Night of the Loving Dead

by Casey Daniels

  At that moment, I really wished she could.

  When I stood, my teeth were clenched and my jaw was tight. “The only pain around here is you. You’re a royal pain in the—”

  “Of course that’s how you would respond.” All-knowing, she pressed her lips together and nodded. “It’s practically impossible for you to rise above your childish, defensive personality structure. Not without intensive psychotherapy. Have you thought about getting it, Pepper? You really would be doing yourself a favor. And making the world a better place.”

  “Actually, I think I’d be doing myself a favor if I forgot all about you and this stupid case of yours.” I grabbed my hat and gloves and stepped around the potted palm, prepared to leave the alcove. “I don’t need this aggravation.”

  “And Danny doesn’t need to go to jail.”

  “Then I’ll tell you what. I’ll give him the skinny on what’s going on. Now that Dan knows I can talk to you, I’ll tell him how you told me that Doctor Gerard is a crook. Then he can tell Doctor Gerard that he knows what’s going on and—”

  “Oh please don’t!” Suddenly as upset as she had been self-important only moments before, her mouth fell open and her voice wobbled. “We can’t risk that, Pepper. If Hilton knows . . .” She swallowed hard. “If he finds out, Danny could be in danger.”

  “Come off it!” I wheeled away and then turned back to her. It was warm in the tiny room off the lobby, and I unbuttoned my coat. “You’re making this Hilton guy sound like some kind of criminal mastermind. Is there more you haven’t told me about him?”

  Madeline shook her head. “I swear, Pepper. You know everything now. Everything. I just . . .” She wrung her hands, and her cheeks were as pale as her lab coat. “I just don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Danny. I love him so much. I only want what’s best for him. You understand that, don’t you? You must have been in love at least once in your life.”

  I thought about the string of boyfriends I’d had back in my high school and college days. The ones I’d loved as only a young girl can—with all my heart and all my soul. At least until the next boyfriend came along.

  I thought about Joel, who had once professed his to-my-dying-day love for me, and who I’d once been stupid enough to believe.

  I thought about Quinn, because believe me, even though my trip to Chicago was turning out to be way more than I bargained for, I hadn’t forgotten Quinn or the incredible night we spent together. That didn’t mean I didn’t know what was what as far as my favorite cop was concerned. Quinn might be more than willing to share my bed, but I wasn’t kidding myself. He’d never let a dangerous four-letter word like L-O-V-E cross his lips or his mind.

  And of course, I thought about Dan. Only it wasn’t as easy, since when it came to him, I didn’t know what to think. Especially now that I knew about Madeline. Not to mention the shady money that funded his research and the missing patients.

  But of course, I wasn’t willing to talk about my personal life. Not with Madeline, anyway. Any woman who could pull off a wedding within one week of her fiancé proposing—and at city hall, no less—would never understand the intricacies of my love life.

  And I wouldn’t want her to.

  “Is that why you haven’t crossed over?” I asked her instead. “Because you’re worried about Dan?”

  “Worried about him?Yes, of course.” Madeline turned away, but she wasn’t fooling me; I heard her sniffle. When she turned back to me, there were tears on her cheeks. “I don’t want to see him in trouble, but I don’t want to see him alone, either. He’s such a wonderful man. I can’t bear to think of him being lonely for the rest of his life. I can’t leave. Not until I know he’s happy.”

  “And you don’t think he’ll be happy until—”

  “Well, not if he’s in jail, of course.” This was a given, so Madeline did not elaborate. “But once I’m satisfied that Danny won’t be entangled in any messy legal problems . . . well . . .” A rush of color stained her cheeks. “I’d like to see him find another woman. One who loves him as much as I did. I’d like him to love another woman as much as he loved me. It’s only fair. I know you don’t understand, but on this Side, jealousy and petty feelings, they don’t mean a thing. So you see, if he did find someone to love, I wouldn’t mind at all. All I want is what’s best for my Danny, and I’m anxious to see him get it. I can’t rest unless I know he’s happy. Maybe . . .” When she looked at me, her eyes were pleading. “Maybe you could help him find someone?”

  I don’t think my reaction had anything to do with narcissism, because a person doesn’t have to be officially narcissistic to get insulted.

  Insulted, I raised my chin and glared at Madeline. “What you’re saying is that I should go out and look for a woman for him because . . . what? You don’t think Dan and I could ever be a couple?”

  “It’s not that.”

  It was. I could tell from the way Madeline said the words.

  “He needs someone who loves him deeply. Do you love him deeply, Pepper?”

  I didn’t know him well enough for that kind of feeling, and I told Madeline so. That didn’t mean we couldn’t try to be friends and see where things went from there. I told her that, too.

  She merely shook her head in disappointment.

  By this time, I wasn’t just offended, I was royally pissed. Madeline wasn’t just questioning if I was compatible with Dan. Hell, I’d questioned that, too. Dozens of times. I’d be a fool not to go on questioning it. At least until I knew him better.

