Death & Stilettos

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Death & Stilettos Page 12

by Jason Krumbine


  “So you want to tie the two together?”

  Avery shrugs. “Why not?”

  “Because Raymond Stevens isn’t a reaper,” Brooke says.

  Avery starts for the door. “Doesn’t mean he can’t have one on his payroll.”

  twenty-five

  The security guards hardly give Avery and Brooke a second glance as they cross the lobby floor. That’s good, because the sisters don’t have a reasonable explanation for why they’re each holding a two-foot lead pipe under their jackets.

  They enter the elevator and Avery pushes the button for the 28th floor.

  “Exactly how far are we going?” Brooke asks.

  “Hopefully just to the twenty-eighth floor,” Avery replies.

  “And the other thing?” Brooke asks.

  “Hopefully not far at all,” she checks the time on her cell. “It’s pretty late.”

  “No rest for the wicked is what they say,” Brooke replies.

  “Yeah, well,” Avery glances at the digital readout above the elevator door. “What does that make us?”

  Brooke grins. “The awesome kind of wicked.”

  Avery just shakes her head.

  The elevator comes to a stop, announcing their arrival on the 28th floor with a soft ding and the doors open.

  No one’s waiting for them.

  “So far, so good,” Avery steps out of the elevator. Brooke follows.

  They’re in a tiled hallway. In front of them is a large wall of glass with STEVENS INVESTMENTS, INC written in blocky white letters.

  Avery tries the front door. It opens.

  There’s no receptionist at the desk. The lobby splits off into two hallways.

  “Which way?” Brooke asks quietly. She casts a furtive glance up at the security cameras in the corners.

  Avery pulls out the spectral device.

  “Seriously?” Brooke asks. “You’re going to trust that.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Avery asks. “As I recall we’re down two tapping sticks.”

  Brooke doesn’t say anything.

  Avery flips the switch and the green light comes on right away. She points it in the direction of the left hallway and the light grows a little dimmer.

  “Right it is,” she says pocketing the device.

  They make their way down the hallway.

  The first two doors lead to a rest room and an empty office. Through the third door they find Roy Perkins enjoying a foot-long sub.

  Perkins stops eating, mid-bite, and just stares at the sisters.

  Avery holds up a hand. “Okay, we got started off on the wrong foot earlier. I’d like to not make the same mistake here.”

  Perkins tosses his sandwich to the floor and jumps to his feet, lunging across the room at the sisters.

  They crash back out into the hallway. Perkins slams his hand into Avery’s face, mashing her against the wall.

  “I don’t know who you little Barbies are, but you’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here,” Perkins growls and slams his other fist into Avery’s stomach.

  Perkins turns around, looking for Brooke. He finds the younger sister behind him swinging the two-foot lead pipe.

  The pipe connects solidly with Perkins’ jaw with a sickening crack. His head whips around and Perkins drops to the floor.

  Brooke checks on her sister. “You awake?”

  “Yeah,” Avery mumbles. Brooke helps her back up. “I feel like I got hit with a sledgehammer.”

  “Well, he’s got big fists,” Brooke says.

  “Is he alive?” Avery asks, rubbing her head.

  Brooke shrugs. “Hell if I know.”

  Avery starts to roll her eyes, but it hurts too much, so she stops. She checks on Perkins and finds a pulse.

  “Seriously?” Brooke asks.

  “We’re grim reapers,” Avery replies, stepping over Perkins. “We collect dead souls, we don’t leave them in our wake,” she continues down the hallway.

  “Can we take it as a good sign that our mini brawl with Perkins didn’t attract any attention?”

  Avery stops in front of a green door. “That’s odd,” she says, staring at the door.

  Brooke glances at the door and then checks the other doors in the hallway. The rest are brown.

  “It’s a green door,” she says.

