The Death & Loralei Collection

by Judith Post

  "Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Time to stop a murder."

  That's all it took. She was up and ready, and they were on their way, before ten.

  * * *

  It was a good thing her car had tinted glass. That way, no one could see in. It might cause an accident if a driver glanced over and saw the Grim Reaper behind the wheel. They reached Rosalie's house fifteen minutes early. Death pulled the car off the road near the beginning of her property and parked behind a hedge of burning bush shrubs. The foliage splashed the landscape with fiery red. From their hiding spot, Death and Loralei could see the long, winding drive that led to Rosalie's sprawling, white, ranch-style house. Asphalt trails led to several, gleaming white stables. White fences lined the verdant pastures. The lawn around the house could compete with any golf course.

  A stand of pine trees nestled at the north edge of the property to block heavy winds. Loralei rolled down her window and inhaled their tangy scent. Crisp, autumn air whispered in small breezes.

  "Thanks for letting me drive." Death leaned back to get more comfortable. The black of his robes blended with the car's black, leather seats.

  Loralei reached over to stroke the smooth coolness of his white skull. "You look awfully happy behind a steering wheel."

  He ran his skeletal fingers lovingly over the dashboard. "I don't get to drive often."

  "Really? People don't trust your bony self with their cars?"

  He grimaced. "Not funny. I usually just think of a location, and I'm there."

  "I wish I could do that."

  He shrugged. "It's fast, but there's no enjoying the journey, no scenery, only blurs."

  "I still wouldn't mind being able to transport."

  He grinned—a bit macabre in his state—but got distracted when a young couple left Rosalie's house with Rosalie and Gordon close behind them. People shook hands, a formal passing of the torch, before Rosalie and Gordon walked to a dark SUV and climbed inside.

  "What are the new people going to do with so much property if they don't raise horses?" Death asked.

  "Chris thinks they're going to start some kind of private school. All the stables will be converted to dorms."

  Death waited until the SUV turned and got a head start before he slowly pulled onto the road to follow it. Loralei had looked up the route to the lake, but they weren't sure if Gordon would go there directly.

  With Death driving, Loralei got to focus her attention on the beautiful scenery. Big houses on large properties stood far back from the road. Trees blazed with colors. Maples donned crimsons and golds. Pine trees' dark greens contrasted with oranges and rusts. A man mowed around a bed of yellow mums, and the smell of fresh-cut grass teased her nostrils.

  Death turned on a CD. Leonard Cohen's gravelly voice filled the car. One CD led to another, and the four hours passed quickly until finally, Rockhill Lake beckoned. It was so large, Loralei couldn't see the far shore. From the maps she'd studied, she knew rivers and channels connected it to other lakes, forming a long chain of waters to explore. Loralei inhaled deeply. She loved the scent of lakes and oceans—fresh, clean, and vibrant.

  They followed Gordon's SUV around the lake's east side until they came to a marina. Death parked the car, and they watched Gordon and Rosalie go inside. A short time later, they exited and walked to a riverboat with a red-and-white striped awning. Easy to notice. They boarded, got their things in place, and an engine purred to life. Gordon steered the boat out onto the sparkling, cobalt waters. Loralei shielded her eyes with her hand to watch which direction he took.

  "I'll be back pretty soon. Keep an eye on them," she told Death. She hurried into the tall, steel building. When she returned, dangling a set of keys in her hand, she asked, "Well?"

  He pointed, and she had a good idea where Gordon was going—toward a small tributary that led to a secluded nature area. They had to wait until no one was in sight before they hurried to the boat she'd called ahead to rent. Each of them gripped one of the handles of the large cooler she'd packed with food. They might be stuck, doing stake-out, for a few days before Gordon made his move, and Loralei intended to enjoy herself as much as possible. She'd packed all of her picnic favorites.

  Death's step had a bounce to it as he crossed the deck of the trawler. It had a small cabin and galley, so that he could stand inside to steer, hidden from view. If driving a car made him happy, the keys to a boat made him almost giddy. Loralei pointed at a tiny dot of red-and-white striped awning. "Follow that riverboat."

