One Stiletto in the Grave

by Jason Krumbine

  “You’ll let me know when you’ve got an actual question,” Avery says.

  “I’ve already asked you one,” she says. “Why did my dead husband call me from your office?”

  She looks at Brooke, sensing a weak link. Brooke throws her hands up.

  “Don’t look at me,” she says. “I didn’t want any part of this.”

  “You make it sound like we’re blackmailing the woman,” Avery says, chastising her sister.

  Mrs. Jones raises an eyebrow. “Are you? Blackmailing me?”

  “What would we have to blackmail you with?” Avery asks.

  Jones' shrugs. “What has my dead husband told you?”

  Brooke takes this one. “Well, he was really fond of telling us about the time he walked in on you banging the pool boy and how the sight of it killed him.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Please. Did he mention that harpy of a woman he was seeing on the side?”

  Avery pauses a moment. “Would that be Sue?”

  Mrs. Jones scoffs at her. “Is that her name? Honestly, I never bothered to learn it. All I knew is that he was getting plenty on the side.”

  “Okay, well, I’m confused,” Brooke says.

  “So am I,” Avery says. “Daniel has a slightly different interpretation of his relationship with Sue.”

  “Of course he does,” she says. “He’s a man and a terrible one at that,” she takes a moment to fiddle with her hair. “All I really want to know is this: why is my deceased husband making any calls. The man should be enjoying cocktails in Hell by now.”

  Avery takes a deep breath. “Your husband’s concerned about the distribution of his wealth.”

  She stares at her for a minute. “I beg your pardon?”

  “He doesn’t want you to get his money,” Brooke says more plainly.

  Mrs. Jones looks back and forth between the sisters. “This is about that stupid daughter of his, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Avery confirms.

  She starts searching her purse. “Well, I don’t know what he’s paying you.” She stops and looks at Avery. “Actually, how is he paying you?”

  “He’s not,” Brooke says, answering for her sister with a bitter tone.

  “It’s called doing the right thing,” Avery explains. “We like to help bring peace to the recently departed.”

  Brooke points at Avery. “She likes it. I like money and not going hungry.”

  Jones ignores her and focuses on Avery. “The right thing?”

  “That’s what our father taught us.”

  “Was your father a gullible fool, too?” she asks.

  “Tip,” Brooke says, as a shadow falls across her face, “don’t make fun of our Dad. Some of us still have Unresolved Daddy Issues.”

  Jones' closes her purse. “There is no ‘right thing’ in this situation,” she says. “And if there was, you’re certainly not doing it.”

  “Daniel said you wouldn’t be fond of this solution,” Avery says.

  “Well, he’s right,” Mrs. Jones continues. “That brat of a daughter walked out of his life without so much as a glance back. Why should she be rewarded for that?”

  “If it helps,” Avery says. “We don’t really care about the money. We just want Daniel to be able to say good-bye to his daughter.”

  She stares blankly at her for a second and then bursts into laughter.

  Avery and Brooke look at each other uncomfortably. The laughter goes on for a full minute. The other customers are starting to look suspiciously towards their table.

  Finally Mrs. Jones calms down and wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was just too rich.”

  Avery glances at the time on her phone.

  “Daniel and Kristen said their good-byes a long time ago,” she says. “It was shortly after they cursed each other out for a solid hour.”

  “He seems pretty distraught over their separation,” Avery says.

  She shrugs. “Maybe death does something to you.”

  “Who would have thought it’d be such a life changing experience?” Brooke wonders sarcastically.

  Mrs. Jones glares at her.

  “Look, Mrs. Jones,” Avery says. “I’m gonna cut to the chase here. We just need to know what happened to Kristen.”

  “And why would I know the answer to that, much less help you?”

  “Because we’re already pretty sure we know how her story ended,” Avery says. “We just need some of the finer details. Either way, I don’t think it’s going to affect your inheritance.”

  She thinks it over for a moment.

