Unwed and Dead (The Dead Ex Files Book 1)

by Claire Kane

  “There’s a gas leak in the basement,” he said. “A woman is trapped in there. Call the cops, the fire department, whoever, or do it yourself. Just do it fast.”

  The maintenance guy perked up, and looked around as if someone had spoken to him. Victor felt his spirit rise. “Gas leak. Basement boiler room. Go!”

  “I’d better get downstairs, pronto,” the man mumbled. He sniffed briefly at the air, and his eyes widened. He turned and raced down the hall, pulling the nearest fire alarm on his way. Strobes burst to life up and down the hallway, accompanied by the anxious wail of the fire alarm.

  Victor had to admire the maintenance man’s bravery. He followed his mad dash down four flights of stairs, and into the mechanical room. He was glad the man had the good sense not to flip the light switch, but to, instead, pull his beefy Maglite from his belt before donning a respirator.

  Victor was grateful to sense no sign of Legion in the vicinity; he had beaten them completely. Then he caught a faint ripple of Lacey’s thoughts; she was still alive, but fading. “Hurry up, dude,” he urged.

  The technician cautiously felt the door with the back of his hand, then, satisfied there was no fire, tried the knob with no success. He paused for thought, then raced across the room to a tool rack, where he grabbed a heavy, rubber mallet. Though Victor was dubious, the technician was dogged and surprisingly strong. The man hammered at the metal knob until Victor heard something give. At once, the old man dragged the door open, and an unconscious Lacey Ling slumped at his feet. Relief washed over Victor, until strange whispers of light started emanating from his ex’s limp state.

  “Oh, no,” he said taken aback, grabbing at where his heart once beat. “Oh, no. Please, God—no. No, no, no…”

  The maintenance man cursed under his breath, wiping his brow, and immediately scooped her off the ground. He ran for the door, shouting for help. Victor’s sense of conquest died in an instant, replaced by the most bitter guilt. He hurried after the maintenance man, stopping only when Lacey was set down in a safe place, whereupon the man jerked off his respirator and immediately began CPR.

  By now, the whispers of light had intensified into a full bodily glow, and then Victor watched as a true angel crawled awkwardly up and out of the shell of his former girlfriend.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Stunned and confused, Lacey wondered why she suddenly felt fine. The room, once impossible to see in, was now nearly as bright a noon day. The doubt, fear, and naked panic that had seized her mind were gone. She felt more alive than she could ever remember. Glancing around the room, she found she’d somehow managed to escape the basement. Something caught her eye, and she glanced down to see an old man hunched over a lifeless woman. Almost instantly, she recognized that woman was her. “No,” she said quietly. “No, I can’t be dead.” She staggered backward and immediately bumped into something warm. She spun with a gasp, and was rendered speechless by the sight of Victor—as visible as he’d been in life—standing there.

  Victor’s heart broke at the sight of Lacey’s big brown eyes, wider than ever, shining up at him. They fixed on his, begging for answers. “I-I’m so sorry, babe,” he mustered, as he surprisingly felt something trickle down from his eye.

  Lacey’s gaze trailed the shimmering teardrop cascading down his cheek, followed by another. Her bottom lip involuntarily pouted out. “Oh, Victor,” she threw her arms around his body. It felt like a real hug. No, better than that. It was the most warmth she had ever felt, like being wrapped in the softest fleece blanket, from head to foot. She snuggled in closer, and Victor obligingly tightened his embrace, clinging to her like a drowning man.

  After a long moment, Lacey broke the embrace and gently pulled slightly away. She reached up to stroke Victor’s face. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “How can I not blame myself? I got you involved with this mess from the start.” He lovingly took hold of her forearm, his dark brows pressing together in anguish.

  Lacey shook her head. “Remember, the killer was actually after me from the start. She just… finally succeeded.”

  She smiled at him with pure charity. Victor couldn’t suppress a modest smile of love in return. “Your sweet cinnamon sprinkles are glowing,” he mused softly.

  She laughed, her lips broadening. His gaze flicked toward them, and she found she knew his thoughts perfectly.

