One Stiletto in the Grave (Reapers in Heels)

by Jason Krumbine

  “So you just turned him over?” Brooke asks.

  Decessus regards the younger Graves sister with a detached interest. “I believe that is the correct procedure for rogue reapers,” he says. “It’s not as if the Council argued otherwise when we turned him in. In fact, they seemed positively delighted. Apparently, Mr. Ibanez has been moonlighting for quite a while.”

  “And you only just now found out about it?” Avery asks, not bothering to mask her doubt.

  “Unlike your operation, Ms. Graves,” Decessus says, with a heavy tone. “We employ over a hundred different reapers in four different states. We are not a tiny, fly-by-night organization. It’s nearly impossible to keep tabs on every single one of our reapers.”

  “Maybe you should consider downsizing,” Brooke suggests.

  “Mr. Ibanez was very good at covering his tracks,” Decessus replies flatly.

  “And what about Larry Faraco?” Avery says.

  “Well, obviously, Mr. Ibanez had questionable motives and ethics, but you can’t deny his discovery of Mr. Faraco isn’t a unique situation,” Decessus says.

  “The man’s undead,” Brooke says.

  “As I said, a unique situation,” Decessus scratches his eyebrow. “I can’t condone, Mr. Ibanez’s behavior, but I’m not going to turn my back on Larry Faraco. Mr. Ibanez offered him representation and protection. We will honor that.”

  Avery frowns. “I’m going to be honest with you. I can’t help but feel like you guys are trying to game the system a bit.”

  Decessus’ expression turns slightly sour. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Ms. Graves. As you both know, the reaping business is always changing. Each new generation brings with it a new set of challenges. Here at Messor & Decessus we try to meet each new challenge enthusiastically.”

  “And sometimes you just get caught up in all that enthusiasm and don’t realize you’ve got a rogue reaper?” Brooke asks.

  “I understand your father was a grim reaper,” Decessus says, sidestepping Brooke’s question.

  The sisters shift awkwardly in their seats.

  “He was,” Avery says.

  Decessus nods. “William Graves wasn’t it? Good man, as I recall.”

  “How do you know our father?” Avery asks.

  Decessus merely shrugs. “Oh, he and I had a few run-ins back in the day,” he pauses, shifting his gaze between the two sisters. “I understand he’s out of the business these days?”

  “He passed away a few years ago,” Avery says simply. She watches Decessus’ expression.

  “I’m sorry,” Decessus says with a tone of sincerity that doesn’t quite sound sincere. “You have my condolences.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I wish we had met under better circumstances,” Decessus begins. “It was not my intention to begin our branch here in Century City on such rocky terms.” He pulls a folder from his desk. “When my partner and I started this firm so many years ago, we had a very simple mission: help those who needed help. To do that we decided we would only work with the best.”

  There are two contracts in the folder. He hands them to the sisters. Each contract is already filled out with their names.

  “I don’t understand,” Brooke says, flipping through the contract.

  “You’re offering us a job?” Avery asks.

  “Not just a job, an opportunity,” Decessus says. “As I said, we employ only the best. I don’t need your answer today.” He gets to his feet. “In fact, I don’t want it today. Take your time, look over the contract. Think about it. Discuss it with your family. I think you’ll not only find that it’s a reasonable offer, but a very generous one as well.” Decessus smiles. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

  Davy’s Coffee is a quaint little cafe located a few blocks from the sister’s office. They’re seated at a small table outside.

  “This is unbelievable,” Brooke says, skimming through the contract. “Half of this doesn’t make any sense and the other half is just too good to be true.” She taps her finger against page 16. “We would get vacation time.”

  “I wouldn’t even know what to do with that,” Avery says, sipping her chai latte.

  “I know, right?” Brooke shakes her head. “When was the last time we had a vacation? Two years ago?”

  “Do we count spa trips?” Avery asks.

  “Spa trips are not vacations,” Brooke says.

  “Mini vacations. A vacation for the afternoon.”

