Unwed and Dead (The Dead Ex Files Book 1)

by Claire Kane

  Who’d have thought the man would have been so easy to buy?

  Even as he walked into the bank designated by the note, he found he was still shaking his head at the hungry look in his mentor’s eyes, especially when he’d promised extra caramel sauce and whipped cream. Victor smiled as he queued up for the teller, and let his thoughts drift back to Lacey while he waited.

  He’d been more than a little skeptical at first. Coming off his bleeding retreat from Jessica, he vowed he wasn’t going to find someone on the rebound. Then, the night of Taniguchi’s party had come, and the rest was history. He kept telling himself to put the brakes on—that this was all just some hormonal-adrenal response—but Lacey was just too good for him to convince himself it wasn’t right. Her wit, her intelligence, those knowing eyes; she had everything he’d wished for in Jessica, but had only thought he’d found.

  One thing led to another, and by the time he was on the plane to Tokyo, he was starting to wonder whether wedding bells may be in their future.

  “Hello, sir?” The lilting voice broke his reverie, and he found himself standing at the front of the line. Blushing slightly, he cleared his throat and stepped forward, placing the pictures of the children on the counter, along with the note. Behind thick glass, a Japanese girl in a navy blue bank uniform smiled at him, a query in her eyes.

  “I’m to deposit this money,” he said, carefully laying the stack of yen notes next to his other pile, “into the account listed here. The money is for the children listed on the paper.”

  The teller looked at Victor’s offering, then shot a strange glance at him. “Do you also wish to remain anonymous, sir?”

  Victor smiled. “He who gives anonymously is more blessed than he who parades his gift, right?”

  The teller straightened and blinked, suddenly seeming to come alive. “Of course, sir. An old proverb. Thank you for your deposit. May I assist you in some other way?”

  Victor shook his head. “That’ll be all, thanks.” The teller bowed slightly, and Victor returned the bow, unable to keep from smiling, picturing the faces of the kids as they got new clothing, or, maybe, were moved into a new apartment or something. It felt wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that he decided to head straight to the coffee shop and get his boss a double. Yes, today was a very good day.

  A text message dinged. He pulled his phone out of his pants pocket to view it: Hey, handsome. I was just thinking about you, again. Why’d we ever break up? Kissies & squeezies, Jessica.

  Well, it had been a good day—past tense. He’d ignore that text, along with the others piling up as of late. He knew she only liked “the chase.” Anyway, it was a little nutty for a girl as gorgeous as her to keep pushing for a reply. Maybe he’d eventually block her number, and be done with it for good. And with that thought, he swiped his touchscreen and did block her.

  As quick as that, Victor was back to having a very good day.

  SEVEN

  Present day…

  The memory of Jessica kicked Victor out of his reminiscence. Ugh, he thought. So glad I got away from her. I thought she was going to be the death of me. Shrink wrap wouldn’t have clung on to me as tightly as she did.

  He turned back to where Lacey was still sobbing on the bed. He’d unconsciously fallen prone next to her, his arm still draped across her shoulders. When her tears subsided some, she sat up, and he mirrored her. For the first time since getting here, he took a moment to take in his surroundings.

  Lacey had really gone all-out picking a hotel. A king bed serviced by twin glass nightstands made a comfortable centerpiece for the room. The white wood dresser matched a desk sporting a large screen computer, and contrasted with the dark wood paneling covering the wall behind the bed. Another wall—this one all glass—opened on to a breathtaking view of the city, the famous Tokyo tower a swooping, red finger in the neon night.

  “She must have really wanted a night out,” he muttered.

  Rao floated down and curled up on the bed, just the way she did when she was alive. She licked herself casually, and cast her eyes toward Victor. Why do you do that?

  “What?” he asked.

  Mutter under your breath.

  “Why did you used to make those weird moaning sounds every spring evening?”

  Rao looked as offended as a cat possibly could and, though she couldn’t blush, Victor felt a wave of embarrassment ripple forth from her. I’ll thank you very much not to pursue that line of questioning.