  “Hey,” he said, “you already let me kiss you in the hospital. I’ll be even better this time.” Her smile grew coy, and she found she liked the idea. Tilting her head up, she let him lean in. His lips met hers, as they had in life, and though it seemed trite to say it, the kiss was literally heavenly.

  When they finally separated, she actually giggled. He, of course, wore his usual, impish grin. “Wanna try that again?”

  She swatted him playfully. “Hush, Victor St. John.” They shared a laugh, and a look. Death wasn’t nearly as frightening as Lacey had expected. “What now?” she asked, speaking of their next phase.

  “I don’t know… Do you have any former pets?”

  She paused. “A beta fish named Bennie.”

  “That ought to be interesting.” He peered up at the ceiling, as if awaiting its arrival.

  As if on cue, and to both their surprise, Rao showed up, descending on a little white cloud, her striped, furry arms crossed. Alright, alright. I’m here. You two should get a room.

  “Ms. Tibbits?” Lacey burst.

  Victor turned a wry smile on Lacey. “I told you I wasn’t crazy.”

  The name’s Rao, honey, the feline said with attitude. Lacey was surprised to hear the voice in her mind; the cat never once moved her lips.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Lacey said. She then said out of the side of her mouth at Victor, “Sounds kind of sci-fi, like a robo-cat to me.”

  The cat cut in. Hey, hey, hey. Don’t diss the name. It’s cool. At any rate, I’m here to help Vicky Boy make good on his promise.

  Victor sighed, resigned, then perked up. “Wait—she can come with us, right?”

  With you? Victor, Victor, Victor. I take people to paradise. And you want her to spend an eternity with you? Break out the fire and brimstone, why don’tcha?

  Lacey laughed. At once, the reality of her departure set in. Her expression fell as a new dread crept into her heart. “Wait. What will happen to Nainai?” Her eyes then bounced between Rao and Victor. The cat quirked an eyebrow, but Victor was clearly at a loss for words. Disappointment and guilt warred in his eyes.

  “I-I’m not ready for death. I’m not ready. I-I can’t leave now. I have my life. I have my grandmother.”

  Rao said, now eye-level with her, the cloud dissipating, That’s the struggle every righteous being has when crossing over. Those they leave behind; those they love…

  Victor’s strong gaze pulled Lacey’s eyes to his, and it all became clear.

  Lacey’s heart melted at the revelation of his devotion. “I understand now. I understand. Thank you, Victor.”

  He simply nodded.

  “But, still, really,” Lacey contended, “I can’t leave my Nainai.”

  The fluffy black and gold angel said, Lucky for you, you don’t have to… this time.

  And in the next breath, Lacey’s spirit was pulled back into her body by an unseen force. Immediately, she felt a sharp pain in her ribs, something pressing hard into her. Her eyes fluttered open before a bearded mouth met her lips.

  She sputtered in surprise, and the maintenance man recoiled in shock. “You’re alive!”

  Lacey sat up with a gasp. The warmth and peace she had felt with death were replaced with the stench of gas, and pains all over her body. Before she could process the abrupt and unpleasant change, strong arms scooped her up, and she felt herself being quickly hauled from the mechanical room to the tune of a fire alarm.

  Victor made to follow, but was restrained by a surprisingly strong, if gentle, tug on his elbow. He whirled to see Rao still floating there, eyes expectant. “But,” he said, “she
still needs me.”

  Rao’s eyebrows lifted. What was that you said a few minutes back? Oh, yes. And I quote, “Just let me help Lacey this once. I’ll come home then.” Sound familiar?

  Victor pursed his lips. “I’m still on that ‘just this once’ part.”

  Rao gave him a supremely incredulous look. You’re a real winner, Vic. You know in your heart what you meant. And we both know you’re too honest to go back on a promise. Especially one like that.

  His shoulders sagged. “You’re right.” He sighed, the sense of loss slowly seeping through his body. And yet, Lacey was alive. Literally miraculously. He’d been granted his wish, and he wasn’t going to whine about the price he’d chosen.

  “So do I get to say one, last goodbye to her?”

  Rao smiled knowingly. You just made out with her. I think that counts, even if you didn’t know it was your last goodbye.