  “A very green door,” Avery agrees and then she kicks it open.

  twenty-six

  There’s a short, naked man, with thick square glasses standing the middle of the room. He’s older, in his sixties, with thinning gray hair. A circle of six women in black robes surrounds him. Each of the women are holding a bucket and seem to be in the process of splashing the naked man with colored liquid.

  They stop what they’re doing and stare at Brooke and Avery, who are standing just outside the door.

  “Honestly,” Brooke whispers to her sister, “out of every possible scenario I imagined, nothing came close to this.”

  “Who the hell are you?” the naked man asks. His mouth is funny shaped and twists in an unflattering way as he talks.

  Avery pulls out her brass badge. “Avery Graves. This is my sister, Brooke. We’re grim reapers. I think you have something that you really shouldn’t.”

  The naked man’s eyes go wide. “Oh, shit.”

  He turns and starts running.

  “I don’t think so,” Brooke says and tosses her lead pipe at the naked man’s bony ass.

  “Damnit!” the naked man shouts as the pipe strikes him. He falls to the floor.

  The women drop their buckets and quickly scatter.

  Brooke and Avery step into the room.

  Avery points over her shoulder. “You ladies might want to leave now.”

  As they race past, Brooke says, “You also might want to look into getting some self respect.”

  Avery looks at her sister. “Really? Kettle calling the pot black, don’t you think?”

  “Hey, there’s a big difference between Lipstick Feminism and whatever it is they were doing,” she says. They stand over the naked man. “Speaking of which, what in the world were you doing?”

  The naked man snarls up at them. His face is covered in blue liquid. “You little bitches, do you have any idea who I am?”

  “It wouldn’t matter,” Avery says. “It’s kind of hard to take you seriously. You do know you’re buck-naked? Seriously, what kind of man gets naked, but keeps all the women clothed? Talk about ass-backwards.” She looks at her sister. “Am I right?”

  Brooke nods. “You are definitely right.”

  “It’s weird,” Avery says to the naked man. “Weird and creepy.” She crouches over him. “Raymond Stevens, right? Where’s Hollway and Gentry?”

  Stevens spits at her. “When I’m through with you, I’m gonna be using your head as a toilet!”

  Avery wipes her face and looks at her sister. Brooke shrugs. “What are you gonna do? Some people.”

  “Some people,” Avery agrees. “Let me put it to you this way, Mr. Stevens, you’re in possession of two deceased souls. That’s illegal.”

  “Do I look like a man who cares about legalities?” Stevens asks.

  “Well, from where I’m standing,” Avery says, “you look like a very vulnerable naked man who doesn’t have any hired help around to save his bony ass.”

  Stevens looks past Avery and seems to suddenly realize that Perkins hasn’t come rushing to his rescue.

  “Yeah,” Brooke says, “we already got the big guy. We owed him some payback.”

  The anger drops from Stevens face and it’s replaced with a healthy dose of fear.

  “One more time,” Avery asks. “Where’s Gentry and Hollway?”

  At the back of the room there’s a heavy green curtain. Stevens pulls it back to reveal two men sitting in circles made of sigils painted on the floor. They’re Gentry and Hollway. Their faces look gaunt and worn. Their skin is a ghostly color. Their expressions are dazed and blank. But it’s still them.

  Avery touches one
of the sigils. It feels like dried blood. “These are binding sigils,” she says.

  “Nice,” Brooke says. “Very professional looking, too.”

  “I was going to say the same thing,” Avery agrees. She looks at Stevens. “There’s no way you did this. So who did it for you?”

  Stevens clamps his mouth shut and just glares at Avery.

  “Okay, I see what’s happening here,” Brooke says. “You keep forgetting you’re naked. That cuts into your intimidation factor a lot, in that you have none.”

  “Ooh, I’m quaking in my boots,” Stevens sneers. “What are you going to do? Wait for me to die of old age and then enact some horrible revenge?” he snorts. “Take these losers and get the hell out of my office.”

  “We’re going to do our job and take these two poor souls,” Avery says. “But I want some answers first.”

