Grim Offerings (Aisling Grimlock Book 2)

by Amanda M. Lee

  Grim Offerings

  An Aisling Grimlock Mystery

  Book Two

  By Amanda M. Lee

  Text copyright © 2015 Amanda M. Lee

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Author’s Note

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  One

  “You’re dead.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I’m not. I really wish you’d stop saying that.” Will Graham was falling apart. There was no other way to describe him. His brown hair stood on end, his face was devoid of color, just like the body on the bed, which he was steadfastly ignoring. He’d spent the past twenty minutes explaining – in excruciating detail, mind you – why it was impossible for him to be dead.

  My name is Aisling Grimlock, and I’m a grim reaper. Because I am called out only on jobs in which the client is in fact deceased, I was running out of patience. “You’re dead.”

  “You’re handling this really well,” my twin brother Aidan said, scanning Graham’s packed shelves curiously. “I think this guy is a hoarder.”

  “I’m not a hoarder,” Graham said, swatting Aidan’s hand impatiently. Because only his soul remained, his efforts were ineffective and his ethereal fingers harmlessly passed through Aidan’s flesh.

  “Dude, you have so much stuff in here I’m surprised you can even find your way to the bathroom,” Aidan said, his violet eyes flashing. The eyes, along with our shared black hair, were family traits. My three older brothers all boasted the same attributes, although I had taken to adding white highlights to my hair as a means to annoy my father – and stand out in a sea of chiseled cheekbones and strong features. “Who needs this much stuff?”

  “I like to read,” Graham huffed.

  “No one could ever read all of this,” Aidan said, removing one of the books to study the title. “I’ve never even heard of this. It looks like another language.”

  “It’s Greek, you moron,” Graham snapped. “Do you even know what you’re looking at? Put it back. You’re getting your grubby fingerprints all over the cover. That’s a first edition. It’s worth a lot of money.”

  “You’re not going to get to spend it, so why do you care?” Aidan asked.

  “I want you both out of my house right now,” Graham announced. “You’re trespassing.”

  “What do you think that says?” Aidan asked, shifting the book so I could get a better look.

  I shrugged. “What does it matter? There aren’t any pictures in there, so you’re not going to be interested.”

  Aidan stuck his tongue out. “I read things.”

  “What’s the last thing you read?”

  “I … I read the newspaper this morning.”

  “The comics don’t count,” I argued. “I read the news section. Jerry reads the editorial page – and if I have to hear one more thing about the proposed road tax I’m going to smack him upside the head, by the way – and you read the comics.”

  “They have words,” Aidan sneered.

  “With drawings.”

  “You bug me.”

  Since Aidan had started dating my roommate Jerry, our relationship had gone from annoyed and close to annoyed and agitated. We were spending far too much time together thanks to his overnight visits to my Royal Oak townhouse. When we added work to the mix, we were both ready to blow. “You bug me.”

  “You bug me more.”

  “That’s impossible,” I shot back. “You’re the king of annoying.”

  “And you’re the queen of bitchy.”

  “Jerry is the queen of bitchy.”

  Aidan considered the statement. “Fine. You’ve got me there. You’re still awful to be around these days. I can barely stand you. Do you have PMS?”

  “I can’t believe you just asked me that!” None of my brothers respect personal boundaries, but since Aidan and I shared time crowded together in my mother’s womb – he still maintains I kicked him at every prenatal opportunity – he’s especially obnoxious when it comes to invading my life.

  “You’re just so … crabby,” he said.

  “I’m not crabby.”

  “No, you’re bitchy,” Aidan said. “I thought crabby sounded nicer.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose to ward off the headache beginning to build. “Can we get this over with?”

  “You’re the one who insists on talking to them before collecting them,” Aidan pointed out. “If you’d just collect them before they opened their mouths, our lives would be so much easier.”

  Grim reaping is the family business, one I’d fought falling into until a few months ago. A bad economy forced me out of my job, and since Jerry insisted I still had to pay my half of the townhouse mortgage, I had been forced to go to work for my father. I was still a little bitter.

  It’s not as though I’m unaware of how this is supposed to go. I just feel that transitioning souls to the hereafter should be a comforting experience. Aidan doesn’t feel the same way, and my other brothers make fun of me for being such a “girl” when it comes to ferrying. I still like to give clients the option of asking questions before sucking them into a scepter and transporting them to their final resting places.

  Here are the basics: Whatever you believe in, that’s where you go. There are a lot of variations – and how you live your life does impact how things are going to shake out. Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory are all real. If you’re a douche, you’re going to one of the bad ones. That’s all there is to it.

  “Where is he going, by the way?” Aidan asked, still shuffling through Graham’s belongings. “He’s got a lot of religious books here. He’s obviously interested in the subject.”

