by Judith Post
A young woman's face slowly took shape in the frantic static. She had blond hair that was chopped in a cute, spiky style and gray eyes that sparkled with intelligence. She stared around the room, trying to orient herself, and then focused on Loralei.
"Can I help you?" Loralei had worked with the dead long enough to know that those still stuck here had stayed for a reason.
The young girl blinked. "I'm nervous."
"That's all right." It would be awful to be stuck between two worlds, torn between going and staying. "There must be something that's holding you. Do you want to be free?"
The girl took a deep breath. "I'm the body the police found next to Mandy's. It will take them a while to identify me. I've been there a while. You know. Bodies are temporary. Mine's not in very good shape. But I saw Mandy when she came back. She told me that you helped her, so I thought maybe you could help me too. I'm the first girl Mark killed."
Mark? Loralei proceeded carefully. "You know who killed you? Because Mandy didn't. He was a complete stranger."
"I was his sister's roommate in college," the girl said. "The first person he killed."
"There are more?"
She looked sad. "Quite a few. He isn't very stable since Glory died."
"You might want to start at the beginning and catch me up."
"He doted on his little sister," the girl explained. "Their mom was a single parent, worked tons of hours to give them a good life."
"So Mark took care of her while his mother worked?"
"Something like that. Anyway, Glory and I met in college. Roomed together for almost three years. We went to a club one weekend and Glory got really into this guy she met, so we split up. I mean, it's not like we were kids anymore. We were both over twenty one, and Glory had just broken up with a guy she'd dated since she was a freshman. She was ready for someone new."
"And?"
"Glory wasn't in class the next day, so I called to find out what happened." She paused, upset. "Turns out she was in the hospital."
"Who told you that?"
"Her mom. She's a neat mother, really together. Like my parents."
"What happened? An accident?"
"I wish. The guy had raped her and beat her up so bad, she never recovered. A few months later, she died. Her brother sat with her day after day. When she didn't make it, he blamed me."
"Why?"
"In his mind, I should have taken care of her, protected her."
"But it wasn't your fault."
"I met with him and tried to tell him that, that Glory was my best friend and I only wanted the best for her, but nothing I said mattered. He'd lost it. He beat me until I was unconscious, and then he beat me some more. When I woke up, my body was in the ground, and I was looking down at it."
Loralei put a hand to her heart. She felt so sorry for this girl, so sorry for Glory's mother and this girl's parents. "And you stayed?"
"My parents still don't know what happened to me, just that I disappeared. I watch them go through the motions every day, but they'll never heal. Never. Not until they know. You have to tell them."
Loralei understood. In her years of helping people, it was the not knowing that was the worst. "I will. I promise. Just tell me their names and where they live. But once they know, you have to leave here. You need to go to the Light."
The girl smiled. "I will. Mandy stayed here with me. She's determined to take me with her when she goes back."
Some good had come of all this, at least. "Tell me what I need to know. I'll fix things as fast as I can."
"My name is Samantha Smith. My parents live at….." She gave Loralei all the information that she needed to talk to her parents and tell them what had happened.
"Are you going to visit them now?" she asked when she finished.
"I might as well." Loralei didn't leave the cottage very often except for groceries and essentials. This, however, was worth a trip to the small town a few hours from here where Samantha grew up.
"Can I come with you?"
"I don't usually…"
Samantha cut her off. "Please?"
"Oh, all right." The girl had gone back often to see her parents and try to communicate with them in some way. Now that she'd found a way to do that, she needed to see their reaction with her own eyes. She needed to feel their relief to be free. "It won't bother me," she said, "but you won't be able to talk to them. I'll be able to see you. Your parents won't."
Samantha gave a sigh. "Will it just make it worse having us tag along?"
"Us?" Loralei only saw one spirit.
"Mandy's waiting for me outside. I don't mean anything bad, but she didn't want to come in here again. You sort of freaked her out the last time."
Loralei had that effect on people, dead or alive. A sudden rush of sympathy made her say, "If it makes you feel better, come along." Usually, she spent as little time with spirits as possible, both for her sake and theirs. She didn't want to encourage any bonds to keep them here.
She surprised herself, then, to have Samantha sitting in the passenger seat of her sleek, black Chrysler and Mandy floating in the back, chatting away happily, as they made the drive to Grant County. Halfway there, Loralei wondered if she'd made the right decision. She was used to her own company, to serene silence, but Samantha hadn't had anyone to talk to for years, and both girls were keyed up. They didn't shut up for the entire trip. Finally, she brought them back to business. "What happened to Mark? Do you know where he is?"
Samantha gave a small shudder. "He travels a lot now on business. It makes it easier for him to meet women and more convenient when they disappear." When they reached Samantha's small town, the girl pointed. "There, Jefferson Street. My parents live close to the library."
The cozy, Tudor house sat on a small incline. It had an arched, red door that welcomed them. Loralei knocked and took a deep breath. It was never easy telling people that she could see their dead loved ones.