  “And I’ll thank you,” Victor replied with a smile, “to not try psychoanalyzing every little thing I do. I’m here to help Lacey. You said I could talk to her if I could figure out how, so I need to start somewhere. For all I know, she’ll still be on a plane soon, and she’ll leave any clues behind that might point to my killer. And besides…” he trailed off, looking at the Asian beauty wistfully.

  Rao’s paw brushed against his hand. I know how you feel about her, Victor, the cat said with surprising tenderness. Believe it or not I was in love once. With five different toms, but… it’s a cat thing. You’re a good guy, Vic, even if you’re an idiot. She’d have done well to get you.

  Victor nodded, but kept his thoughts on Lacey. He could still sense her tangle of thoughts, and wondered whether he could unravel them, the way he used to unravel his grandma’s yarn balls.

  Grandma always hated that, Rao mused cheerily. I loved it, of course. Oh, and thanks for taking the hit every time she caught you entertaining me.

  “You’re welcome,” Victor murmured, trying to fixate on just one of his girlfriend’s thoughts. Once again, they seemed to go in a million different directions at once. She never seemed to think of any one thing for more than a few seconds before she moved on to something that seemed to have little-to-nothing to do with the previous thought. After only a minute, his head hurt; he wasn’t aware that was even possible.

  “I give up,” he said, extricating himself from the mental mess. And yet, he couldn’t quite shut it out.

  I could teach you how to—

  “We’ve been through that, too, yes,” Victor interrupted. “I just don’t like your price.”

  Rao rolled on to her back, paws in the air, and Victor absently reached out to scratch her underbelly. There are other ways of reading thoughts, you know. And you should also know that you’re handling it like a guy. No wonder you’re not getting anywhere with it.

  Lacey stood up, and walked into the bathroom, where she turned on the sink’s faucet, and splashed some water on her face. Victor watched as she peered at her reflection, and found himself doing the same. He couldn’t get over just how beautiful she was. “Care to enlighten me, oh wise Cat of Heaven,” he said quietly, still intent on the sadness in Lacey’s eyes.

  Well, think of it like merging on to a freeway.

  Victor screwed up his face. “How would you know what that’s like?”

  Rao put on a big, happy cat smirk. First-hand experience. I found out what happens when you try it on foot. And you just thought I’d run away.

  Victor felt himself go cold, and knew that if he’d still had a heart in his chest, it would have paused. “Oh my gosh,” he whispered, whirling to face the tabby. “You… you…”

  Met a tire at sixty-five miles per hour, give or take. But that’s okay. It didn’t hurt, and all my kittens were grown. But focus. Look at Lacey.

  He complied.

  Now, don’t focus on anything except gauging the speed and flow of her thoughts.

  “How am I supposed to—?”

  You don’t think about it, for starters. You just do it. Find an opening, and merge on into the traffic flow.

  Victor tuned into her thoughts and was, once again, almost immediately swept away. After a few moments, he caught on to another thought about Lucky Charms, which evolved into how Lacey hated the way Victor ate, which morphed into a reminder that she hadn’t eaten since lunch. The thoughts continued to blur and flash, all punctuated by various emotions, but Victor closed his eyes, and let himself
drown in it all. At once, he realized that he wasn’t completely lost anymore. Though the way forward was anything but linear, he found he was finally able to swim with the tide, and get a general sense of where she was going. It was as though he were standing in a giant, domed room with a billion different movies playing across the ceiling all at once, with literal surround sound. He was pleasantly surprised when he sensed dubiousness and suspicion regarding his death.

  “Yes—yes!” he called to her mind. “Run with that. Help me out, Lace.”

  His thoughts faltered for a moment, and many of the images were replaced with pictures of Victor, along with thoughts of how handsome, confident, and utterly stupid he was. It was simultaneously flattering and insulting.

  “Can you hear, Lacey? Hello?”

  Lacey peered into the mirror, frowning. She squeezed her eyes shut, and shook her head lightly before splashing more water on her face.