  Brooke shakes her head. “No. A vacation is a beach somewhere that’s not here. A beach, a bikini and three cabana boys waiting on me hand and foot. That is a vacation.”

  “Should I cancel our appointment at Florentio’s then?” Avery asks.

  “Hell, no.” Brooke pinches her right cheek. “Do you see these pores? I need a facial worse than I need to eat right now.” Brooke goes back to skimming the contract. “Just a lot of big numbers here.”

  “They give off a certain feel,” Avery says. “Messor & Decessus.”

  “Yeah, they do,” Brooke agrees.

  “Kind of dirty,” Avery continues.

  “A little scummy?”

  “A very dubious reaper firm.”

  “Very,” Brooke agrees. “But then, that could be because of Ibanez. He was a bit of a scumbag.”

  “That’s true,” Avery concedes.

  “But Decessus...” Brooke trails off.

  “Something didn’t sit right about him,” Avery finishes.

  Brooke nods. “Yeah.”

  “I mean, we got what we went there for, right?” Avery asks.

  Brook holds up the contracts. “Hell, we got more than what we went there for.”

  Avery drinks her latte, nodding. “That’s true.”

  “A job offer,” Brooke says.

  “Okay,” Avery says after a minute. “I’m gonna throw something out there. It’s probably going to sound a little crazy, though.”

  “Any crazier than me spending thirty grand on shoes?” Brooke asks, not looking up from the contract.

  “That’s probably not something you want to keep bringing up,” Avery suggests to her.

  Brooke shrugs. “It is what it is.”

  “I don’t think they were headhunting Alan.” Avery says.

  Brooke looks at her sister. “I don’t follow.”

  “Remember, Alan told us that that Messor & Decessus were going to offer him a staff position?”

  Brooke nods. “Yeah, Billy said they were offering these to half the reapers in town.”

  “Maybe,” Avery says. “But I don’t think they were offering one to Alan.”

  “You think Alan just made it up?”

  “No,” Avery replies, tracing her finger around the top of her cup. “I think he thinks they were going to offer him something.”

  “Okay,” Brooke says, still not following.

  “But I don’t think they really were,” Avery finishes.

  “Then would why would they approach him?” Brooke asks.

  Avery doesn’t answer right away. “This is a crazy part.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m telling you, it’s gonna seem weird,” Avery continues. “But think about it for a moment.”

  “The suspense is killing me,” Brooke says dryly.

  “Decessus had these contracts just sitting there, waiting for us to show up,” Avery says. “I don’t think they were headhunting Alan. I think they were headhunting us.”

  Brooke lets it sink for a moment. She slowly nods her head. “Yeah. You’re right. That is a little crazy.”

  “I know.”

  “Why not just approach us like they did Alan?”

  “Good question,” Avery says. She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  Brooke looks at the contracts on the table. “It’s a hell of a roundabout way.” She chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking it over for a minute. “You’re right, though. It sounds like it should be crazy...”

  “...but it’s not,” Avery finishe
s.

  Brooke looks up at her sister with zero humor in her expression. “I think this is first time I don’t feel excited at the thought of being wanted.”

  Reapers in Heels

  Will

  Return

  in

  January 2012

  AND NOW, AN EXCLUSIVE LOOK AT THE FOLLOW-UP TO OUTLAWED LOVE STARRING KATE SHARPE’S BROTHER, JACK:

  UNDERCOVER LOVERS

  About the book:

  Following the events of OUTLAWED LOVE, Jack Sharpe is on a dangerous convert mission for his government. But the last thing he thought he’d expose was his heart…

  AVAILABLE MARCH 2012

  Chapter One

  Now

  Tracy Willis slipped into the office, softly closing the door behind her. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. The lights were off and the blinds were drawn closed.

  "Hello?" she whispered. Taking a step forward, she unconsciously pushed her brown hair behind her ear. She kicked off her heels. "Hello?" she whispered again.

  There was no response.

  "Jack?" Tracy frowned. She was too late. She sighed. “Damnit.”

