Death & Stilettos

by Jason Krumbine

  Brooke ignores her sister’s chastising tone. “Danny the Dead Guy’s wife? The first one? Turns out she died six months after they sold their little matchmaker website for a crap load of money,” Brooke says.

  “What did she die from?”

  “Nobody knows,” Brooke says. “It’s assumed it was diabetes related, but the family refused an autopsy.”

  Avery doesn’t find anything in the filling cabinet. “That’s interesting,” she says.

  “Especially given Daniel’s behavior right before he died,” Brooke adds.

  “Yeah,” Avery agrees. “What about Kristen?”

  “Well, like the dead guy says, she disappeared five years ago,” Brooke says. She burps loudly over the phone. Avery’s pretty sure she could smell it through the receiver. “Ricky says he can cross-reference her against all the dead Jane Does from five years ago, but it’s going to take some time. He was able to find out that she enrolled in Henderson College, but she failed all her classes. Hey, did you know you can fail a college course by just not showing up?”

  “Yes, I actually knew that,” Avery says. “And you would have too, had you actually gone to college.”

  “Hey, college boys are hot,” Brooke says, “but I don’t need an excuse to pick them up, if you know what I mean.”

  “I don’t and I’m glad of it,” Avery rubs her jaw. “What else?”

  “I got a weird text from Steven the bartender.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Why would I lie about getting a text from him?” Brooke asks.

  “Why would you bring it up now?” Avery replies.

  “Well, let me read you the text and I think you’ll understand.”

  “No,” Avery cuts her off. “I’m kind of in the middle of being a trespasser here and I really don’t want to hear what Steven the bartender texted you.”

  “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what he texted me,” Brooke says.

  Avery rolls her eyes. “Please. We’re not horny teenagers.”

  “Well, you’re right about the teenager part,” Brooke concedes. “What are you doing?”

  “I tracked down Brian’s other brother.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Ralph Mason,” Avery says. “Runs some sort of import/export thing down by the docks.”

  “You find anything?”

  “A butt load of nothing.”

  Brooke doesn’t say anything for a minute. “What are you thinking?”

  Avery scratches her nose. “I’m thinking there are plenty of legitimate businesses down here by the docks.”

  “That’s an odd thought.”

  “Maybe not so odd when you think about what an ass Brian’s other brother was yesterday.”

  “Okay,” Brooke replies. “I think I see. Speaking of seeing, I really need to read you this text message.”

  “What are you doing next?” Avery asks her.

  “Depends on your thoughts about this text message.”

  “And what if you don’t read me that text message?”

  “I was thinking about getting lunch.”

  “Are you going to the college?”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Brooke replies.

  “Well, start,” Avery says.

  “Come on,” Brooke whines. “Not cool.”

  “We don’t get paid to be cool.”

  “We don’t get paid if we don’t turn over the dead souls,” Brooke shoots back. She fumes on the other end the line. “I hate you.”

  “You’ll hate me less after you get that fuzzy feeling from doing something good,” Avery says.

  “Yeah, that’s only going to happen if that fuzzy feeling comes with either a crap load of money or a fantastic orgasm,” Brooke says.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Avery says.

  The office door opens.

  “Okay, I have to go now,” Avery says suddenly and hangs up as Ralph Mason walks into the office. Avery gives him a little wave. “Hi.”

  eighteen

  Ralph is almost a spitting image of his younger brother, at least, based on the few pictures Avery’s seen of Brian. He’s got a full head of hair and heavy sideburns. His face is a little pinched and he stands about a head taller than Avery. He’s dressed in slacks and a button down shirt, though the outfit seems awkward on him.

  Ralph doesn’t seem particularly surprised to see Avery.

  “Hi,” Avery says again.

  “You’re the grim reaper,” Ralph says finally, setting his briefcase down.

  Avery nods, hooking her thumbs through the belt loops on her pants. “So you’ve spoken to your brother.”

  Ralph walks around to the other side of his desk. “Which one?”

  That catches Avery off guard. “I beg your pardon.”

  Ralph laughs to himself, but it’s devoid of any humor. “Brian called me this morning.”

  Avery pauses, tilting her head to her side. “We are talking about your dead brother, right?”

  He settles back in his chair. “Yeah, it came as a shock to me, too.”

  Ralph doesn’t offer anything else and Avery stands there awkwardly for a moment.

  “This isn’t normally how these things go,” she says finally.

  “How do they normally go?”

  “Normally the family of the deceased is a little more broken up over the death of their loved ones,” she admits.

  Ralph shrugs. “Sorry. We had a complicated relationship with Brian.”

  “So I’m learning,” Avery replies. “So, what did Brian say?”

  “You know, I’m not so sure I should tell you that,” Ralph replies. “Ben didn’t have a very high opinion of you.”

  “I got the impression that Ben doesn’t have a very high opinion of anyone,” Avery says.

  “That’s true,” Ralph agrees. “But in our line of work it’s hard to think too highly of anyone. You get jaded fast.”

  “And what line of work is that exactly?”