A woman in her early sixties opened the door. She had dark brown hair with only a sprinkling of gray. Her eyes sparkled with the same intelligence as her daughter's, but there was a sadness in their depths that had settled in. "Yes?" She had a soft, melodic voice.
"Mrs. Smith? I'm Loralei Black." Even her name foreshadowed her destiny. "I've come about your daughter, Samantha."
The woman's body stiffened. Her expression became mask-like. She was retreating behind an invisible wall, trying to protect herself.
"I worked with another couple who lost a daughter. I helped them find Mandy's body in an old, unused cemetery. Your daughter's body was lying close by."
"Her body?" The woman inhaled quickly. "Samantha's….?"
"Dead."
Her shoulders sagged. She took a step backward, then looked at Loralei sharply. "Why have you come to tell me? Where are the police?"
"They haven't identified her remains yet."
"Then how…?"
"It's a complicated story. May I come in?"
The woman hesitated. Loralei was used to that. The bearer of bad news was seldom greeted with open arms, and people were always suspicious of her. Why wouldn't they be?
"Who did you say you are?" the woman asked. "And how did you know Samantha?"
"I'm Loralei Black. People hire me to find lost loved ones. I was looking for another girl and found your daughter on accident. They were buried close to one another."
Samantha's mother stepped back, barely making room for Loralei to enter the small foyer. An oak staircase climbed to the second floor on their right. An arch led to a living room on their left. "Come in." She led Loralei to a Victorian sofa with rolled arms and gleaming maple accents. "Tea?"
"No thanks." Loralei braced herself for the job at hand. No one ever believed her when she first explained what she did. She might as well start with that. "You're not going to believe me. No one does, but I've been able to see the dead since I was born. I didn't realize that was unusual until my mother almost fainted when I saw her brother walk through the wall
to tell her that he'd been killed in Viet Nam. He didn't want her to worry when no one found his body."
Mrs. Smith's eyes went wide. She reached for a Kleenex and nervously pleated it as Loralei went on.
"After I found Mandy's body, your daughter came to me and asked me to visit you. She hasn't left here because she said that you and your husband haven't been able to let go of her death and move on because you don't know what happened to her, if she's alive or dead."
"What do you want?" Mrs. Smith said. "Is this some kind of scam? Because if it is…"
"Tell her that I'm here, that I'll tell you her first name," Samantha said.
Loralei frowned, but did as Samantha told her. "Your daughter's here. She's going to tell me your first name."
"You could look that up. You've probably done research."
"Delilah," Samantha said, "but she won't go by that. Says it sounds like a scarlet woman. And she hates her middle name of Arabelle, so she abbreviated her maiden name—goes by Tommi for Thompson."
When Loralei repeated the information, Tommi Smith sagged against the back of her wingback chair. She pressed the Kleenex to her lips and said, "Oh lord."
"Samantha wants you to know that she's happy now. She's leaving soon to go to the Light, but she didn't want to go until you could be happy too."
Tears misted Tommi's eyes and she blinked them away. "Did she tell you what happened to her? Did she suffer?"
Loralei explained about Glory and her brother Mark. "It was a quick death. She didn't realize that he beat her to death until she hovered over her grave site."
Tommi took a shaky breath. "No one ever suspected. He was so distraught when his sister died. More distraught when Samantha disappeared."
"I'd guess he buries everything for long periods of time, and then he's consumed by rage. Something triggers a memory, but it's probably subconscious. He might not even remember everything that happens."
Tommi sat silent for a long moment. "We've become close friends with Glory's mother. At first, we consoled one another, and then we enjoyed each other's company. When I tell her this, she'll lose her son too. It will be worse than before. I don't know how she'll bear knowing that he's a killer."
"I can't prove anything," Loralei said. "There's no evidence that Mark killed anyone. No one will believe you, not even the police. Why don't you let me deal with Mark? I came here to give you peace, not to add to your problems."
"But it's not your responsibility. Samantha is our daughter. It's up to us…."
"…to love her and let her go. To be there for Mark's mother when she finds out, since she's a friend, and she's suffered enough. And to heal yourselves."
Mrs. Smith nodded. She looked unsure what to do next. Loralei rose to her feet. "It was nice meeting you." When she started to the door, the woman said, "Wait! You said that Samantha's here with you. Can she hear me?"
"And see you."
"Tell her we love her. We'll always love her."
Loralei smiled. "She knows that. That's why she came to tell you what happened before she leaves."
"And she's leaving now?" Two shots of light rose from the floor and flew upward. The mother gasped, then smiled. "Thank you."
"It's my gift." Loralei turned to let herself out the door.
"Can we pay you? We have money. You don't know how much this means to us."
"Yes, I do, but I have enough money of my own. I do this for the dead. My gift comes with responsibility." She left before the mother could offer more. On her drive home, she thought about what to do next. If the police didn't find anything to prove that Mark killed those two girls, how could she expose the truth? That wasn't in her usual job description. She had no experience solving crimes.
Chapter 3
When she parked the car and walked through the kitchen door, a glass of wine was waiting for her on the oak table. A box of chocolates was open with one, red rose lying across the luscious treats.
"You sure know how to greet a girl."
