by Claire Kane
Victor opened his mouth to speak, but only a round, “Uhh…” came out.
Rao cleared her throat beside him, and he looked up to see her settling a pair of spectacles across her nose, and pulling a book literally out of thin air. When you figured out how to blend with Lacey’s mind, you connected with her in a way that’s very special. She’s not actually seeing you, but you’re now so closely connected that her mind can see, hear, and even just slightly feel you. Well, feel your presence. To her, though, it looks as though you’re standing right there. And you can both communicate mind-to-mind, just like I wish you would with me.
All angels can do this. We just typically don’t unless we have permission. It tends to break the rules. As you don’t seem all that interested in rules, and as Lacey already sees you, there’s not much point—yet—in breaking that connection. Congratulations. You just cheated part of death.
Victor looked at his beloved. “Did you catch any of that, Lace?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Any of what?”
“What Ms. Tibbits—”
Rao! Rao! Rao!
“—what my cat said?”
Lacey sighed. “Fine. I’ll pretend your dead cat is here, too. What did Ms. Tibbits whisper in that cute little ear of yours?”
Rao sighed heavily. I give up.
“She said that you and I had a special connection that lets you see and hear me. See? Told you we were a good pair. And…” he paused, and Lacey suddenly felt a ripple of embarrassment from him.
“You were really serious about that ring you bought me, weren’t you?”
He nodded sheepishly.
She smiled, and instinctively placed a hand on his shoulder—only to have it pass right through. She hid her blush, and coughed, thinking, I’m glad we’re not doing this when I’m on air.
“Well, enough of that,” he said. “We’ve got one day left in Tokyo. Whaddya say we do a little sleuthing? You’re an investigative reporter for a living. I’ve seen the way you’ve snooped around Tokyo looking for the dirt on the scoops you’ve covered. This is right up your alley.”
Lacey clenched her teeth apprehensively. She still had a lot of work to take care of with regards to getting Nainai packed and ready to go. At the same time, part of her actually wanted to know what had happened to Victor, but she knew the difference between being a journalist and being a cop. Her command of the Japanese language wasn’t even all that good, still, and there were so many reasons she should just get on the plane the day after tomorrow and leave it all behind. And yet… maybe for just one day… just to scratch that itch of curiosity…
“I can tell you’re thinking about it,” Victor said, smiling that dorky smile of his. Lacey felt her heart flutter a bit at the boyish cuteness of it, and promptly chastised herself.
“Am not,” she muttered.
“Look,” Victor said, “I know you’ve got your grandma to take care of. Go do that. I’ll nose around Tokyo today and tomorrow, and will let you know if I find anything. We’ll all fly home together.”
Lacey frowned. “I don’t want to have to look all over Tokyo for you when it’s time to board the plane.”
He smiled, and sauntered up to her. “You won’t have to. Now that we’re connected, mind to mind, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to figure out where you are.” He looked toward his cat. “Right, Rao?”
Rao nodded. You’re actually getting smarter. I’m surprised.
Victor let the remark go. “Lacey?”
Lacey locked eyes with him, feeling her heart thud a little harder at his tone. Stop it, Lacey, she chided herself. Even if he weren’t dead…
“I just had to see you again. You were worth sticking around for.”
It was all Lacey could do to not let her reaction show. She pasted on an “Aww, that’s sweet,” smile. “Thank you, Victor. You were a good friend.” Turning quickly away before her face could betray her, she strode to her suitcase. “So, you go enjoy Tokyo. Check in with me if you find any good leads. I’ve got a lovely old lady to talk into a long flight.”
TEN
The plane ride home, two days later, was strange for Lacey, especially since Victor thought it fun to fly along. He took a window seat… outside. She shook her head for the hundredth time that morning, and glanced back at him floating along as if in an invisible reclining chair, hands behind his head. Not one dark hair on his head shifted in the wind.
A flight attendant rattled a cart of drinks to Lacey. She decided against liquor; she needed all the sensibilities she had, at the moment. Plus, Nainai, although snoring, was sitting beside her. “Just a cranberry, thank you.”