  Hard, strong hands grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms at her back. Tracy bit back a scream, letting out a strangled squeal instead.

  "Hush," a strong male voice whispered in her ear.

  Tracy smiled, the fear melting away immediately. "Jack," she breathed. She relaxed her body against him.

  "Hey," he said, inhaling her scent. Jasmine. She smelled like jasmine.

  "This is new." She tried to turn around and face him, but his powerful hands held her in place.

  "You're late," he replied. Keeping one hand on her arms, he pulled the hair away from her neck. He bent down and lightly blew on her skin, following it with a soft kiss on the back of her neck. Tracy bit her lower lip, shuddering with delight.

  "I got held up in the meeting," she replied, squirming in his grasp. She wanted to face him, to see him. She needed to. Tracy tried to pull away from his grasp.

  "Stop," he said, tightening his grip on her.

  "This isn't fair," her tone was playful.

  She could hear the smile in his voice. "Then maybe you should have shown up on time,” he said.

  Jack let go of her hair and placed his head on her waist, caressing her hip. He slid his hand up to her breasts, cupping her through the white blouse. He gave her a firm squeeze, running his thumb across her nipple and he felt it pucker and tighten through the material. Gently, he pulled at her nipple and was rewarded with a lusty moan.

  "Jack," she whispered, not daring to speak any louder. "This really isn't fair."

  Tracy wiggled her bottom against him, there's a sharp intake of air from him as she felt him harden. Encouraged by his response, she pushed herself against him more forcefully. A soft growl escaped him.

  Jack squeezed her breast again. "Stop.” His tone was firm, but she could tell he wasn't serious. "I'm not the one in trouble."

  "Oh?" Tracy pushed against his hardened length again, swaying her hips as though she was participating in a forbidden dance. "Well, in that case, what's one more infraction?"

  Jack laughed softly and guides her further into the office.

  It was an empty office. In fact, most of the twentieth floor was empty. Which was why it made for an ideal meeting place.

  Jack pushed her down over the desk, Tracy's face pressed against it's cool surface. He released her arms and let his hands travel down the length of her body, settling on her hips.

  "Don't move," he said.

  "Is this my punishment?" she asked with a smile. Her eyes are closed as she gives herself over to him.

  "Maybe," Jack murmured as his fingers found the zipper on her skirt, pulling it down slowly. The sound sent waves of anticipation through her. Her skirt dropped to the floor and Jack forgets to breathe for a moment.

  "Jack?" she asked after silence drew on for a second too long. "Are you still there?”

  "Just taking in the scenery," he replied. "You wore the red ones." His finger traced the outline of lace on her panties.

  "It's your first day back," Tracy replied. Little goosebumps popped up at his touch. "I wanted to make it memorable."

  "Oh, it's definitely memorable," Jack replied in a hoarse voice.

  Both hands gripped her bottom, squeezing her cheeks tightly. Tracy pushed back against him. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly. "Jack," she moaned. "This is terrible."

  He laughed. "Baby, I haven't even started yet."

  He planted a kiss on her exposed lower back. She wiggled herself against him again, sending him a very clear message: Foreplay later.

  Jack hooked his fingers around the edge of her panties and pulled them down in a single motion, letting them rest around her ankles. He nipped at her soft flesh, following each gentle bite with a soft kiss. Her skin felt delightfully smooth beneath his lips and tasted so sweet.

  Tracy lifted her head at the sound of his buckle being undone. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

  "It's only been a day," Jack said, squeezing her bottom again.

  "It feels like a month," Tracy replied.

  "It sure does," Jack agreed, reaching around her. His fingers brushed against her soft, velvety skin.

  Tracy moaned in response.

  "You want to know how much I missed you?" he asked her.

  "Yes," she replied. "Please, Jack. Please."

  Then he was between her legs, touching her. She pushed back a little.

  "Hey," he said, holding her by her bottom. “Slow down.”

  His tip caressed her velvety flesh and he was rewarded with another moan.

  "Jack..."

  "Tracy," he breathed. His hips started to push forward.