  Ralph shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

  Avery pulls out her grim reaper badge. “I may have a badge, but I’m not law enforcement.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider the badge, then,” Ralph suggests. “I think it puts people on edge.”

  She pockets the badge. “I just want what’s best for your brother and his wife.”

  Ralph nods his head. “Well, that’s an unfortunate choice of words. You see, that particular phrase has been thrown around Brian his entire life. I guess it’s only appropriate to use it in his death, too.”

  “Mr. Mason,” Avery says. “Ralph. I’m not here to argue with you. I’m not here to fight with you. I’m here to help your brother. What did he say to you on the phone this morning?”

  Ralph runs his hands through his hair. “You know, I would have never thought about a dead person using a phone, but now that it’s happened, it doesn’t seem all that weird.”

  Avery holds her silence, waiting him out.

  “Brian didn’t say much,” Ralph gives in. “Mostly it was a lot of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘You’ll never be able to hurt us again.’”

  Avery raises an eyebrow.

  Ralph rests his hands on the desk. “I’m sure you got quite the cold shoulder from Ben.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “We were an inclusive family,” Ralph continues. “My brothers and I inherited the family business when our father died last year. Ben and I took to it just fine. Brian, however, he...” Ralph pauses. He stares past Avery at nothing in particular. “Brian was different. He always was. Ben and I never had any trouble solving our troubles with our fists. Brian, though, he wasn’t like that. He had dreams and those dreams didn’t have anything to do with following in our father’s footsteps. Honestly, I didn’t care. I loved my brother and I was happy for him. Ben, well, he thought differently. Loyalty and responsibility are important to him and when it seemed like Brian was shirking his, it added to a lifet
ime of problems between a younger brother and his older brother.”

  “You and Ben weren’t fond of Cindy?” Avery asks.

  Ralph shrugs. “We didn’t really have a chance to form an opinion. One minute Brian had his head shoved in a book, trying to write the next great children’s novel, the next he was married and looking to leave town. Ben really didn’t like that.” Ralph falls silent, picking at his fingernails. “You’re not going to find my brother around me or Ben.”

  “Where am I going to find him?” Avery asks.

  Ralph pulls a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “Caller ID’s an amazing thing these days.” He hands her the paper. “This is the number my brother called me from this morning.” Ralph looks Avery in the eyes. There’s no anger or hate there, just sadness. “I didn’t always agree with Brian, but I loved him very much. Please take care of him.”

  In the pink sedan, Avery pulls out her cellphone and dials the number Alan gave her.

  She hears the recording, “The number you have dialed is unavailable. Please hang up and try your call again.”

  “Of course,” Avery mutters. “A dead man would call from a number that wasn’t in service.”

  She dials Brooke’s number.

  “Hey, where are you?” Avery asks.

  “Same place I was when I last talked to you,” Brooke replies.

  Avery closes her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Daniel Jones isn’t the only dead man making calls today,” Avery says.

  “He isn’t?”

  “Brian Mason made a call to one of his brothers after he died,” Avery says. “I got the number he called from and tried to call it back. It’s out of service.”

  “Oooh, spooky,” Brooke says, using her best haunted voice.

  “Isn’t it, though?”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “I’m gonna talk to Annie at the phone company,” Avery says. “Maybe I can find out whose number it is.”

  “Sweet,” Brooke says. “While you’re there, do you think you can get me her brother’s number?”

  “Annie’s brother?” Avery asks.

  “Yes.” Brooke says. “She has a brother that fulfills all my necessary requirements: He’s gorgeous, he has an ass that won’t quit and, apparently, he’s hung like a horse. So, please and thank you.”

  “Oh, no,” Avery says. “No. No. No. Don’t you have enough men in your life right now?”

  “No such thing,” Brooke replies. “They’re like Pokémon cards. Gotta catch them all.”

  Avery groans. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Besides,” Brooke continues. “I told you I’m planning on dumping Steven the bartender.”

  “The more you talk about him, the less I’m convinced that’s going to happen.”

  “Maybe if you would let me read this text message to you, you’d think differently,” Brooke suggests. “It starts with-”

  Avery cuts her off again. “I really don’t want to know.”

  “When will you want to know?” Brooke asks. “Just so that I know how long I need to put my life on hold for your advice.”

  Avery rolls her eyes. “Just don’t forget to go to the college.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  nineteen

  Henderson College’s Head of Admissions is a fifty-year-old man with a thick, bulky frame and a dark gray Van Dyke beard who goes by the name Harry Grant. His voice rumbles like an avalanche when he speaks.

  “Ms. Graves,” he says. “You are a very lucky lady.”

  Brooke smiles and does a little flick with her hair. Grant was pretty much under her spell the minute she walked in, but it didn’t hurt to make sure he stayed there.

  Grant’s holding the picture of Kristen Jones that Brooke had handed to him and shaking his head as though he can’t believe it. “I am probably the only person here that still remembers her.” Grant settles back in his leather chair and looks at Brooke. “What happened?”