  Not bad, Vic. Maybe you’re remembering more than I gave you credit for. The cat patted his shoulder. Now, I’ll give you a teensy, tiny hint. You can stroll through her memories, too.

  Victor blinked out of Lacey’s mind, and frowned. “And why would I want to do that?”

  Well, Rao drawled, prowling around in the air at eye level, you might just find something that helps you… understand why you’re here. Or, as you prefer to think, “dead.”

  Victor squinted. “I thought you said, on the way here, that you were bound by an oath not to reveal certain secrets before I returned to Heaven.”

  Rao actually whistled innocently.

  Victor glared at his pet. “There’s a caveat, isn’t there?”

  Nope. And no, I’m not breaking any rules. You still need to know what to look for, and how to get there in the first place. Might as well get started.

  Lacey moved back into the bedroom, and touched the desk phone. Victor practiced merging into her thoughts—it was a little easier this time—and found she was contemplating ordering room service.

  “Ask for Lucky Charms,” he said, noticing that a few images of leprechauns appeared across the screen of her mind. Lacey chewed her lip, and picked up the phone, then put it down again and sank back into the bed.

  Try it, Rao said. She’s got some really fun stories to see.

  Victor bit his lip. “That seems a bit… violating, don’t you think?”

  Rao sighed and rolled her eyes. Look, outside mortality, thoughts aren’t hidden. We all share. Yes, it’s a bit bothersome and embarrassing once you’ve been locked in a mortal frame for a while, but you get used to it. Really, I’m doing you a favor.

  “Some favor,” he muttered.

  Really—try it, she repeated.

  “Where do I even start?” Victor asked, sitting next to Lacey, and reaching out to stroke her head. He smiled when she absently placed a hand over the area he was stroking.

  How about, Rao said pensively, the first time she came to visit you here.

  Victor raised an eyebrow. “And I’m looking for what, exactly?”

  Ah, ah! Secrets.

  “Whatever. Okay. Onward and upward. Or something.” With that, he slipped back into Lacey’s mind and began his search, even while she drifted off to sleep. With her mind wavering, he found that reading her was less like freeway traffic, and more like swimming in a massive school of fish. And with a few hours of fishing, he managed to find what he was looking for before sunrise.

  For the first time in memory, he understood what it was like to be a woman. He also finally figured out just why Lacey hated flying.

  EIGHT

  Two months earlier…

  Lacey’s insides were dancing. The airplane’s seatbelt seemed to chafe at her shifting, so she loosened it just a touch, then straightened her hair. The stale air from the vent over her head seemed to be aimed more at annoying her than at keeping her cool, so she twisted the nozzle closed, before digging in her purse for a piece of gum. She glanced behind her to check on the camera crew. The two men seemed to be doing fine.

  “Nervous about flying?”

  Lacey glanced up and across the aisle to where Greg Mendoza was smiling at her. “I used to get that way. Learned long ago that all you need is the right distraction.”

  Lacey faked a smile in return. “Thanks, boss. And again, thank you so much for taking me along on this.”

  Greg waved it away. “Hey, no worries. We’re family at KZTB. Besides, I still remember my first time flying. Thought I was going to be sick.” He chuckled lightly. “Sorry, that probably wasn’t very helpful.”

  The overhead PA chimed. Lacey gave her boss another polite smile, and turned her attention to the announcement. She wouldn’t mention to the man that her nerves had nothing to do with flying—something she was totally fine with—and everything to do with seeing Victor again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I, ah, know we’re running a little behind.” Half the passengers, most of them certainly heading to Tokyo on business, groaned.

  “And,” he added, “we are just a bit overbooked. As such, we are asking for three volunteers to take a later flight.”

  Lacey rested her head back. She wouldn’t be one of the volunteers.

  A bald man, his shiny scalp glinting in the overhead lights, called out, “I volunteer as tribute!” There were a few chuckles of relief.