  With a grin, Death started the engine and skimmed across the water. Loralei stayed on deck to see better. Water sprayed her, the wind whipped her hair, and the views took her breath away. A perimeter of color, dotted with houses, surrounded them. The sky shimmered a brilliant blue, dotted with fat, puffy clouds. Rays of sun glinted off the waves.

  Death steered straight toward the center of the lake. He gave Gordon's riverboat plenty of time to disappear into the tributary before he turned in that direction. Then, with the engine on low, he slowly made his way into the passage too. The world disappeared. They found themselves flanked by steep banks with high grasses. All Loralei could see were blue waters beneath them, a blue sky above them. A heron flapped skyward as they approached it. Ducks swam into small alcoves.

  They followed the banks for over an hour before the waterway widened, a little at a time, and opened into a broad lake. Reeds rimmed the water and poked their heads above the shallows before the deeper center swallowed them. No houses hugged the shoreline. None were allowed. A few other crafts dotted the edges of the lake, housing people with binoculars and serious-looking cameras dangling from their necks.

  "This part of the nature area's known for its bird watching." From her deep, canvas bag, Loralei handed binoculars into the cabin for Death and brought out some for herself. "A pair of eagles nest in a tree somewhere around here."

  "You've done your research. You came prepared."

  "I'm trying to add a red-haired, wife killer to my life list."

  Death chuckled and lifted the binoculars to scan the area. "Gordon will be playing at being a loving husband today. There are too many people. He'll wait till no one's around."

  Loralei frowned at that. "How are we going to stay out of sight? I was hoping there'd be cottages and rental piers. This is all open. No place to park our boat and blend in."

  "That's probably why he chose it."

  "So what do we do?"

  "Did you see that alcove a little ways back? We can anchor there for the night, make our way to the shoreline, and spread a blanket in the grasses. We can keep an eye on them from there."

  Satisfied, Loralei dug in her oversized bag for a sketchbook.

  "Are you going to draw?" Death asked.

  "It helps me pass the time." Colored chalks came next, then she rummaged deeper to bring out a Kindle. "Thought you might like to read. You're not used to sitting and doing nothing either." She switched it on and scrolled through a variety of novels she'd downloaded. "Read as many as you want."

  Loralei tugged a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head and settled herself, Indian fashion, on the sundeck. Even if by chance, Rosalie should spy her, she couldn't see her face and recognize her. A few hours later, though, she was thoroughly bored. Nothing exciting had happened on Gordon's boat. Rosalei stretched on a deck chair, sipped cocktails, and read a paperback. Gordon fished or disappeared inside to play pool. Loralei could hear the balls bumping against each other in the stillness that surrounded them. Small speedboats kept coming and going until finally, she said, "I'm hungry. I packed some of our favorites. Let's eat."

  He opened the cabin door a crack and grimaced. "I can't really eat in this guise, but I'll keep you company."

  She looked at his white bones. Why hadn't she thought of that? Because she'd never spent any time with him as the Grim Reaper before. She sighed. What did it matter? She usually ate alone before Tammy and Chris moved onto her property. Joining Death in the galley, she rummaged in the cooler and came
out with a tub of hummus and a bag of pita chips. She added broccoli salad and a bottle of raspberry, iced tea. "You have to do most of the talking," she told Death, "since I'm eating and you're not."

  He bowed his head and hunched his bony shoulders.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I didn't think far enough ahead. We're going to be lying on a blanket under the stars tonight, and I got pretty excited about that. I didn't stop to think I'd be …me. No…you know…nothing romantic."

  She reached across the narrow table to stroke his white finger bones. "Just being with you is romantic."

  "It's not the same."

  She sighed a second time, then regretted it. She was determined to be as cheerful as possible. "We both got a little carried away. This is our first vacation from home. Next time, maybe we'll pop a tent in the woods somewhere."

  He laughed. "As long as it's on your property. We can pretend that we're in some exotic location."

  "Tell me what country we're going to, and I'll buy food that matches our theme."

  He gripped her hand in his. "Are you disappointed?"

  "A little. Aren't you?"

  "A lot," he admitted. "But this is a job, and I shouldn't have lost track of that."