  Breaking the cigarette in two she asks, “What is it you want to know?”

  “Did Kristen have a boyfriend?”

  Mrs. Jones nods. “Yes. It was something she and Daniel fought over regularly. He was an older man and Daniel didn’t think it was appropriate.”

  “And do you remember his name?” Avery asks.

  “Of course I do,” she says. “He’s my doctor.”

  “He’s your doctor?” Avery repeats.

  She nods her head. “Before I give you this, I want some assurances. I don’t want Daniel calling me anymore.”

  “Not going to be a problem after tonight,” Avery says.

  “And you’re sure Kristen won’t be coming back for her inheritance?” she asks.

  “There’s usually only one reason why someone would drop off the face of the planet as completely as she did,” Avery says.

  “Well, then.” She gathers her items. “Kristen was dating my doctor, Kevin Soong.”

  twenty-three

  Daniel Jones is sitting on the edge of the bed, his head bowed. Avery stands over him and Brooke’s by the door.

  “Daniel, why did you send us to Dr. Soong’s office?” Avery asks. Her voice is flat and hard. She doesn’t like when people lie to her.

  “I don’t know,” Daniel whispers while looking down at his feet.

  “And I think you’re lying,” Avery says.

  Brooke speaks up. “You know as well as I do he might not be.”

  Avery looks back at her sister. “You want to get in the middle of this?”

  “I want to get pain and treat myself to a nice steak dinner,” Brooke says.

  Avery turns back to the dead guy. “Daniel.”

  He looks up at Avery. Daniel’s face seems extra pale. His eyes are haunted.

  “I,” Daniel hesitates, dragging out the word. He looks past Avery at Brooke and then his gaze drifts around the room, searching for answers. “I don’t remember,” he whispers.

  Brooke walks up to her sister and says quietly, “Traumatic deaths,” she starts.

  “Can leave the soul in an amnesic state,” Avery finishes. “I know.”

  “Okay,” Brooke backs away.

  “I just think it’s convenient that all of a sudden he can’t remember anything,” Avery folds her arms.

  “It’s not that convenient,” Brooke mutters.

  Avery sighs, running a hand through her hair. She follows Brooke back to the doorway. “Okay. What do we know?”

  “That, like everyone else, the Jones’ were a messed up family,” Brooke says, casting a sideways glance back at Daniel. He’s got his head in his hands.

  “Come on,” Avery prompts.

  “Come on what?” Brooke asks, looking at her sister. “What do you want to do? Go back to Soong and ask why he was lying? Who cares? You said it yourself when we were talking to the widow, we know what happened to Kristen Jones. At some point in the last five years she died and nobody noticed.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Avery says, but even she doesn’t believe it.

  “Damnit, Avery, pick a side and stick to it,” Brooke snaps. “Don’t we have enough to worry about?” She points to Daniel. “Obviously the guy’s not the saint you want to believe he is. Maybe his daughter had a real good reason for disappearing. Who knows? Who cares?” Brooke pulls out the handcuffs with Daniel’s name etched on them. “Let’s ju
st take him to the Waiting Room and let them sort it out in the afterlife.”

  Avery looks at the handcuffs but doesn’t say anything.

  “You said all you wanted to do was reunite this guy with his daughter,” Brooke says. “Well, if she’s dead, this is the only way they’re going to get reunited.”

  Avery closes her eyes and sighs. “Fine,” she takes the cuffs.

  The Waiting Room is empty, save for the Graves sisters and Daniel Jones. There are two doors in the Waiting Room. The brown door is the entrance and exit for people like the Graves sisters. The Red Door is for deceased souls like Daniel Jones. Behind that door is the afterlife.

  The receptionist’s window is closed.

  The sisters sit on either side of Daniel Jones. He has a distant, dazed look in his eyes. His hands are securely bound by the handcuffs with his name etched on them.

  Avery sits there, trying not to feel like she did a half-assed job.