  Oh no. Madeline was way more thorough than that. She was questioning my motives. And my worth. Without so much as saying a word about it, she was questioning my character and my intentions and damn it, my sex appeal, too. This was not something I was going to take sitting down.

  Even though I was already standing up.

  I went toe-to-toe with her. “What? You think I’m not pretty enough? Or funny enough? Or—”

  “Let’s face it, Pepper.” Madeline’s expression was downright pained. “A man like Danny has so many interests and such wide-ranging reading habits. He bores easily, of course, because with a mind like his, it’s just natural that he needs stimulation and mental challenges. I doubt if you can understand, seeing as how you’re just a detective.”

  Did I catch a whiff of condescension in that last word?

  You bet I did, but before I could say anything about it, Madeline went right on. “I’m sorry, Pepper. Though we can always try to improve ourselves through study and reading and, in some cases like yours, with the help of trained professionals who understand our challenges and our limitations, we can’t change our basic natures. Or our mental abilities and capabilities. My Danny . . . he needs someone who’s his intellectual equal.”

  “And you’re saying I’m not smart enough.” Gloves clutched in one hand, hat in the other, I propped my fists on my hips and tapped the toe of one boot against the carpeting while I waited for her answer, or at least her apology. I guess I could have gone on tapping and waiting until hell was as frozen as the Chicago streets outside, because instead of taking back her insulting words the way any self-respecting ghost would, Madeline just smiled sadly and faded away.

  Even when her ectoplasm had disappeared, her voice floated in the air around me. Which was too bad, because I wasn’t sure where to aim my glare. “I understand that this is a real blow to your psyche, Pepper. Facing reality always is for a person as enmeshed in her own narcissism as you are. But it’s time to face facts. You can try all you want, but you can’t change the truth. You simply aren’t good enough for my Danny.”

  Of course, I knew better.

  I was plenty smart. And plenty good enough for Dan. I also happened to be the only one who could save him.

  It was time to start proving it, and with that in mind, I went to the hotel coffee shop and ordered a to-go container of beef barley soup and a cheeseburger with everything on it. I already had the paper bag with the food in it clutched in one hand
and was heading for the front doors when something in a hallway off the lobby caught my eye.

  It was a laundry cart stacked with fresh bedding. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching, ducked into the hallway, and got to work.

  Just for the record (and in case any of my old friends get wind of this and start asking questions), I have never before made a social call on anyone who lives in a box.

  My hands tucked into my sleeves, my scarf wound up to my nose, I hunkered down on an old milk crate newly covered with a blanket that had the hotel’s name embroidered in one corner and did my best to make myself comfortable. Since Ernie had been lucky enough to get his hands on a box that must once have contained some large piece of commercial equipment, this was not as hard as it sounds. What he didn’t have was a source of heat, and I shivered and watched him adjust the new blanket draped over his shoulders (a twin of the one I was sitting on). He drew in a long breath.

  “This is the best meal I’ve had in as long as I can remember.” In the light of a battery-operated lantern, Ernie’s smile shone bright. “Way better than that mushy stew they give us over at St. Katherine’s. Thank you.” The photograph of his wife was next to him, and he looked at it briefly and smiled. “Alberta says thanks, too. I mean, she would if she were here.”

  “She’s dead?” I wasn’t usually so forward, but there was something about sitting close in the semidarkness while the snow swirled through the alley just on the other side of the tarp draped over the opening to the box that made me feel as if Ernie and I were old friends. “How long?”

  “Dead?” There were a couple globs of gooey cheese on the paper the burger had been wrapped in and Ernie scraped them off and licked them from his finger. “Alberta’s as right as rain. Still working at the Scottsdale library as far as I know. Not that I’d ever dare stop in to see her. I wouldn’t want to upset her. You understand.”

  I didn’t, but for reasons I couldn’t explain, I wanted to. “If she’s got a job—”

  “Why am I sleeping out here in the cold?” I was glad he’d finished the question for me, because I wasn’t sure how to word it. “Seems better, don’t you think?” Ernie crumpled the burger wrapper and stuffed it in the paper bag along with the empty soup container. “Alberta, she’s better off without me in her life.”

  “And you’re better off here? That doesn’t seem possible. How long have you lived on the street, Ernie?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “Twelve years. At least as far as I can remember. It was the winter right after little Morgan was born. My youngest grandson. Doctor said I wouldn’t get better and I could see how my way of acting and doing things was affecting Alberta.” His eyes glittered. “I’m crazy, you know. At least that’s what they say.”

  I waved off this announcement as inconsequential. “Believe me, I’ve met people who are way crazier than you. Besides, if you took your medication—”

  “I feel better when I take it, sure. But then I figure I don’t need to take it anymore. That’s when I get all crazy again. Alberta, she don’t deserve to live with a crazy man.” He touched a finger to the photograph. “She’s a good woman.”

  “I’ll bet she misses you.”