  “Gonna be a cold day in Hell,” Stevens says.

  “I’ll bet,” Avery tosses the cuffs to Brooke. “Take ‘em downstairs.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Get some answers” Avery replies.

  Brooke cuffs Gentry and Hollway and walks them out of the room. “Come on, boys, I’ll take you to get some donuts before we send you to the afterlife.”

  Avery’s left alone with Stevens.

  A few minutes tick by with Avery just staring at Stevens.

  “Am I supposed to be scared?” Stevens asks. “Because if I am, you have a long way to go.”

  She pushes Stevens into the center of one of the sigil circles.

  “I may be just a crazy old man,” Stevens starts dryly.

  “Oh, there’s no maybe about it,” Avery interjects.

  “But even I know that these circles don’t work on the living,” Stevens finishes.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Avery goes around the outside of the circle. She takes a stick figure shapes from her pocket and places them on top of the sigils. She puts down six, one for each of the sigils. “First thing I want to know: why hang on to Gentry and Hollway?” she asks, coming back around to the front of the circle.

  Stevens just stands there in the center of the circle, arms folded.

  Avery nods. “Right,” she fishes out a lighter from her jacket pocket. She reaches down to the first stick figure shape and lights it. The blue flame stretches up to the ceiling. “The sigils don’t have any effect on the living. On that point, you’re absolutely right,” Avery says. “But there’s three classes of grim reapers: wood, metal and cloth. They’re commonly referred to as: stick magic, metal magic and cloth magic,” she pauses, checking Stevens’ expression. “The guy you had working for you didn’t mention any of this, did he?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stevens looks off to the side.

  Avery lights the next stick figure. Another tall column of blue fire. Stevens’ is starting to look antsy.

  “You’re right. The binding sigils don’t have any effect on the living,” Avery says. “Funny thing, though, combined with the sigils, stick magic will have an effect on the living.” She lights the third stick figure. “So, why did you keep Gentry and Hollway?”

  Stevens’ swallows nervously. He’s not getting warm from the columns of fire, but he is getting cold. “Those little bastards already screwed me over once, I didn’t want to take the chance that they would do it again after they were dead.”

  Avery stares at him. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?” he snaps. He’s running his hands up and down his arms. “How was I supposed to know they weren’t going to haunt some police station or some ambitiously open minded lawyer?”

  Avery rubs the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe this. And how long were you planning on keeping them?”

  Stevens shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “And who helped you?” Avery asks.

  Stevens’ eyes twitch nervously. “Nobody.”

  “That’s a lie,” Avery lights the fourth stick figure. “You had Gentry and Hollway’s souls pulled before they were ever killed. You also had these binding sigils put in. Who did all that for you?” She lights the fifth stick figure.

  “Hey!” Steven cries as the fifth column of fire appears. It’s cold enough inside that the circle Stevens’ can see his breath.

  “Who helped you?” Avery repeats, standing over the sixth stick figure.

  Stevens’ teeth are chattering when he says, “Marcus Ibanez.”

  Avery’s stunned silent.

  Stevens watches her and laughs. “Oh, you weren’t expecting that, were you? Heh.” His teeth are chattering away like a well-oiled typewriter now.

  Avery frowns. She reaches down to the sixth stick figure.

  “Hey!” Stevens cries out. “What are you doing? I told you everything!”

  “There’s another part to my job,” Avery explains. “It’s kind of an unofficial part. Our Dad used to do it and I wanted to keep that tradition alive. I like to help the dead souls that we collect, give them some closure, maybe even a little justice, as they pass.” She looks Stevens right in the eye. “You’re a cold-hearted bastard and Gentry and Hollway definitely deserve some justice.”

  She lights the sixth stick figure.

  “You son of a bitch!” Stevens howls as the sixth column of fire goes up. There’s a flash and the circle’s encased in a block of ice, with Stevens at the center.