Meanwhile, Victor was making the most of being dead. Denial? Perhaps. As he sat there, reclining, he turned to look at Lacey through the window with an occasional smile. She didn’t seem too amused. Rao declined the invitation to travel along, since she “had better things to do,” though she promised to check in with Victor after the flight.
Victor turned on his side, his knees bent, as if lying on a bed of clouds. He watched as his ex downed a red beverage, hoping his predicament wasn’t pushing her to drink. He sighed, looking at her elegant profile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman walking down the narrow aisle to the bathroom. He glanced up. The woman had a full head of blond hair, bouncing as she went. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew that bounce. And, unexpectedly, he could sense her presence.
Jessica?
In the next second, Victor was standing in the aisle, facing the woman. The small chin, the high cheekbones, the man-eating sparkle in her green eyes—yep, it was her all right.
“Okay, so not only did you break into my apartment repeatedly, but you’re stalking me on the flight home?” he asked just before her body passed through his, a strange sensation waving through his spirit… and it wasn’t good.
One of her passing thoughts grabbed him. Victor is so dead now. He’ll wish he’d never met me.
He stumbled, and reached for a seat’s back to steady himself, but his hand went through. He fell to his knees, and whipped his head around to watch his ex-ex-girlfriend retreat into a lavatory.
Then another strong sensation waved through his body as a cart rattled through him, followed by the flight attendant. That time it wasn’t a negative energy, just weird. “I’ve got to stop letting people walk on me,” he said out loud.
Realizing Lacey was a few rows away—and he could indeed yell without causing security to pounce on him like he was loaded with 8 ounces of shampoo—he called out, “Hey, babe! I mean… Lacey!”
The back of her head slightly jerked, so he knew she heard him.
“Lacey, you’ll never believe who’s on the plane!” He reached her row of seats, and squatted next to her, peeking across the legs of the other passengers in her row.
Lacey’s eyes shifted to him, but her face stayed placid.
“It’s my ex!”
She rolled her eyes at that.
“What?” He paused, then it dawned on him. “Not you! This is no joke. I mean, you’re here, but I’m talking about my other ex, Jessica Simcox! Crazy, right? She just walked right through me on her way to the bathroom. She’s in there right now.” He motioned hastily with a thumb.
Lacey’s eyebrows raised to that, and she half stood, glancing back toward the lavatories. He knew she was thinking what he was thinking. Could she of all people have murdered him?
The man closest to Victor crossed his legs, causing a swift kick through his head. “Jeez, man, could you watch it?” he scolded, although that was nothing like full body contact.
“Lacey, we have to find out why she’s here! I know it’s jumping to conclusions, but I need to know if she’s the one! I mean, what are the odds? She stalked me to Tokyo; I’m not sure how she even knew I was there. Then she found my address and broke into my place twice. That’s got to mean something. And the whole ‘To you, my love’ note? Totally fits her style.”
The man next to Lacey swiftly uncrossed his legs, agai
n swooshing through Victor. “Could you please stop that?” Victor narrowed his eyes at him in annoyance, then resumed. “This is our first lead. You and me—we can solve this. The good thing is, she doesn’t even know you! You can do that female bonding stuff, start some chit chat after we land, and see what her excuse is for having been in Japan.”
Lacey gave him a look, and even without being able to read her mind, he knew it meant, “Could we possibly come up with a dumber idea?”
Flustered, he asked, “Do you have something better than that? I’m all ears.”
Lacey pursed her lips, then gave him a smile she knew he couldn’t possibly misinterpret.
He took a step back, ignoring the fact that he had just slid his leg through an armrest. “Uh oh. You’re going to have fun with this, aren’t you?”
Her smile widened, and she nodded.
*
Lacey Ling never was a practitioner of the art of “female chit chat.” But, by Buddha, she’d become one, if need be. She was a journalist. They talk a lot. Why wouldn’t this be more of the same? Trailing Jessica down the gangway by about twenty feet, pushing Nainai’s wheelchair, while rolling a carry-on suitcase, Lacey’s pulse beat faster. She would do it. She would approach the woman, and do so nonchalantly. She wondered why she had expected this would be fun.
