Cheat (Karma Inc. Book 1)

by Gillian Zane

  I wasn’t tired. Physically, at least. When you’re dead and working for Afterlife, you don’t get tired. You don’t sleep. You don’t feel the cold, or the hot. You don’t get hungry. It’s like being stuck in the in-between. In-between everything. We didn’t even necessarily have to eat, but old habits die hard. And I have to admit, my refrigerator was stuffed full of ice cream, honey ham, and cookie dough. Luckily, we could alter our appearance too. No ass expansion after hoovering the pint of brownie chocolate explosion.

  When I walked into my apartment, I noticed the view was set to Vegas. Another city I hadn’t had the chance to visit. I hadn’t done that. Brandon must have changed my view. It was the middle of the night in Vegas, almost early morning. I could see a slight brightening peeking out from behind the mountains in the distance. The sun hadn’t quite crested yet, just a slight lightening of the sky. The strip was in all its glory, it was full on party time there. I watched as revelers scurried back and forth over bridges that spanned the streets, signs flashed, and fountains burst into the sky.

  I stood there at my window and watched. It was who I was now. An observer. I couldn’t take part, I was there to do my job. My time of participating was over.

  When I turned around, I noticed a card on my table. I picked it up and remembered what Brandon had told me. He was letting me dig into my life. I could find out what happened to me, I just couldn’t do it myself.

  Drake Greco

  Finder

  Finder. What an interesting job description. I wonder what he generally found.

  Chapter 9

  Find Me

  “You’re looking for your friend?”

  “Yes, didn’t I say that?”

  Drake Greco had me nervous. He was not what I expected. I had expected some stereotypical gumshoe sort sitting in an office and smoking a cigar. What I got was so far removed from that, I felt like an idiot for my assumptions. My idea of a private investigator would have been fit, but with a slight paunch. He would have thick hair slicked back and his suit would be cheap. He would be helpful, for the right price. He would reassure me that he could do the job with ease and send me on my way with maybe a few subtle sexual innuendos.

  Drake Greco was none of these things. He was shadow come to life. He was all dark shapes and sharp lines. He made my palms sweat. His suit was impeccably tailored and the opposite of cheap. The cut and fabric was dark, like him. I could feel my heart pumping in my chest, the whir whir whir of the blood pumping overpowering everything else, when I looked at him. The red power tie he wore was the only color to offset his starkness. It screamed power and danger. I didn’t know if he scared me or excited me. I was too nervous to figure it out.

  He was a big man. When he stood from his chair to shake my hand as I was shown in by his secretary, he towered over me, even though I was a tall girl in this form. He also held himself with a strange poise; it was almost gentle, as if each one of his movements was carefully controlled. When he sat back as gently as he had stood, he placed his hands on the desk and waited…

  I didn’t know what he wanted. I couldn’t read him. He was closed off from me. I couldn’t even sense his energy. Nothing registered. He was neither positive nor negative. A battery gone dead.

  “I’m repeating your statements to make sure we both understand each other, Ms. Hail,” he responded.

  “Sorry, Mr. Greco.” I kept up the formal routine for his benefit. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

  He was a handsome man, if you liked apex predators. I had no love for predators, but I could appreciate their dangerous beauty. His dark, almost black, eyes bored into me as if he knew all my secrets from just a glance. His chiseled chin jutted out, waiting for me to incriminate myself.

  “Noted. Now, as you were saying,” he urged me on, sitting back in his chair. His jacket fell aside to reveal the expanse of his chest. I breathed in a quick gasp. You could make out the strength underneath the thin material. There was no soft paunch there.

  Who was this man? I kept repeating in my head, be careful.

  “As I was saying, I’m looking for my friend. I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I don’t want to get in touch with the family, because they don’t like me and I’m afraid something happened to her.”

  “Why don’t they like you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I want to know what I’m getting into here.”

  “They thought I was a bad influence,” I made up on the fly.