  Avery stands there and Stevens’ eyes flicker with desperate insanity. “Don’t worry. You’re not going to die. We’re grim reapers. We collect dead souls, we don’t make them. However, you are going to be stuck like for,” she checks the time, “at least a couple of hours. Plenty of time for you to think about what you’ve done.” She pockets the lighter. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get all reflective and have a change of heart.”

  After a few minutes finally she turns her back and goes to join her sister downstairs.

  Brooke’s leaning against the car, as she waits for Avery. The streetlight on the corner is flickering as it goes through its final moments of life. She spots her older sister stepping out.

  Avery’s on her cellphone. “Jackson? It’s your favorite beautiful grim reaper. You might not know the name, but you’ll want to look into Raymond Stevens. I think he can help with the murders of those two accountants.”

  “Well?” Brooke asks after Avery hangs up. “Did you do the ice wall trick?”

  “I did the ice wall trick.”

  “I wish you would’ve let me stick around.”

  Avery walks around the car to the driver’s side. “You don’t have a very good poker face.”

  “You get answers?”

  “I got answers.” Avery gets in the car.

  Gentry and Hollway are sitting in the backseat. Their expressions haven’t changed.

  Brooke gets in the passenger side. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Avery starts the car. “You’ll never guess who we want.”

  Brooke waits.

  “Marcus Ibanez,” Avery says.

  Brooke’s sitting with the accountants in the Waiting Room. Avery’s standing against the opposite wall. She doesn’t look happy.

  “I’ll be honest,” Avery says, “I feel like we got played.”

  “It does feel that way,” Brooke agrees. “Except…”

  “How come we’ve got these two?” Avery nods at the accountants.

  Brooke looks at them. “Yeah. If Ibanez was looking to make some money, why not take these guys, too?”

  “Maybe Stevens offered him more money not to,” Avery says.

  “Maybe we should ask Stevens,” Brooke says.

  Avery checks the time. “Yeah, he’s still on ice. Also, when we walked in on him he was buck naked.”

  “Right. That was gross,” Brooke thinks about it for a second. “What do you wanna do?”

  “Have a talk with whoever’s heading up Messor & Decessus,” Avery replies.

  “And then?”

  “Well, for starters, we ow
e somebody a punch in the nuts,” Avery says.

  Brooke snaps her fingers. “I had forgotten all about that.”

  Avery falls silent, staring at the carpet.

  “You okay?” Brooke asks.

  Avery looks up. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine,” she points out.

  “Long day,” Avery says. “I’m tired.”

  Brooke nods her head, stretching out in her chair. “I hear that. You know what would be the perfect end to this day?”

  “Sixty minutes at Florentio’s Spa?” Avery suggests. “I’m thinking a massage and facial.”

  Brooke opens her mouth and then closes it. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

  “It’s a great idea is what it is,” Avery says.

  “But it’s not what I was shooting for,” Brooke says.

  “Because you were shooting for something dirty.”

  “Steven the bartender.” Brooke smiles.

  Avery smiles back at her. “But you don’t have his number.”

  Brooke pulls out her cell and goes to her most recent calls. She shows the list to her sister. “I know his number is one of these.”

  “Are you going to call each one of those numbers?”

  “No,” Brooke says, pocketing the cellphone again. “Of course not. He’ll call me.”

  “He’ll call you?” Avery repeats, but without the confidence Brooke had.

  “Absolutely.” She gives a sly smile.

  “He hasn’t called you yet,” Avery points out. “The entire day has gone by and he hasn’t called you.”

  “Not relevant.”

  “Uh-huh. How is this any different from the guy last night?”

  “Ass Man?”

  “Don’t call him that.”

  “I don’t remember his name,” Brooke explains. “It’s different because it’s Steven.”

  “That’s it?”

  “And because I gave Steven my number,” Brooke finishes. “With explicit instructions to call me.”

  “Because all men are good with instructions,” Avery replies with a tone of doubt.

 

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