor you.”
He was giving in; I could feel it.
“You’re an irritating woman, you know that?”
“So where do we start? If we were to investigate the whereabouts of this Tammy woman, what’s the first step?” I leaned against the side of the nearest building, a small cafe with metal tables just outside, and folded my arms.
“Well.” He watched me, his gaze heavy and his expression unreadable. I sensed no anger or irritation coming from him—usually the first sign I’d pushed him too far. He guarded his thoughts from me, but emotions were a different story. I relaxed. “If I was inclined to help, I’d imagine I’d start with city hall in purgatory to see if she’s passed. After all, it has been thirty years. If she hasn’t passed, they’ll likely have a last known address.”
“Then let’s go.”
* * *
One of the perks of being a reaper was the ability to bypass the dreaded line—a gigantic waiting room where you took a number and sat for hours, just like the DMV—and instead, head straight to the inner offices. The clerk, a dark-haired woman named Colette, looked up from her paperwork and smiled. “Hi, Jen. What can I do for you today?” When I smiled back, her expression quickly transformed from pleasant to apologetic. “I haven’t located any new leads on that soul you wanted me to look into.”
I held up a hand. “No worries.” I’d been visiting regularly since just after reaper training had started, with the hopes that someone could help me find Jack. Colette had gone above and beyond. “Actually, we’re here to check on a different name. It’s in connection with a lost.” I handed her the notebook with the information scrawled in it.
“Oh, sure thing.” Colette peeked around me, her expression cooling further. She smirked and gave Sam a curt wave. “Sammael.”
“And how are you this fine day, darling?” There was something almost antagonistic in his tone. At the very least, unfriendly. Was there a history I didn’t know about? Sam wasn’t exactly known for being kind or diplomatic. Actually, toward most people he was a major asshole.
“There’s no law that says I have to be nice. People don’t respect nice.”
I did a mental eye roll. They didn’t respect assholes, either. And I wasn’t talking about nice. I was talking about being civil. Treating people the way you wanted to be treated.
“Maybe I happen to enjoy being treated like the devil himself.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“Well, according to the files, this soul has not yet passed from her current life cycle,” Collette said, looking at her screen. “I could give you a printout if you’d like?”
“Would you?”
“Of course!” Collette retrieved the papers and handed them to me, then Sam and I left city hall.
Sam settled onto one of the marble steps out front. “What exactly is your game plan, girl detective?”
I ignored his jab and sat next to him, reading through the papers. “Well, we could bring him to see her.”
“Mmm, illegally transporting a soul? There are fines for that, you know.”
I looked at him sideways. “That’s only if we get caught.”
“A rookie and already willing to bend the rules?” While his words were warning, there was something playful in his tone. He knocked his knee against mine. “Awfully ballsy.”
“Do you want to wait for a permit to go through?”
He chuckled, but didn’t answer.
“Besides, I thought you said this was my show?”
“It’s certainly not mine. All right then. What first?”
I studied the papers again. Tammy was a married woman with three adult kids and two grandkids. She was a manager at a fabric store. I had no idea how the hell this was going to work, particularly if they couldn’t communicate with each other. Maybe I was hoping Chip would just see her as she was now and realize it was time to move on. I didn’t even want to consider the epic disaster this situation could turn into. “Well, why don’t we go pick up Chip and bring him to her.”
* * *
“That can’t be her.” Chip was wide-eyed, examining his middle-aged, former crush as she sat in her office, playing solitaire on the computer. Tammy was a heavyset woman with a blunt, yellowy, bob haircut. Age had not exactly been kind to her, either. She looked much older than early fifties. Chip whirled around and pointed at me. “You lied! You lied, and…”
“Oh boy, here we go.” Sam coughed into his hand.
I shot him a warning glance and forced myself to calmly evaluate the situation. When I was living, working as a mortician—and also the first point of contact in the office at my family’s funeral home—I’d had distraught, grieving people yell at me. Some called me names when I dared to send a bill for our services. Some complained when things weren’t arranged just so. It didn’t really matter what the conflict was, only that grieving people often acted irrationally. There was a certain balance of patience, tact, and a firm tone needed when you responded. This might have been a reverse of that scenario, but the concept had to be the same, right?
Chip ran a hand through his hair. “I mean I just saw her yesterday. This lady’s old…”
“She’s not that old.” I rested my hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how else to tell you this, but a lot of time has passed since you died.”
His eyebrows bunched together. “But…just yesterday…”
“It’s been over thirty years.”
“What? No. Pfft.”
“Think about it, Chip. Look at that computer she’s using. Did you have anything like that in 1983?” I leaned closer to him. “And that flat little rectangle on the desk? That’s a phone.”
He was still frowning, obviously thinking real hard. “You guys are tricking me somehow. Just like everyone else. Probably making me hallucinate, too. For all I know, this is some dream and I’m still in the bar.”
“You won’t convince him so easily.”
I looked back at Sam, who was perched on top of a filing cabinet, the pilfered whiskey bottle in his hand. He winked and made a celebratory gesture with it. “You’re doing a bang up job.”
I groaned. And he wasn’t helping. “Look closely at her, Chip. Look at her eyes. People age, but they don’t chan
ge completely. She’s still the same girl you had a crush on. If you just look, you’ll recognize her. ”
“I can’t see her eyes.” He was whining. Ghosts did that? After shuffling his feet back and forth in an uncertain semi-circle, he finally moved so he was standing right behind her.
“Then how about you move somewhere you can see them.” It was getting difficult to keep the frustration out of my tone.
Immediately after he passed close behind her back, she shivered. Her gaze darted up from the computer, looked from side to side, before returning her attention back to her game. Chip moved closer, peering over her shoulder at the monitor, so he was almost touching her.
“Who plays cards on a screen? They’re not even real cards.” He wrinkled his nose and squinted. Tammy shivered again. This time, she grabbed the cardigan from the back of her chair and draped it over her shoulders. And as she turned her head, Chip’s eyes widened. “Holy…” His voice trailed off as he stared at her.
“You may want to back up a step.”
I shot a puzzled glance back at Sam, just about the same time Chip whispered Tammy’s name. She dropped the pen she’d been chewing on and it bounced off the desk and rolled onto the floor. Then she screamed.
I reeled backward and almost plowed into Sam. He grasped my shoulder to stop the motion. “What the fuck?”
“He just had an epiphany.”
“Yeah, but…”
Sam held onto my shoulder. “And it appears that she can see him.”
Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. And she also had super-human lung power. I’d never heard a woman scream so loud and for so long. Maybe it was the shock or the surprise of her reaction, but Chip was now in the far corner of the room, his back pressed against the wall.
“Tammy? It’s me, Chip. Do you remember me?” he said.
The door whipped open and a younger woman with brown curly hair and a bright blue work smock poked her head in. “Tammy? Is everything OK?”
Valentines Heat I Page 6