  “Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here, please?” Graham asked, wringing his hands. “I am a person. This is my house. I want you both to leave right now.”

  “We can’t leave,” Aidan said. “You’re on our list.”

  “What list?”

  “Where is he going?” Aidan pressed. “If it’s a good place, maybe he won’t be so nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Graham said, shifting decisively. “In fact, I’m going to call the police right now.” He strode across the room, stopping next to the desk in the corner. The phone was sitting right there, and yet he didn’t reach for it.

  I scanned his file more closely. Aidan must have read the look on my face. “Where is he going?”

  “The Void.”

  Aidan smirked. “Ah, an atheist. Awesome.”

  “What’s the Void?” Graham asked, his shoulders twitching.

  “It’s party central, dude,” Aidan said. “Don’t worry. They’ve got great music, and the food is to die for … no pun intended.”<
br />
  I shot Aidan a look. True atheists were rare. Agnostics were far more likely, and they often had a choice of where they wanted to go. This was the first time since joining the Grimlock reaping team that I’d come across an atheist. It was kind of exciting. What? Everything new is exciting at one point or another. “I’ve heard the Void is great, too,” I offered. I was trying to be helpful. “They say it’s a party atmosphere.”

  “I don’t like to party,” Graham said, hopping from one foot to the other. “I like to be left alone. I like to read, and I like to play games on my computer. That’s what I like.”

  “Don’t worry, they have Candy Crush in the Void,” Aidan said. “Speaking of food, though, can we get this show on the road? I’m starving.”

  “All you ever think about is food,” I grumbled.

  “I like to eat,” Aidan agreed. “There’s a great Middle Eastern place right around the corner. They’re supposed to have great hummus.”

  I did love Middle Eastern food. Still … . I shifted, focusing on Graham again. “Listen, I know this is upsetting. Dying is a shock, even if you’re the one who died.”

  “I am not dead!”

  Aidan had moved past mild amusement and landed on annoyance. He shuffled across the room, not stopping until he was standing at the end of the bed. “Dude, that’s you. Do you see that?” He moved to the side and lifted the covers so Graham could get a better look.

  Graham started rocking himself. “You’re playing a trick on me.”

  “Why would we do that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. There has to be a reason. I’m only fifty years old. Men my age don’t just die in their beds.” Graham was looking for reason in an unreasonable world.

  “Life sucks,” Aidan said, dropping the covers back over Graham’s body. “It really does. I feel for you, man. You had your books and you had your iPad and you had your tricked-out laptop. All of that is gone now, though. It’s time to hop on the stick. Or, in this case, it’s time to hop in the stick.” He removed the sterling-silver scepter from his pocket. “It’s almost lunchtime. I’m sorry. We need to get this moving. I have a date tonight, and I want to get this list completed.”

  He was so insensitive sometimes. “Aidan!”

  “What? I’m tired of being here,” he complained. “If you’d just sucked him up the second we walked in, this wouldn’t have become such a big issue. Now it’s just annoying.”

  “What is that thing?” Graham asked, pointing to the scepter worriedly. “Is he going to suck me up into that thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” I said, scorching Aidan with a harsh look. “Well, technically he is, but you won’t be in there very long.” I was trying to keep my voice even. Graham was teetering on the edge of total hysteria, and a tip the wrong way would make him a lost cause. We’d wasted this much time already, so I was hoping another five minutes would do the trick. What? I’m an optimist. Okay, that’s not true. I’m a total pessimist. I still don’t like being the bad guy. “We’re just the transport team.”

  “And where are you transporting me?”

  “To a hub,” I said. “We’ll then transfer your soul to your final resting place.”

  “Which is this … Void?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s an awful name, but it’s a really fun place. You can basically do whatever you want to do there.”

  “That sounds like chaos.”

  “That’s why it’s fun,” Aidan said, grinning. “Come on. There’s nothing left for you here. I’m sure you can get your hands on all of these books once you get settled.”

  Graham shifted his gaze between us. “Are you seriously telling me that everything is true?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Heaven is real?”

  “There are a lot of different heavens,” I explained. “It depends on what you believe.”

  “Is Hell real?”

  Aidan nodded. “It’s only for those who have done really terrible things, though. You don’t qualify. Hoarding isn’t really terrible, even if it is … unsanitary,” he said, wiping dust from one of the shelves and rubbing it from his fingertips. “There are certain souls that can’t be rehabilitated.”

  Graham obviously liked to soak up knowledge, and that’s what he was doing now. “What happens to souls that can be rehabilitated?”

  “Depending on what they’ve done, they go to Purgatory,” I replied.

  “And that’s different from the Void?”

  “Very.”