  They finished the meal, making small talk, and by the time Loralei returned everything to the cooler or trash, she was in a better mood. So was Death. Unrealistic expectations had derailed them for a moment, but they'd dealt with it. It was time to move on.

  Loralei returned to her sketching, and Death went back to the Kindle. When the sun hovered on the horizon, he steered the boat into the small alcove and anchored it there. Then they waded to the shoreline, a blanket held high over their heads, and waited for the sun to set. When it was dark, they moved closer to Gordon's boat and made themselves comfortable. Loralei stood first watch, even though Death didn't need sleep. Then Death took over and Loralei curled on her side and let slumber claim her.

  * * *

  Sunlight warmed her eyelids, turning everything red. She rolled to her side before peering at the morning. Death was lying on his stomach in the tall grasses, watching Gordon's boat. He pressed a finger to his mouth and motioned toward a boat a short distance away. Two couples pressed binoculars to their eyes, looking for birds.

  Damn. Didn't birdwatchers ever sleep in? Loralei turned onto her stomach too. Keeping low to the ground, she and Death crawled toward their trawler. Once they were on the far side of the slope and safely out of sight, Loralei stood. She whispered, "A whole week of this is going to get old."

  Death motioned her on board the boat. Once inside the cabin, with the door closed, he quietly said, "Rain's predicted tomorrow. I think he'll make his move then."

  "Why then?" Loralei went to the galley kitchen to start coffee.

  "Hopefully, no people around."

  Aaah, Loralei nodded, following his reasoning. She never guessed she'd hope for rain, but right now, rain tomorrow sounded wonderful. The thought made it so she could relax more today.

  Death steered the trawler close to the mouth of the lake, within sight of Gordon's riverboat. Gordon and Rosalie didn't leave its cabin until a few hours later. Loralei felt a pang of envy. They were probably enjoying themselves the way she'd hoped to enjoy Death. But she might as well make the best of things. She jammed the wide-brimmed, straw hat on her head once more and set up an easel on the prow of the boat.

  Flipping to an early sketch, Loralei started painting a water scene with a dark and brooding sky. She had a new commission for a fantasy book cover. The protagonist was a selkie. She'd made a quick drawing to show the author for approval, and she might as well paint the picture's background now. This time, without the worry of constantly watching Gordon, time slipped away while she worked.

  It was early afternoon before Death cracked the cabin door and called to her. "Aren't you getting hungry yet?"

  The minute she heard the words, her stomach rumbled.

  He laughed. "I'll take that as a yes. Want to share the booth in the galley with me?"

  She stood and stretched. When she went down the steps to their tiny kitchen, Death had a plate waiting for her, with two pieces of cold, fried chicken, potato salad, and baked beans. When she started to eat, he kept up a cheerful banter about the books he'd enjoyed on her Kindle.

  She stared at him. "You've already read five novels?"

  "Seven. The other two were just okay. Too girly for me."

  She shook her head and went to the cooler in search of brownies. "I can't believe you've gone through that many already."

  He tapped a white finger bone to his skull. "Keen intelligence and quick reflexes."

  She couldn't help it. She laughed. "You sure don't look the part right now."

  "Hey, there's a lot to be said for tall, bony, and handsome."

  She laughed more. So did he. They teased each other while they started a quick clean-up. They were almost finished when he cocked his head to one side and strained to listen.

  A knot of fear clenched Loralei's stomach. "Rosalie?"

  "No, a hurricane."

  She swallowed hard. "Lots of deaths?"

  He nodded, but returned to wiping the table.

  She placed her arm on his. "Go."

  "I promised I'd stay. I have an assistant, you know. He can deal with this one."

  She gaped. "No, I didn't know someone worked with you. Another Reaper?"

  "No, a Shade."

  He didn't say much about his work, and she didn't ask. "But you two usually work together?"

  Another nod.

  "Then go. There are enough boats close by to make me feel safe. The rain doesn't start until tomorrow. Just be back before morning."

  "You're sure? I'm always leaving you."

  "I knew that going into this. Go."

  "I'll hurry." He faded and finally completely disappeared. He'd worry about her and be back as soon as possible, she knew.