  “When I find this person, do you want me to make contact?”

  “Uh, no.” I knew there was no one to get in touch with, but I couldn’t let on the truth. “Just let me know where she is and I’ll make contact,” I covered.

  “This sounds like a standard people finder mission. You could probably do this on Facebook. Why are you coming to me?”

  “I don’t know how to use the face book. You were recommended.” I purposefully dumbed down my statement and his lips pursed in a tight grimace as if he knew I was lying.

  “Who recommended me?” He sat forward again. He was trying to be imposing, he was suspicious of me. Brandon had mentioned he was a supernatural. What kind? What was he? Was he dangerous? Brandon wouldn’t have sent me to someone who was dangerous. Would he? Did he even know?

  “My friend Brandon.”

  “I don’t know a Brandon.” I just shrugged in response. He leaned even close to me, crowding his desk, his hands planted as he stared at me as if he could figure out the truth by glaring at me. He knew I was lying. It was obvious in the way he was treating me.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Hail?”

  “N-nothing,” I stuttered, trying to regain my composure, but it was impossible. My whole body was shaking.

  “Bullshit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. All kinds of shit shifted around and bulged. I tried not to stare, so I shifted uncomfortably in my chair like a kid in the principal’s office. He made me uncomfortably aware of my body. Of my fake body.

  “Look, you don’t know me, I get that. You don’t trust me, but I’m not the bad guy here. I have a feeling something bad happened to her and no one gives a shit, that’s all. I want to find out what happened. Even if when I find out it’s not what I want,” I stuttered out.

  “Fine,” he shifted forward. “I’ll look for her. Tell me everything you know about her.”

  I sighed in relief and told him everything I could remember. It was almost pitiful what I was able to remember, as if I was some long lost friend. I remembered so little about my living life, and this afterlife wasn’t exactly a full existence. It was as if I was only pieces of a whole. Inadequate. That was what you could call my existence.

  “Her name is Cassandra Mercier.” I gave him the address I remembered. I didn’t know if that was the last place I lived, or where I grew up. I think I had been living in an apartment and the address I knew didn’t have an apartment number.

  “What did she do for a living, how old, know any of her friends or family, where they live?” he prompted.

  “She was a police officer.” It popped out of my mouth. I was a cop? I was too young to be a cop. But, it fit. It felt right.

  “An officer?” He looked interested for the first time.

  “Yeah, a rookie, no boyfriend that I know of, a few friends, she liked to dance. She taught a hip-hop fitness class, but I don’t know the name of the place she taught at.” My brain hurt from trying to recall all of these memories.

  “That’s a good place to start. You wouldn’t happen to know her social security number?”

  I didn’t. Four two four something or other. I shook my head.

  “It’ll be a two thousand dollar retainer to take the case, ten percent to start.”

  I had exactly two hundred dollars in tips in my pocket. I pulled it out and placed it on his desk. A stack of wrinkled twenties and tens. I didn’t believe in coincidences.

  He didn’t touch the cash, or count it. He nodded and stood.

&nbs
p; “Thank you, Ms. Hail. I’ll let you know when I find something.” He stood and walked around the desk. He placed a hand lightly on my elbow to lead me out. My skin tingled where he touched. When I made no indication I was leaving, his entire palm wrapped around my arm. I was glued to the spot because of that one touch. I was a gazelle frozen because I knew the lion was about to pounce. His skin was hot to the touch and I flinched, pulling my arm away and breaking out of my trance.

  He stepped closer to me and looked sternly down at me. My breath hitched in my throat. I wanted to run, but I also had the uncanny urge to run my hands along his chest. I wanted to find out exactly how hard the muscles under that thin shirt were, even though my brain was screaming danger, danger, danger.

  “I have to warn you, Ms. Hail. If your intentions are not above-board, if you have malicious intent in locating this young lady, I will find out. I am not a man to be trifled with, or used for evil deeds.”