  “You think?” Ernie’s smile was bittersweet. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. That’s for certain.” His sigh rippled the air between us, and I reminded myself that next time I stopped in, I’d bring Crest, a toothbrush, and a lifetime supply of Listerine. “So, you were just passing by? Is that what you said?”

  It was clear that Ernie didn’t believe it, even though that was exactly how I’d explained stopping by with the food. I shrugged. “Actually, I was going to take a look around the clinic and maybe talk to whoever is on duty. It’s open late tonight, right?”

  “Open until ten every night. Doctor Gerard, I’ve heard him say there’s no time clock for people who need help. He’s a good man, don’t you think?”

  I stood, and when I hit my head on the roof of Ernie’s box, I hunched my shoulders and sidled toward the doorway. “I haven’t met him yet,” I told Ernie. “But I’d like to. Does Doctor Gerard . . .” I eased into the subject because, let’s face it, just because Ernie was mentally ill didn’t mean he was dumb. “Does Doctor Gerard ever talk about ghosts?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Is that what it’s all about? Hell, wish I knew that years ago. I would have been happy to tell Doctor Gerard I believed in ghosts if I knew it was going to get me inside.” He thought I was kidding, so he laughed.

  I knew I wasn’t, so I laughed, too, and headed back into the alley where it was only slightly colder than it was in Ernie’s box. I had already rounded the corner to the street and climbed the steps up to the clinic’s front door when it banged open and Dan Callahan slammed into me.

  Dan being Dan, he acted instinctively and honorably. He made a grab for me and latched onto my sleeve to keep me from falling backward and down the steps.

  Of course, that was before he did a double take and realized it was me.

  There was enough light coming from the security lamp over the doorway for me to see his face, so I knew I wasn’t imagining things. From the look that darted across Dan’s face, I saw that given a second chance, he wouldn’t have grabbed me to keep me from breaking my neck. In fact, I had the uneasy feeling that he might have given me a push to help me on my way.

  “I thought we finally trusted each other, Pepper.”

  His look, his words, and the anger that simmered in his voice were all so far removed from the “Thank you, thank you, thank you” I’d heard from him only a couple hours earlier, I was too stunned to speak. Which was probably a good thing since he rushed right on.

  “How could you?” Dan dropped his hand and backed away. “How could anyone be as cold and as cruel as you?”

  Since not much of what he said made sense, I glommed on to what did. I stomped my feet and shoved my hands into my pockets. “I’ll say I’m cold. As for being cruel . . .” I looked at Dan hard. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “As if you didn’t know.” Dan marched down the steps.

  Too curious to let it go, I followed. “Pardon me for not being all cryptic along with you, but it’s late and I’m freezing and I just spent the better part of the last hour in a cardboard box.” I didn’t explain because I didn’t want to, and besides, I liked the idea of making that too-big brain of Dan’s work overtime on trying to figure out what I was talking about. “The way I remember things, the last time I saw you, you pretty much thought I walked on water. As far as I know, I haven’t done anything since to change that.”

  “Really?” He looked at me hard. “How about lying to me? Does that count? You said you were a patient of Doctor Gerard’s.”

  “Oh.”

  Nothing like a reality check to take the wind out of a girl’s sails.

  But only for a second. “I never said that.” If Dan was as smart as Madeline claimed he was, I shouldn’t have had to tell him this. He would have remembered on his own. “You saw me here and you assumed I was a patient of Doctor Gerard’s. You said—”

  “I said I was glad you were finally seeing an expert and you—” He emphasized his point by poking a finger toward me, a gesture I did not appreciate in the least. “You never contradicted me. But you know what? I was just in the clinic and while I was there, I looked through the files. There’s no record of you ever being a patient here, Pepper. There’s no file with your name on it, and there’s no notation of your appointment on Doctor Gerard’s calendar. You lied. About all of it.”

  “Like you lied to me about being a brain researcher at a hospital.”

  He grunted. “That’s hardly the same.”

  “It’s exactly the same.” My words echoed back at me in the deserted street, but who could blame me for sounding angry? I wasn’t used to being ambushed. I didn’t appreciate it, and as long as I was justifying my sudden burst of temper, I figured I might as well add that I didn’t deserve it, eit
her. “That study you said you were doing for the hospital . . . That weird equipment you hooked me up to, to test my brain . . . It was all a bunch of nonsense, because you never cared about my brain. All you cared about was my ability to talk to the dead.”

  “And that . . .” Dan drew in a breath. When he let it out slowly, it clouded in the snowy air. “That’s the worst part of it. You told me you talked to her, Pepper. You said you’d seen her.” His anger dissolved beneath his pain, and he choked over the words. “All that stuff about me moving on with my life . . . how can any woman be as shallow as you? You pretended you’d heard it from Maddy. You said all that... why? Just to get me to date you? That’s pathetic.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “It’s bull.”

  “I really do talk to the dead, Dan.” Even I couldn’t believe that I was defending myself on this, the one topic I’d sworn never to discuss with anybody—ever. “I’ve talked to plenty of dead people. Gus Scarpetti and Didi Bowman and—”