  “Hey,” Brooke says, she’s scrolling through her text messages on her phone, “how do you spell ‘magic’? Is that with a ‘J’ or a ‘G’?”

  Avery rubs her eyes. “I am seriously not doing this with you right now.”

  “What? It’s a simple question,” Brooke pushes a few buttons on her phone. “I don’t have autocorrect on this thing.”

  “How can you do that?” Avery asks her.

  Brooke looks up from her phone. “What? Send a text message? You can do it, too. All phones can do it these days.”

  Avery points at Daniel. “This is a real situation here.”

  “Not for me,” Brooke says. “I don’t emotionally invest myself into our bounties.”

  “And how do you do that?” Avery asks her.

  Brooke shrugs. “Because I have a life.”

  Avery snorts. “Okay, it’s hardly a life and that’s not a real reason.”

  “It’s as real as you’re gonna get,” Brooke says. She scratches her nose. “Maybe it’s because Dad didn’t take me out with him on jobs. I don’t know. Why do you think I’m always telling you not to bother with the Good Samaritan routine?”

  “Because you’re a cold hearted slut?” Avery suggests.

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Brooke says in a huff.

  “But kind of true,” Avery says.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not really appropriate if you want to have a heart-to-heart, you know what I’m saying?”

  “I don’t want a heart-to-heart,” Avery says. “I just want to know how you can be such a… asshole.”

  “How did we go from being emotionally uninvested to being an asshole?” Brooke asks.

  “Because they’re both essentially the same thing,” Avery says. “And you know it.”

  “Well,” Brooke says, after thinking about it for a moment, “you could be the asshole that’s always too invested. That’s definitely a type of asshole.”

  Avery rolls her eyes and ignores Brooke.

  A minute passes.

  Avery looks at her sister. “How do you not know how to spell ‘magic’?”

  “Um, I’m not a spelling nerd,” Brooke says.

  “And that means you don’t know how to spell ‘magic’?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “What’s the reference?”

  Brooke smiles. “I’m suggesting to Steven the bartender that he might want to use some stick magic on me later.”

  Avery makes a face. “That’s disgusting.”

  “I know,” Brooke replies. “That’s why I’m saying it.”

  “Aren’t you afraid that you’re leading him on?”

  “Leading him on?” Brooke echoes.

  “I’m sorry, did you forget your little meltdown earlier where you revealed your secret power to make men fall in love with you?” Avery asks her.

  “I don’t make men fall in love with me,” Brooke says. “They just do. I don’t have any control over the process.”

  “Either way, you’re leading him on.”

  “Maybe so, but if I don’t, someone else will,” Brooke says. “So it might as well be me.”

  Avery waits a second before speaking again. “And what about Stanley?”

  “What about him?”

  “Are you going to play dumb?”

  “Usually I’m not playing,” Brooke replies.

  “I know you were with him last night,” Avery finally says.

  Brooke doesn’t say anything.

  “Well?” Avery pushes.

  “Well what?”

  “Are you going to deny it?”

  Brooke frowns. “Look, you’re off in crazy sister land. I’m going to let you hang out there for a while and when you come back, we’ll talk.”

  “That’s not a denial.”

  “I don’t need to deny something that didn’t happen.”

  “Actually, yes you do,” Avery says. “That’s what a denial is.”

  “Fine.” Brooke looks her sister in the eye. “I did not see Stanley last night.”

  Avery narrows her gaze. “You’re lying.”

  Brooke throws up her hands. “See! Why should I bother denying it if you’re just going to call me a liar?”

  “You were with that sleazebag,” Avery says. “I know it. You know it. So let’s just stop beating around the bush.”

  “Do you have proof?” Brooke asks her. “Do you have pictures? Is someone telling you that me and Stanley were together last night? Where is this coming from?”

  “My sister sense,” Avery says simply.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I heard you, but I sure as hell don’t understand you,” Brooke says. “Your sister sense?”