  “No trifling, no evil deeds,” I squeaked. I would have normally giggled over the silly words, but his stare demanded obedience from me. Drake Greco was definitely not a man to be trifled with.

  “I know you’re withholding something from me.” His big body crowded me. He leaned in, the smell of him invaded my senses. He didn’t wear cologne. I smelled the subtle smoky aroma of cedar with an underlying smell of silky fruit, almost like strawberries, but not quite. I couldn’t nail down the smell but I had smelled it before. All I knew was it wasn't an added aroma. It was all him. Suddenly the ultra-modern office was way too small for the two of us.

  “I plan on finding out what that is,” he warned. His lips only inches from my face.

  “A girl has to have her secrets,” I whispered, trying not to make eye contact but it was impossible. My head shot up and we locked gazes. Now I knew what eyes looked like when they smoldered. They looked scary as hell.

  “I don’t like secrets, Ms. Hail,” he said and reached behind me, crowding me even more as he opened the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter 10

  Pathological Liar Wanted

  “That guy was scary as shit, why did you send me to him?” I whined to Brandon. We were sitting in his office. This time I was dressed and ready for my shift tonight. He was dressed in his usual jeans and a tee along with comfy flip flops. His t-shirt read, “It's Called Karma and it’s Pronounced Ha-Ha Fuck You."

  “I’ve never met the guy, my boss recommended him.” He shrugged as if any actions from that point on were someone else’s issue. Typical middle management, even in the afterlife.

  “He knows I’m lying,” I huffed.

  “Lie better,” he retorted.

  “Easy for you to say. This shit doesn’t come naturally.”

  “I think you would be surprised, Cassie. They don’t post souls to this position unless they are qualified. And one of those qualifications is usually a knack for bending the truth.”

  “I was a pathological liar or something, is that how I built up all the bad energy? I was a cop, I found out that much. Was I a dirty cop? Is that what happened? What if I find out some crazy shit, Brandon? I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

  “I don’t know anything about your living life. And you were the one that wanted to find out.”

  “You’re no help.” I crossed my arms and tried to glare daggers at him, like Drake had done to me earlier. I failed miserably.

  “I’m not here to help you, Cassie. I’m here to make sure you do your job and fulfill the terms of your contract.” He looked away from me as if he knew what effect his words had on me. I had begun to think of Brandon as my friend, not my boss. I guess I was wrong.

  “Yeah, my contract.” I kicked at the edge of the chair miserably and tried not to cry. I felt my eyes burn, dying to leak and make me look like a fool.

  He referenced that million page document that I had signed a thousand times when I had agreed to be a Karma Incorporated operative. Indentured servitude they should call it. I was stuck in this position until some unnamed entity deemed I had learned my lesson. Death sucks.

  “He wants two thousand. I tried to wish for cash but nothing happened.” I tried another tactic.

  “You can only conjure up something if it’s required for a job. I told you this. Don’t get flagged, Cassie. If it’s for personal gain, you’re shit out of luck and could find yourself demoted if you continue to try,” he shrugged. “Good thing you’re earning tips, right?”

  “What are the perks of being a Karma Incorporated operative again?” I said petulantly. I wasn't having fun anymore.

  “You’re not in Limbo.”

  “Fuck.”

  Chapter 11

  The Perks of Being a Karma Incorporated Operative

  The perks of being a Karma Incorporated operative became evident to me as I was standing in line at the coffee shop. I was going to see if my credit card worked for fuel to get me through my bartending shift.

  A girl cut in front of me in line. No excuse me, the line turned to the side, to allow people to walk in and out of the door. The girl didn’t see the curve of people to the right of the counter. She just walked up in front of me and stood there, ignoring me and the five people behind me as we grumbled.

  She knew we were there. The negative energy that swirled around her made that obvious. She cut the line because her bladder was full and she was in a rush. I also knew that this would be her fifth time late for work this month because she was up late flirting with a guy online that lived in England while her husband slept. I don’t know how I knew this, I just did.