  When she returned to the deck, she took a paperback with her. She lay on her stomach, on the prow of the boat, and spent the rest of the day reading.

  Before dusk, dark clouds tumbled across the sky, blocking the sun. A stiff breeze blew up. One boat after another pulled anchor and left the lake. Loralei didn't feel comfortable deserting the area. If she steered the boat back into its alcove, Gordon and Rosalie would be alone. Instead, she started the engine and maneuvered the trawler directly across from the riverboat and dropped anchor in shallow waters. When the rain started, she ducked inside the cabin, sat at the curve of windows, and kept a close eye on Gordon's boat.

  Thunder growled overhead. Lightning forks zigzagged in sharp streaks. The lights went on in the riverboat's cabin, and Loralei picked up her binoculars. Gordon started drinking. An hour passed, and Rosalie crossed the room toward him to take his bottle of whiskey. He grabbed her wrist, removed the bottle from her hand, and plunked it back on the side table.

  Loralei made a show of turning on the trawler's outside lights. She put on a poncho and went out on deck. Surely Gordon wasn't drunk enough to be completely careless. She shielded her eyes with her hand and pretended to enjoy the dramatic beauty of the storm. Gordon glanced across the water at her movements, pushed himself to his feet, and made a wobbly retreat to the back of the cabin—hopefully to fall into bed and sleep it off.

  Rain pelted her so hard, it hurt. She forced herself to remain outside a while longer. When she couldn't stop shivering and her teeth chattered, she decided she'd done enough. She dipped inside and closed the door against the cold rain.

  She sat at her post and watched for another few hours. Finally, Rosalie started to the back rooms of the riverboat, too, and the lights went out. Loralei stared through the sheets of rain, determined to keep watch, but she woke with a jerk when her head fell forward and bumped the glass. She blinked to focus. The winds were gone, and a gentle shower tip-tapped on the roof. She went to the galley to make coffee. She returned with a steaming mug, hoping the caffeine would keep her awake.

  Ti
me crawled forward. Each minute reminded her that she should give in to sleep. She went for another mug of her black brew. Its jolt helped, but her body protested. She was on her third cup when she spotted movement on Gordon's boat.

  He stomped from the cabin and headed straight for the small dingy, intended to take people to shore. Rosalie hurried after him.

  A chill slid up and down Loralei's spine. This was the same tactic he'd used to kill Lesley. He staggered straight to the railing and began to untie the dinghy. Rosalie struggled to stop him. Soon, she'd find herself between him and the rail. Then he'd smack her on the head and push her into the water.

  "Death! I need you!"

  Loralei didn't wait to see how things played out. She ran to the ladder on the side of the trawler and started down it. When she was waist deep in water, she pushed off. She was three-fourths of the way to the riverboat when Gordon raised his arm, swung at Rosalie's temple, and pushed her over before she could fall to the deck.

  Loralei watched Rosalie's body plummet into the waves. When she reached Rosalie's entry point, she dove after her. Dark water engulfed her, but the lake wasn't as deep here. She could touch bottom. She turned in a circle and saw a dark shadow drift into a clump of seaweed. Out of air, she shot back to the surface, took a deep breath, and dove again. This time, she grabbed Rosalie's arm before she had to ascend.

  Her lungs were on fire by the time she broke surface. She yanked Rosalie's head above water too.

  She was carting Rosalie to the trawler when a bright light caught her in its beams.

  "You!" Gordon pointed. "Stop!"

  Loralei fought to swim faster. She heard Gordon run across the riverboat's deck. The engine sprang to life. Holy hell, he was going to try to run over them. But then she heard a strangled cry—a sound of pure fright—and she turned to see what was happening.

  Death strode across the wooden boards and swung his scythe. The blade made an invisible slice, cutting through Gordon's head and heart. Gordon fell. Dead in an instant. Death stood there, ignoring the body. He made no effort to collect its soul. But someone had to. A dark form appeared, a blacker black than the night. Human in shape. It turned for one instant and saw Loralei. With a quick nod, it returned to Gordon's corpse, hooked a finger through his flesh, and removed his spirit. Gordon's soul struggled for a moment, unwilling to leave, but the Shade gripped him tighter, and they both disappeared.