  “This is a lot to take in,” Graham said. “I need time to think.”

  “You’re going to have plenty of time to think,” Aidan said, waving the scepter in Graham’s face. “Just jump in here.”

  Graham shook his head. “You should never make big decisions when you’re emotionally overwrought,” he said. “I’m emotionally overwrought right now. How about we make an appointment … I should have some time open next week … and we’ll talk about it then?”

  He looked so hopeful. Part of my heart went out to him. The other part was listening to the growling in my stomach. “We can’t do that.”

  “Well, I’m not going with you,” Graham said, placing his hands on his hips obstinately. “I’m not going to go. There’s nothing you can do to make me.”

  I exchanged a look with Aidan, resigned. “Just do it. Now that you’ve mentioned food, I can’t think about anything else.”

  “Not until you say it,” Aidan prodded.

  I sighed. “You were right.”

  “And?”

  “And I was wrong,” I grumbled.

  Aidan smiled triumphantly. “And don’t you forget it.” He lifted the scepter and pointed it at Graham. “Trust me. You’ll feel better when this is all over with. You’re going to a better place. No one hoards there.”

  “I am not a hoarder … you can’t … .” Graham didn’t get to finish his argument, because Aidan had already absorbed his essence.

  When he was done, Aidan tucked the scepter into his pocket and turned back to me with a bright smile on his face. “Let’s eat.”

  Two

  “This place is cute,” I said, settling in a small booth and fixing Aidan with a rueful smile as he sat across from me. “Have you eaten here before?”

  “I know what you’re doing,” Aidan said, grabbing a menu and opening it.

  “What am I doing?”

  “You’re trying to have light lunch conversation so I won’t point out that you’re making this job harder than it has to be.”

  Ugh. He knows me too well. “I am not.”

  “You’re also never going to admit it,” Aidan said. “It’s not in your nature.”

  “Hey, I admitted you were right at the house,” I argued. “In this particular case, you were right.”

  “And you were wrong.”

  “Oh, whatever,” I muttered, snatching the menu he was holding. “You just get off on being right.” Unfortunately, that was another family trait.

  “You’re the one who can never be wrong,” Aidan shot back. “Do you remember when we had family game night as kids?”

  I scowled.

  “Whenever you missed a question in Trivial Pursuit you had a fit and insisted the card was wrong.”

  “That’s a total lie.”

  “It is not.”

  “It is, too.”

  “It is not.”

  “See? You’re just trying to be right again,” I said. “You just can’t stand it when you’re wrong.”

  “I’m always right.”

  “You sound just like Dad.” I knew exactly how to get to him. Most siblings know what buttons to push. I was no exception. “You don’t just look like him, but you act like him, too.”

  Aidan frowned. “You take that back.”

  “No.”

  Aidan reached over and pinched my forearm. “Take it back.”

  “Ow.” I ripped my arm out of his grip. “That hurt.”

  “Oh, you’
re such a baby,” Aidan said, grabbing another menu. “If you would just admit that you’re wrong, this whole argument would be over.”

  “I already told you I was wrong,” I snapped. “You just want me to say it again so I can pump up your ego.”

  “Honey, I don’t need my ego pumped up by … you.”

  “You’re about to go to a dirty place,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “I told you when you started dating Jerry that I was okay with it as long as you didn’t give me the details. Don’t you dare start giving me the details now.”

  Jerry had been my best friend since elementary school. Even at such a young age, I’d known there was something different about him. He was much more interested in clothes and shoes than the rest of the boys, but he was also more sensitive and easy to talk with. When it came down to it, he’d never really given me a choice. He announced we were best friends, and we’d been inseparable ever since.

  Jerry came out when we were in middle school, confirming what everyone thought they already knew. He was never ambiguous, and he was never worried about what other people thought. His mother had joined every gay parenting group she could find, and she was proud of her son and the man he’d become. The decision to embrace who he was had been harder for Aidan.

  I’d always suspected Aidan was gay, but I never pushed him on it. When you have three older brothers all trying to “out-macho” one another, it’s hard to be the one who is different. Aidan was only a few minutes older, but he acted as though he had years of maturity to lord over me. Our brothers had always been protective of both of us, but I got the brunt of it.

  When Aidan finally came out, the whole family embraced him. My mother knew. I saw it on her face. She didn’t care, and she made sure that Aidan never felt like an outcast. It was harder for my father, but he sucked up any ill feelings he had about the announcement and hugged Aidan close.

  In the years since, Dad not only embraced having a gay son, he also did the one thing Aidan needed above all else: He treated him exactly as he did his other sons.

  I was a different story. There were specific rules when you were a girl. After my mother died while trying to collect a soul in a fire, my upbringing had been … unique.