  I stared daggers into the back of her head, imagining that she couldn’t hold it anymore. That pressure was too much, and she had to pee so badly. The barista ran the faucet and the sound of the water was overwhelming. Her bladder gave way and she pissed herself. She was wearing a skirt so it was like a downpour. She left a puddle on the floor, and didn’t get her coffee as she ran out of the cafe. A few others in line decided they didn’t want coffee anymore either. Not worth braving the ocean of piss.

  It left the line wide open for me.

  I sidestepped the puddle of urine and happily ordered my super grande size frozen chocolate coffee drink. I chose to ignore the smell, focusing on yummy coffee instead. My credit card worked and I gave the barista an extra big tip. I knew she would probably have to clean up the puddle. Poor girl. She looked about to cry. Everyone in the cafe was sort of dazed and confused after the dramatics, but at least the barista got my drink right. She even added extra whip. Yum. She earned the tip.

  I walked the rest of the way to work in a good mood. My earlier interactions with Drake and Brandon were far from my mind. I was looking forward to another night at the bar. It sounded weird, but I liked the interaction and I even liked working with Bishop, even though he was a thieving shit. At least he had a good personality and he had a repertoire of good jokes that he laid on me throughout the night. I loved a good joke.

  The bar was next door to a drug store that was always teaming with traffic. I cut across the parking lot and rolled my eyes as a pickup with ridiculously huge tires came tearing through the lot, almost taking out an elderly gentleman, and screeched into a spot. A parking spot that another person was about to turn into. It would have been okay, it was technically two spots, but the douchebag didn’t straighten out. He left the truck shifted to the left and taking up both spots. Two teens jumped out of the truck, laughing and carrying on. The driver even had the audacity to look over at me and call out something unintelligible, but the sexual innuendo was clear when he grabbed his dick through his jeans. I couldn’t have been happier to see the negative energy swirling around him like a swarm of mosquitos.

  I waited for him to go into the store before I popped all four of his tires with just a thought. Nails in the sidewall. Ouch. Those oversized tires were expensive too. What were the chances that all four tires got nails in them? Karma’s a bitch. Literally.

  I was on a roll today.

  Chapter 12

&n
bsp; The Whole Ten

  My shift was easy tonight. The bar was crowded but I had gotten the hang of where everything was. I still stumbled when I got fancy drink orders, but I was enjoying myself.

  I watched as Bishop palmed a few more of his tips, and even failed to go to the register a few times. Every time the customer told him to keep the change, he kept the entire thing. Into his pocket it went. A six dollar beer with a four dollar tip was a nice push, but with Bishop pocketing the whole ten, it was even better for him.

  The owner must not log his stock. The drink prices were simple- domestic beers were priced at four dollars, imports at six, well drinks at five and premium liquors at seven. There was a limited amount of wine, only house, all priced at four a glass. You could do the math in your head easily if you were quick on your feet. The cash register was a cheap thing you could pick up at an office supply store, not the new touch screens that most of the bars were using. You rang up the order and were done with it. Monitoring the stock must not be a priority.

  It was ripe for theft and Bishop was taking full advantage of it. He didn’t have anyone flirting with him, or jockeying for his attention so he kept wandering to my side of the bar and making flirtatious comments along with the jokes. I had met his pregnant girlfriend the previous night and he thought I would be receptive to his attentions? I didn’t get men like him.

  I had a job to do though, so I played along. And I continued to play along. Not getting any closer to figuring out how I can dish out a bit of karma to him, without pushing him over the edge.

  I noticed there were cameras installed in the corner of the bar and on the dance floor.

  “Do those work?” I asked Bishop and he shook his head.

  “Something happened,” he said with a smirk. “An electrical short, or something like that.” His smirk told me he had been behind the equipment failure.