  Victor opened his mouth, then thought twice.

  Smart man. Rao turned as if to leave. From above, a shaft of light appeared penetrating the ceiling as if it were open to the sky. Faint, lovely music drifted down, comforting Victor, encouraging him to leave the world he knew behind and take the next step into another.

  Rao gestured at the glowing conduit. And now, you’ve got a little journey waiting.

  Victor looked up into the light. Were he alive, he knew it would be more blinding than staring at the sun. Instead, it was merely pleasant, happy, welcoming. “Just like that, huh?”

  She nodded. Just like that. Although you were too dumb to come willingly the first time.

  “And Lacey? Her attempted murderer is still at large. That makes it a bit harder to leave.”

  The cat’s smiled widened. Oh, we’ve got that covered, don’t you worry. And give Lacey some credit too. We’ll… give her some ideas, but trust her to be smart enough to pull ’em off.

  Victor stared at his former pet, then nodded, somehow knowing she was right. “I’m going to hold you to that. I want to see Lacey in Heaven—soon—but not if she gets here from unnatural causes.”

  The tabby moved away, and called over her shoulder. No one dies of unnatural causes, Victor. They just don’t know what the plan is. Just trust me.

  Victor pursed his lips, and watched as Rao sped away, disappearing through a wall. He waited a long moment, thoughts still locked on the woman he loved. She’d been here, dead as he was, just minutes ago. It had been all he could do to restrain himself from trying to talk her out of going back. And yet, he’d loved her enough to let her go.

  With that, the music seemed to grow a little more pronounced, and a little more inviting. “I love you, Lacey. I always will. Don’t get yourself killed, but know that I’ll be waiting in Heaven when you arrive.”

  With that, he stepped into the light, and, drifting upwards, finally released her.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Clutching her head, the effects of the gas fumes refused to let Lacey go. After stridently insisting that she was fine, and required no more attention, Lacey had simply walked (or, rather, stumbled) away from the old man who had saved her life. Though she wasn’t gaining strength fast, and though she still hurt all over, she managed to keep her feet, sucking in deep lungfuls of fresh air as she made her way out of the KZTB tower.

  Immediately she was assaulted by flashing red and blue lights, and the noisy press of nervous people huddling outside in concerned confusion. A few police officers were trying to direct the crowd further away from the building as several firefighters suited up in SCBA gear. A police cordon was being placed, and she spotted a few officers standing nearer the building, clustered around a motionless form, and taking notes.

  In a flash of insight, she knew who the body had belonged to. “Greg.” She bit her lip, but suppressed her natural curiosity to see what had become of the man who had thought to rape her less than an hour ago. Her top priority was finding the woman who had nearly killed her twice.

  Lacey searched the crowd in vain, but knew before she started that no one was going to be seen in public dressed like a ninja. Lacey’s only real lead was that her assailant was female. Dismayed, she pressed herself into the throng, hoping against hope that she’d find even a small clue—maybe just more of the blood she’d seen trailing on the floor leading back to the boiler room. That trail had ended quickly, and at any rate, Lacey hadn’t been able to follow it for all she was being carried away from danger by a helpful older man. After several minutes of questioning the bewildered bystanders, she got nothing more than a vague comment about some woman having a limp as she exited, though Lacey’s informant hadn’t seen the woman’s face, and was too busy thinking about getting to safety to pay any more attention. Frustrated, and finding no one limping in the crowd, Lacey turned back for the building, ducking under the freshly-placed police tape.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” an officer told her, catching her by the elbow. “Restricted area. Seattle FD confirms we have a gas leak. If you’d please move farther from the building…”

  She reluctantly complied, and faded back through the crowd, trying to contemplate how she was going to get back into the crime scene. An idea flashed in her mind, and she skirted around the crowd of after-hours employees until she found one of the cameramen she knew only by sight. She knew he’d be the perfect accessory for the plan forming in her mind almost as if by magic, and maybe even for a contingency, if it came to that. She hurried to him, and tapped his shoulder. He turned, and regarded her at first with surprise, then with veiled admiration.