  The building's alarm suddenly went off. The office was flooded with red lights.

  Jack stumbled backward, his lust-addled mind dazed and confused. "What the-?"

  And then everything went to Hell.

  COMING MARCH 2012

  GO TO WWW.JASONKRUMBINE.COM AND SIGN UP FOR THE EMAIL DISTRIBUTION LIST. FILL OUT THE FORM ON THE FRONT PAGE TO LEARN WHEN NEW BOOKS ARE RELEASED!

  OUTLAWED LOVE

  AVAILABLE NOW

  BONUS CONTENT

  Excerpt from A Graveyard Romance

  About the book:

  Ahh, nothing like a romantic picnic in a cemetery, after dark, on a Friday the 13th. What could possibly go wrong? Will true love blossom for Mike and Danielle? Or will they join the throngs of the undead? Nothing like first date jitters. BONUS CONTENT Original Short Story: The Forgotten. A mysterious stranger with no memory finds himself to protect a helpless family.

  < < > >

  1

  Beneath the rusty gates Danielle gave me a mischievous smile. She stepped onto the worn stone path and said, "This going to be fun. Trust me."

  I raised a dubious eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. After all, what was I going to say? This was Dani. I followed the skinny, brown haired girl into the cemetery. Our path was illuminated by the setting sun, it's golden rays glinted dully off bronze tombstones that surrounded us. I’ll be honest, I was slightly disappointed these were not the kind of tombstones that stuck up out of the ground like in the movies. These just lay on the ground like mini-plaques or nameplates: Hi, my name is Phil and I’m dead.

  Oh yeah, visiting the graveyard at night, on a Friday the 13th no less. This is just barrels of fun. Maybe later we could stab ourselves in the eyes with icepicks. I shook my head and followed Dani.

  "Oh, look at this one," she pointed at a nearby tombstone. It looked like all the others, rectangular and unimpressive. "Charles Schmitty," she giggled, "What a funny name."

  "Yeah, hilarious. I'm just cracking up," I replied dryly, running a hand through my short black hair. I looked around again, checking to see if we had been spotted by any groundskeeper. I did not want to be here and I wanted to get caught even less. This was, after all, technically trespassing.
I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter past eight. "Just for the record," I said, "having a picnic in the cemetery after sundown was your idea. Are we clear on that? If we get caught, you're not taking me down with you."

  She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for your support. You can be such a sissy sometimes."

  "Yeah, well, that's me," I replied, shifting the heavy backpack from one shoulder to the other, "Captain SissyBoy, here to protect overzealous and adrenaline high girls from themselves. Where did you want to eat?"

  Danielle looked around for a moment and finally pointed to a couple of benches over in the mausoleum. I nodded and started in that direction. At least it wasn’t on a grave.

  "Hey, Mike, check this one out."

  I stopped and turned to look at the tombstone that Dani had found. Although, calling it a tombstone seemed almost insulting. Tt looked more like a miniature, ceremonial, altar-type thingie. It was made of some shiny, maroon marble and had four little, half naked angels on each of its four corners. The name on it read: Arnold Schevenheiger. With a straight face, I said, "I knew a Arnold Schevenheiger. That bastard owes me forty bucks."

  Dani giggled again and punched me the shoulder. "Show some respect for the dead. Besides, I don't think that's how you pronounce his name."

  I took a closer look at the tombstone. I shook my head and looked back at Dani. "He's not dead. There's only a date of birth. It's been reserved in anticipation of his demise."

  Danielle laughed. "Come on, let's eat. I'm starving."

  I nodded. "Visiting a cemetery at night will do that to you. Being surrounded by all these dead people, you work up quite the appetite," I said, my voice dripping with sarcastic wit. "Happens to me all the time."

  We walked over to benches and I set the backpack down. Danielle unzipped it and started ruffling through the 'pack. I glanced back the way we had come. The sun was gone, and in its place were red clouds, highlighted with fading tints of orange. In another part of the sky I could see the moon slowly rising. A full moon. I shivered involuntarily.