  “Am I wrong?” Avery asks her.

  “Of course you’re wrong!” Brooke snaps. “I haven’t seen Stanley in weeks.”

  “Okay, well, that’s another lie,” Avery replies.

  “Fine. I saw Stanley last night. I helped him out with a thing he had and then I had sex with him in a back alley,” Brooke snaps. “Is that what you want to hear?”

  Avery’s silent for a moment. “You did what?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Brooke says, grinding her teeth. “I have not seen Stanley is weeks. Get that through your head.”

  Avery settles back in her chair. “You’re lying. You don’t want to tell me what happened, fine. That’s okay. You want to tell me about Steven the bartender instead? Go ahead. I’m all ears. Tell me all about how you make men fall in love with you. Don’t tell me what’s really important in your life. No, hey, that’s fine. I’m just your sister.”

  “Good. I’m glad we got that all straightened out,” Brooke agrees, turning back to her phone.

  Avery sighs. “It’s with a ‘G’.”

  “What?”

  “Magic,” Avery says. “It’s spelled m-a-g-i-c.”

  “Aw, crap,” Brooke mutters.

  “What?”

  “I spelled it with a ‘K’, not a ‘C.’”

  Avery shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

  The Red Door clicks and that’s their cue.

  Brooke and Avery get to their feet, each grabbing one of Daniel’s arms, and drag him over to the Red Door.

  It’s Avery’s turn to open it. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. Quickly, she grabs the handle and yanks the door open.

  Both sisters look away. It’s not healthy to look through the Red Door if you’re not a dead soul. There’s an absence of nothingness that pours out and envelops the Waiting Room. Avery’s the closest to the door and she feels disconnected, as though her limbs are floating in the air beside her.

  They toss Daniel through the open door and Brooke kicks it closed.

  The Waiting Room returns to normal.

  Avery takes a deep breath. Her mouth’s dry now.

  “I hate that,” she says.

  “Totally the worse part of the job,” Brooke agrees.

  The receptionist’s window opens and it’s time to collect their money.r />
  Outside, they’re at the pink sedan. Ten minutes passed in the Waiting Room. Out in the real world it was an hour and a half.

  The sky is filling with dark clouds and thunder rumbles in the distance.

  The wind kicks up as Brooke looks over her sister’s shoulder at the check.

  “Nice,” she says. “I’m eating steak tonight! And maybe every night for the rest of the week.”

  Avery pockets the check. “You know half of this is mine.”

  “And with my half I can still get myself a nice steak and pay off my tab at Clark’s for the next three days,” Brooke follows her sister into the car.

  “It lasts longer if you don’t eat out all the time,” Avery says.

  “If I don’t eat out, I don’t eat at all,” Brooke says. “You’ve tasted my cooking. Do you know anyone who can make a grilled cheese sandwich that tastes like it was cooked in a sewer?”

  “Your cooking skills are truly an abomination,” Avery agrees.

  Besides,” Brooke pulls her hair back into a ponytail, “after we pick up the dead couple, we’ll be rolling in twice that.” She inhales deeply through her nose. “Can you smell that? It’s the smell of fine eating. The good life. It’s the life I was born for.”

  “Maybe you should look into dating older rich men,” Avery suggests. “Instead of, you know, bartenders and sleazebags?”

  Brooke sighs. “Don’t think I haven’t given it some serious thought.”

  twenty-four

  Thunder roars and lightning rakes across the sky.

  Avery pulls into the parking lot as a fat drop of rain hits the window. It slowly streaks down, but it’s a loner raindrop.

  Brooke peeks out the window. “This looks nasty.”

  “No kidding,” Avery replies. “You want to try to wait it out?”

  Brooke shakes her head. “No way. When this storm hits it’s going to hit hard and I do not want to be stuck in a car with you for the duration. I want to be curled up in bed with my favorite bartender. Let’s go.”