  Almost immediately after, Lacey spotted something else glinting—her boss’s gold watch, as he shot his hand in the air.

  Oh, no, she thought. What’s he thinking?

  “See you in Japan.” Greg patted Lacey on the knee, giving her a “take care” kinda wink.

  Outside was dark, since it was eight-oh-five p.m. Lacey really, really didn’t want to make the night go any longer. She already dreaded possibly snoring in front of her coworkers. She sat up taller in her seat, looking behind her. The cameramen were squirming in their seats over whether or not one of them should go with the boss. Her business savvy quickly prodded her to do the only right thing under the circumstances.

  “I’ll go!” She raised her hand high.

  Her boss smiled, peering at her with oddly satisfied eyes.

  A flight attendant ushered the three volunteers to gather their carry-on bags and quickly exit.

  Walking back down the long hall back into the airport, Lacey’s boss said, “I was afraid I’d be stuck with one of the camera guys. They wouldn’t be nearly as good company. Whaddya say we lounge in the airport’s sushi bar for a bit? And don’t worry, the night’s on KZTB.”

  Lacey forced a smile. “Thank you. I guess I will.”

  *

  The sushi bar was pretty empty. Only a couple other patrons sat, at separate small tables, lazily eating. Their flights must have been delayed, and they have nothing better to do, too, Lacey mused.

  At the bar, Greg whipped open his folded napkin, and laid it gingerly across his beige slacks. He then loosened his shiny purple tie with a sigh. “I’m actually pretty hungry,” he said. “I think I’ll order a whole roll.”

  Lacey followed his example, laying her napkin neatly across her black pencil skirt. “I’ve got a pretty healthy appetite myself, tonight.”

  Since it was an airport “restaurant,” the menu was pretty minimal. Lacey was happy to see her favorite sushi on the list—smoked salmon over rice. Before closing her menu, she spotted the Godzilla Roll, and thought of Victor. In honor of seeing him soon, she mentally switched her preference.

  Upon her ordering, Greg chuckled. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a fan of the Godzilla.”

  “Really?” she asked, curious. “What would you have guessed?”

  He paused, evidently liking the challenge. “I see you as liking one of the classics. Hmmm, the smoked salmon.”

  “Good guess.” She laughed.

  “Then why didn’t you order it?”

  “Broadening my horizons?” She arched a brow.

  “Oh, is that all then?”

  Lacey pressed her full lips together, a bit uneasy. Som
ewhere in her moral compass, she considered it in poor taste to discuss private affairs with those in positions of authority, above her. The other part of her, which was excited about seeing Victor soon, didn’t care—she wanted to blab about her boyfriend, even if it was to her boss.

  “Well?” Greg prodded with a knowing smile, as if he were a mind reader. “I knew it. There’s another reason, isn’t there?”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you. I’m dating someone who is pretty much obsessed with Godzilla.” She felt herself blush in embarrassment.

  Greg gave an interested nod in response. “You mean he has, like, the action figures posed on shelving in his apartment. That kind of obsessed?”

  “Well, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he hides those before I come over.” She was serious. Suddenly, she wondered what that implied for their relationship. A guy who played with action figures? Who did that? But there was so much to love about him that she could ignore it.

  “At least you know what to get him for Christmas, huh?” He nudged her. “Don’t worry. He’ll grow out of it… maybe.”

  “Hm,” she simply said. In the moment, Greg didn’t actually seem like such a bad guy.

  The sushi was promptly served. Lacey used chopsticks while Greg opted for silverware. He dug into his Rainbow roll, layered with bright orange salmon, dipping it liberally in wasabi. Lacey very purposefully swished her fried roll into her soy sauce boat, no wasabi, as it was already burning her tongue right off the plate.

  They chatted for over an hour. Greg ordered two cups of saké from the bartender. This allowed for him to open up about his personal affairs, namely with his wife. Turns out, Greg had been telling the truth about her headaches and the problems they caused. Lacey couldn’t help but feel bad for him, and despite herself, she found herself offering solace.