Yet she had it all planned out in her mind. They’d both happen to be standing near one another at their designated luggage carousel. Lacey would find a way to offer the stranger a compliment. Maybe something about her red high heels, since they didn’t look cheap. Said stranger would give some kind of bimbo giggle and thank her. Then Lacey’d just do it—ask her right out, “What brought you to Japan?”
Seven minutes later…
Victor stood a slight distance away, brow furrowed under some serious apprehension. His arms crossed, he gave a curt wave under an elbow for Lacey to get a move on already. Jessica stood, hands on hips, awaiting her suitcase. Lacey moved in closer, a few feet from Nainai, and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a ringing. Jessica pulled a cell phone, with more bling than Flavor Flav, out of her skinny jeans.
“Hello?” Jessica answered.
In the next instant, Lacey witnessed Victor suddenly flash beside the woman, literally leaning his ear to her phone, almost cheek to cheek.
Lacey sighed. This mission was getting more annoying by the second. How could she possibly compete for attention with a cell phone, especially with Victor plastered to it?
“Yes, for my ultrasound?” Jessica responded. “Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you. Oh, of course I know who the father is. He’s just coming back from Japan. Yes. Yes. Uh huh. Victor St. John, yes. Okay. Bye!”
Victor’s jaw dropped emphatically, as he pointed. “She’s pregnant? And she thinks I’m the kid’s dad? I’ve never even seen her in a bathrobe, let alone slept with her. Hurry and ask her why she went to Japan.”
A group of travelers clamored at the appearance of some luggage. Jessica was one of them. She leaned over and snatched up a leopard-printed suitcase; Lacey saw her last chance.
“Oh, hey,” Lacey spoke nearly over the woman’s shoulder. “That’s… quite the suitcase.” Crap, she thought. That was an ambiguous compliment, almost sounding more like an insult.
Jessica turned to Lacey, tilting her head with a confused look.
“I mean,” Lacey hurried, “I love the pattern. Where on, um, earth did you find it? Maybe I could buy one, you know.”
Jessica eyed her up and down. “Doesn’t look like your style,” she said simply.
That’s when Victor popped in-between them, speaking to Lacey. “Tell her it looks Italian. She raved about it when she bought it. I remember.”
Stepping aside slightly, to see Jessica, Lacey quickly said, “It’s Italian, right?”
“French,” Jessica cocked a thin brow.
Victor interjected, “I meant French!”
Lacey gave an awkward laugh, wanting to strangle Victor. “Of course. Italian, French—the two are so similar. Fashion capitals of the world.”
Jessica looked overly bored with the comment.
“And actually,” Lacey thought of the perfect segue, like any proper journalist, “Japan is competing in the world of fashion. Is that what brought you to Japan to begin with? Are you a model?”
“If you’re trying to hit on me,” Jessica tossed some hair behind a shoulder, “you’re barking up the wrong tree. Besides, I’m taken.”
Now Lacey was mad. She wanted to kick a hole in her French luggage. She clenched her jaw, but thought better than to berate the murder suspect. “You’re taken? Darn it. You got me.” She feigned seriousness. “Who’s the lucky man?” Oh, that felt creepy. She’d take another shower that afternoon.
Victor’s eyes went wide at her.
“Like I’d tell you. Wouldn’t want you to stalk him.”
Victor muttered, “She’s one to talk…”
“Is it Victor?” Lacey blurted.
Jessica paused, her face turning a shade of angry red. “I have to go, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned with a whip of her hair, the quick clacking of her heels echoing as she left.
Victor stepped beside Lacey. “You did good.”
“Really?” Lacey huffed. “I’ve been an investigatory journalist, and yet the most information gathered was from her phone call… which you overheard, not me. I can do better than that.”
“That woman can’t be trusted,” Nainai cut into her thoughts, sitting patiently in her wheelchair nearby.