  Lacey didn’t waste time rolling her eyes. “You’re on the nightly camera crew, right?” He nodded, clearly confused. “Can you access your camera without going into the building?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “It’s in the van…” he said, vaguely gesturing.

  “Great. I need to borrow you. You can take me out for a drink, later, as payment. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

  *

  Straightening her hair, and double checking to ensure her mic was clipped on and hot, Lacey was ready. She nodded at the cameraman, and a red light on his equipment kicked on. “Good evening. I’m KZTB’s Lacey Ling, reporting to you live from our own tower here in downtown Seattle where a stunning development has occurred.” She gestured to the side, and the nameless cameraman dutifully panned around, taking in the police tape, the shimmer of emergency vehicle lights, and the slowly dispersing onlookers.

  “As you can see,” she continued, “the building has been evacuated. Official word is that a gas leak has occurred inside the building. Employees have been asked to return to their homes and as you can see, they’re doing just that.”

  She signaled the cameraman to bracket her again. When the lens was on her, she put on her most somber face. “Though no injuries have been reported, it appears that a suicide has occurred, with a man apparently having thrown himself from the tower.” At that, the camera pivoted toward where Greg’s corpse lay, and zoomed in. Lacey held her breath, hoping her gambit would work.

  “Though there has been no word from officials as to the likely motive of the suicide, police are investigating the possibility of a connection between the death and the gas leak. Terrorist activity has not been ruled out, though officials do appear to have contained the leak,” and she knew she was making that up whole cloth, “meaning that Seattle’s finest have averted what may have been a terrible, terrible attack.”

  She straightened, fighting not to wince as she did, and put on an air of satisfaction and triumph. “We’ll have more to come, and I’ll be right here, on-site, with coverage throughout the night. For KZTB News, this is Lacey Ling.”

  The red light disappeared, and the cameraman set his equipment down gently. Lacey thanked him, got his name, and made arrangements to check back for another broadcast in a half an hour. In the meantime, she could only wait, and hope the right person had seen the broadcast. She’d put the bait out; now she needed to stay put and be easy to find.

  A movement caught her eye. Turning, she saw
Deborah stumbling in her direction. She whirled to greet her, and was shocked to see the woman’s red, puffy eyes and lack of makeup; she looked like an entirely different person. Just beyond arm’s length, the perky show hostess tripped, but caught herself, then flung her arms around Lacey and squeezed, bursting into tears.

  “Oh my word, Lacey! You’re here. You’re here. I can’t believe this has happened!”

  Lacey gently eased the weeping woman away, eyeing her. “Well, it was just a gas leak and an apparent suicide. I know they’d just raised our health insurance premiums, but jumping off a building seems extreme, don’t you—”

  “Don’t joke at a time like this, Lacey,” Deborah cut in. Glancing at the cameraman, she took Lacey by the elbow. “Excuse us, please.”

  Lacey complied, and allowed Deborah to lead her to a dark, quiet corner of the parking lot, away from the lights and noise. She sucked in a breath, and, clearly verging on another breakdown, jabbed a finger toward where Greg’s body was being covered by a white cloth.

  Deborah pursed her lips and squeezed her eyes shut. After a few moments, she managed to whisper, “That suicide was… that was Greg.” Then she lost it a second time.

  Lacey gasped. “Our boss?”

  “Yes,” the brunette hissed through clenched teeth. Lacey’s arms came up to comfort the woman, but Deborah surprised her by wincing, and shrugging her off fiercely. “Don’t touch me!”

  Lacey recoiled, stunned. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just—”

  “No,” Deborah interrupted, “don’t be sorry. It’s my fault. I just—Greg… he…”

  Lacey felt her heart soften toward the woman. “He was your friend, wasn’t he?”

  Something flashed in the other woman’s eyes, and another sob bubbled up. “Can we,” she stammered, “can we go back to my apartment to talk about this?”

  Lacey blinked, and glanced back at her cameraman, where he stood chatting with a cop. “I was going to do another news spot in a half an hour. Night crew doesn’t really have anyone to cover for me…” She rued the idea of leaving her trap unbaited if she left.