  Brooke crosses her legs and uses her really professional voice. “That’s actually what I’m trying to figure out. Since enrolling here five years ago, Kristin’s gone missing. Her father recently passed away. My sister and I were hired by the law firm handling his estate. Apparently, he’s left her a large sum of money and we would really like to make sure she gets it.”

  “And your search for Ms. Jones has brought you all the way to our humble campus?”

  Brooke just shrugs. “I’m tracking down any possible leads, despite how much of a long shot they may seem to be.”

  “I think a college that she briefly attended almost a half a decade ago is a little more than just a long shot.” Grant studies the photo again for a moment.

  Brooke nods. “But you remember her?”

  “Only because she was an absolute nightmare to deal with,” Grant hands the photo back. “I’m sorry, let me correct that. Kristen was an absolute peach. A delightful young lady. Her father, however…He was one of those wealthy pricks that insisted on nothing less than gold plated textbooks for his daughter.” He pauses. “It was a trial just getting her signed up for classes. Kristen would come in with one list of classes and then the next day her father would show up with a completely different list,” Grant rubs his forehead. “As I said, it was a nightmare.”

  Brooke pockets the picture. “You don’t happen to know what happened to her, do you? I know that she enrolled, but she flunked out of all of her courses.”

  Grant nods his head, but it’s a misleading gesture. “Yes, we finally settled on a course load that was agreeable to everyone and, fortunately, that was the last I heard of her and her father.”

  Brooke frowns.

  “But,” Grant continues, smiling. “Since you called ahead and you are such a delightful lady.” He holds up Kristen’s file. “I pulled her records.”

  Brooke leans forward, giving him a sultry smile. “You are too kind, Mr. Grant.”

  “Don’t get too excited,” he warns. “Kristen flunked out of all of her classes due to absenteeism. She showed up for the first month of classes and after that...” he shrugs. “She was just gone.”

  “Gone?”

  He closes the folder. “I’m afraid I can’t really be any more helpful than that.”

  “Well, that’s a little depressing,” Brooke mutters. “She just stopped showing up? Nobody asked why?”

  “This is college, Ms. Graves,” Grant says. “Once we get your money, we don’t really care whether or not you actually show up to class. Hundreds of students drop out every year for a variety of reasons. With Kristen, who knows what it could have been. Maybe she decided the college life wasn’t for her? Or maybe she just decided she wanted more of a say in her education? In the end it was her father that picked her college and her course load. I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Graves, it didn’t really seem like she and her father had the healthiest of relationships.”

  Brooke sighs.

  “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” Grant says.

  “It’s not your fault,” Brooke says, getting to her feet. “At every turn I just run into another dead end. You’d think I’d just stop turning.”

  “You said she’s gone missing?” Grant asks.

  “Yeah, shortly after she enrolled here, actually,” Brooke says. “You don’t happen to know if she was paying for any kind of on-campus housing?”

  Grant shakes his head. “No, but have you checked with her boyfriend?”

  Brooke pauses. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ll forgive me. It has been five years,” Grant says. “So the details are fuzzy. But I do recall her talking about a boyfriend. I can’t remember her mentioning his name, but it did seem to be a point of contention between her and her father.”

  “This is the first I’m hearing of a boyfriend,” Brooke says.

  Grant shrugs. “It could be nothing. Like I said, I don’t remember her mentioning the man’s name. But I do recall th
at he was, maybe, a doctor?”

  twenty

  Avery makes a face. “A boyfriend?”

  “A doctor boyfriend,” Brooke clarifies from the other end of the phone. “Plus,” she adds, “according to head of admissions, she and Danny the Dead Guy hated each other’s guts.”

  “Yeah, well, I knew that already,” Avery rolls her eyes. “You would have, too, had you been paying attention.”

  “No, you’re not listening,” Brooke says. “The admissions guy here at Henderson described it like an ongoing war between Kristen and her dad over her education. Why would they be fighting?”

  “Now who’s not listening?” Avery rubs her face. “Daniel was in the process of getting remarried. Kristen hated the new wife. Obviously they were going to be fighting.”

  Brooke sighs on the other end of the phone. “You’re not getting it.”

  “I’m not getting it?”

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Brooke replies. “New rule, don’t send me on these errands if you’re not going to like what I find.”

  “You didn’t find anything,” Avery says.

  “Whatever,” Brooke replies. “Look, I’m gonna swing by the office and then hit Clark’s. I’m starving.”

  “You just ate,” Avery says.

  “I ate, like, an hour ago.”

  “Right,” Avery replies. “An hour ago. Most people don’t need to eat again so soon.”

  “I’m having a very stressful day,” Brooke says. “Between this text from Steven the bartender-”

  “Please don’t get started on that again,” Avery mutters.

  “-and doing all this work?” Brooke sighs. “It’s not good for me. I suppose I could go do some retail therapy....”

  “Oh, no,” Avery snaps. “You stay away from any retail stores.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “No,” Avery insists.

  “You’re not my mother,” Brooke says.

  “No, I’m your big sister,” Avery replies. “And I’m trying to make sure you don’t shop yourself into anymore debt.”