“Huh?” Lacey turned to her. “Why do you say that?” she asked, truly interested.
“I heard her talking to her lady doctor about being pregnant with Victor’s child.” She shook her head. “Now I may not know Victor that much, but what I do know is he would never go that far with someone like that.”
Victor stepped right beside Lacey, and with a satisfied smile said, “Did I ever tell you how much I like your grandma?”
Lacey frowned. “That was a bust. I could chase her, but I don’t want to be escorted out of the airport by security.”
Nainai smiled strangely. “What possessed you to start talking to her in the first place, dear?”
Lacey pursed her lips. “I think you may be more right about ‘possessed’ than you know.”
Her grandmother took her hand. “Well, people who talk to themselves the way you were doing, just now, often have secrets that most of us don’t know. You’re not too young to be crazy. Confucius say, ‘Dead boyfriends make for best conversation. They always understand and agree with you.’ I am so sorry you lost him.”
Lacey bit her lip, not wanting to say any of the many things Nainai’s words had sent swirling in her mind. Victor, for his part, actually did seem to understand Lacey’s feelings, and she could see the sympathy written on his face.
At last, Lacey got it together. Moments later, her luggage appeared, with Nainai’s close behind it. She gathered the heavy bags, ignoring Victor’s excuses for not helping, and took hold of her grandmother’s wheelchair. “Let’s get you home, Nainai.”
Victor fell in next to her. “Lacey? I think I should trail Jessica. Something’s obviously screwy. I know I’m not the father of her child. And why was she in Japan anyway?”
Lacey screwed up her nose. I have no idea, Victor. You saw what just happened.
“I did, yeah. But don’t worry—I just have to sit and listen. Though, if I could freak her out a bit, that might be fun, too.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. “You are such a moron, Victor,” she muttered.
“You want me to move on?” Nainai asked,
“No, Nainai,” Lacey replied soothingly. “I was just talking to myself.”
Nainai nodded sagely. “Remember what Confucius just said.”
ELEVEN
Victor was never a huge fan of doctor offices. He was even less fond of OB/GYN offices. He knew enough about what probably went on that he knew he didn’t want to know. Once, at a coffee shop, he had
accidentally overheard a couple women discussing something to do with oven mitts and a cold, metal grabber. He got his coffee to go, that morning.
And so he gritted his teeth outside the small clinic, watching Jessica disappear through the front door. The tension was just as real, dead, as when he had been alive, but he no longer had any muscles to relax, and he couldn’t do anything to control his breathing.
Odds were, Jessica wasn’t actually crazy enough to kill him, but to find that he was being blamed for her pregnancy? He was just glad he wasn’t around to have to worry about it. Only he was still around, and he did worry about it. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and made his way after her.
The place looked like any other medical office, except that the magazines all had covers of women in various stages of pregnancy and undress. He turned away, grateful he was no longer subject to queasiness. Under the circumstances, the beauty of pregnancy was lost on the thought of being framed by a psycho ex.
Jessica was standing at the counter, looking as stylishly fake as ever, while a receptionist handed her a form and asked her basic questions which Victor pretended he couldn’t hear. Instead, he wondered what had actually happened. He’d figured out, pretty early in his time dating her, that she was the kind of girl his mom had warned him about. He’d been hard pressed to resist her advances more than once, and it didn’t surprise him to think she’d suckered some other guy—probably even the same night Victor had finally wised up and dumped her. If she were actually pregnant, though, his heart went out to her and to her future child.
Jessica took a seat to fill out some paperwork, and Victor tried probing her mind. She had stalked him to Tokyo, and she had managed to get into his apartment, somehow; his landlord never did change the locks after that, despite Victor’s insistence. Though Rao had proven impeccably honest and annoyingly correct, Victor thought it was possible that the cat might still not have all the facts. So it was that Victor merged on to the insane freeway of Jessica’s thoughts, only to exit immediately under a whirlwind of thoughts and images of pregnancy and related matters; though he did pick up something about a one-night stand.