Death pushed himself out of his easy chair by the fireplace and came to join her in the kitchen. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and his long, hard-muscled body looked especially tempting. "No packages or groceries? Where did you get yourself off to?" he asked.
Geez, he looked good with his thick, black hair and dark eyes. When she told him about Samantha, he scowled at her. "We work with the dead, not the living."
"They crossed paths this time." She didn't give him time to argue. She took a long sip of deep, red wine and tipped her head toward him. "Kiss me. My lips taste good."
"You're always intoxicating." He raised a brow, aware of her tactic. "You're avoiding…"
She pressed her lips against his, stood on tiptoe to run her hands over his strong shoulders. "I know." She loved the feel of him, loved his earnestness and integrity. But she'd had enough of spirits today. She had needs of her own. "Is it working?"
His low moan answered her. "It should be illegal for you to wear skirts and low cut blouses."
"Really?" She knew men found her attractive, but she rarely thought about it. "Which do you like best—my legs or my boobs?" Her tone was flirtatious. She was ready to lighten up. He noticed.
He gave a wicked grin. "I don't have to choose. They're all part of the same package." He bent his head and claimed her with a long, slow kiss.
When he kissed her like that, she felt as if her bones dissolved as fast as her will power. No more fun and games. No more teasing. She always wanted more.
He glanced at the sweat that pooled in her cleavage and trickled beneath her bra. "It's a hot day. How do you feel about a dip in the pond?"
She loved to go skinny dipping with him. She tipped back her glass and finished her wine. She popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth and licked her lips suggestively. Then she started out the back door, giving him her best come hither look. He smiled and followed.
They tossed their clothes on the sandy shore and stepped into the tepid water. It was early August, and the sun heated the pond until it felt silky and warm. They waded out to where their feet couldn't touch bottom before Loralei grabbed Death's shoulders and wrapped her legs around him. She pressed herself against him, enjoying the slippery slide of his solid chest and strong arms as they floated together.
He gripped her waist and effortlessly lifted her higher to kiss her breasts, to run wet hands up and down her sides. When he released her, she lay back in the water, floating with her legs attached to him, letting his hard frame act as her buoy. Her midnight hair fanned out around her face, and when she took a deep, satisfied breath, her breasts pierced the surface of the water.
"Damn, you're beautiful." His voice was hoarse with passion. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. Their lips locked in a grinding kiss as he carried her to the sandy beach and lowered himself on top of her. She closed her eyes as he entered her, and the sun made a kaleidoscope of colors dance across her eyelids.
When they finished, their bodies were sugar-coated with sand that dried and clung to their skin. They returned to the water for a quick dip before pulling on their clothes and walking to the house. The phone was ringing and Loralei ran to answer it. "Hello?"
"Are you the death lady?" a male's voice asked.
"Yes."
The line went dead.
"Who was it?" Death asked.
When she explained, his expression grew solemn. He punched in the caller ID and a name swam onto the view screen. Mark Burgen. Lips pressed in a tight line, he said, "You won't need to look for Mark and check into what he's doing. He's looking for you."
"Why?" Samantha's mother was an intelligent woman. She wouldn't mention anything Loralei told her. "How?" Loralei didn't advertise her gifts. People had to search to find her.
"The police found both girls' bodies. They've obviously identified Samantha Smith's and are questioning anyone who was involved with her. That would include Glory's brother. I'd guess that Mandy's parents mentioned your name. They had to give the police some
reason how they found her."
Loralei shrugged. "Even if they did, Samantha's mother wouldn't tell Mark that she suspects he killed both girls."
"No, but someone must have explained that you helped find both bodies. What did Samantha tell you? That there were more girls, more graves. If you can find one, or two, why not more? And then the trail would lead to only one person. Mark."
Even though it was a hot day, Loralei shivered. Death wrapped an arm around her in a protective embrace. "Don't worry," he said. "You're mine. If Mark comes looking for you, all you have to do is think of me, and I'll be here. It's the last thing Mark will ever do."
That comforted her at first, until she thought about what each girl had told her. "But what if he bashes me over the head from behind? I won't have time to think your name."
His embrace became more tender. "I can feel you with me every minute of every day, no matter where I am or what I'm doing. Even when you sleep, you're near. Unconscious is another thing. It's like an emptiness. I'll know… and I'll come."
She smiled and nuzzled close to him. "I never want to lose you."
"Impossible, but I could lose you, and I don't intend to let that happen." His tone was harsh. Loralei had never seen him angry before. Once she thought about it, though, she'd seen him frustrated and agitated. After all these thousands of years, senseless killing still bothered him. A good thing. It meant he was a good man.
She looked up at him and gently touched his cheek. "If something would happen to me, would you come to help me cross over?"
His eyes grew hard. "I'd go with you."
"You can't. Who'd do your job?"
"People would have to make do the best they could."
She sprinkled kisses over his face. She didn't believe him. He was too conscientious to leave people to their own devices, but she could tell that he couldn’t bear to think about it. "Then you'd better keep me safe."
"I'll do everything in my power."
