by Lori Drake
“Ohmygod!” Lucy said, pivoting gracefully and tearing her eyes from Sadie to latch onto me. “You rescued her!”
I blinked. “What? No, she was already dead—hence the ghost bit.”
“No, no…” Lucy shifted Sadie into a one-handed grip and pointed at the dog with her other hand. “Her! She reeks of smoke, and you look like you crawled out of a chimney. Wait, did you go down a chimney? Santa Claus style?”
“Of course he didn’t go down a chimney.” Adam scoffed. “Maybe you could fit down a chimney, beanpole. But a full-grown man?”
Lucy snorted and rolled her eyes. “With this rack? Please.”
My eyes automatically lowered, but I swear it was the briefest of glances. “I went in the front door, like a normal guy. But yes, I went in after Sadie.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” Lucy closed the distance between us and planted a big wet kiss on my cheek. “Good job, hero.”
Jessica coughed, drawing my attention. Her lips twitched in a smile and her brown eyes danced with amusement. “You thought it was a kid, didn’t you?”
Damn, she was good. I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled in spite of myself. “Maybe.”
The twins dissolved into laughter, but Jessica just smiled a knowing smile and leaned over to fetch another beer from the cooler. Water dripped down the dark bottle and dotted the dusty wooden porch as she held it out. “Beer or shower first?”
I claimed the beer, then headed for the front door. “Beer in the shower. Lucy, would you mind looking after Sadie for a few minutes?”
“She could use a shower too!” Lucy said, but it wasn’t stopping her from holding the little mutt against her chest. Her Sailor Moon tee shirt was already smeared with soot.
“Shower with her? Call me old-fashioned, but I barely know her.”
“Don’t forget, four days until concert time!” Jessica called after me. Her band was playing their first gig with their new lead guitarist, and she was stoked.
“I’ll be there with bells on. Only, not actual bells. I’ll leave the music to you.”
I didn’t actually take the beer into the shower with me, but I did take a few pulls off of it before going in. Grateful for the high-tech tankless water heater that’d been installed a week ago—the better to serve a large house with seven full-time adult residents—I stood under the spray until the water running off my body was no longer gray.
I couldn’t help but think about the events of the day. I’d been back in town less than twenty-four hours, and I’d already gotten in over my head. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire. Literally. A little downtime between crises would’ve been nice. Now I had to figure out what to do with a dead woman’s dog, when what I really wanted was a chance to relax and unpack the events of the last few days.
It’d started—as it usually does—with a ghost, and I’d ended up being held prisoner by a cult in east bumfuck Nevada, part of a megalomaniacal witch’s magnificent menagerie. But that was over now, and the aforementioned ghost had crossed over. I’d dropped off his ashes with his wife and kid just that morning when I got back into town, then treated myself to lunch and people watching… and you know how that ended.
I closed my eyes and tipped my face into the spray, wishing it was as easy to wash away the consequences of the day as it was the evidence. I didn’t know what to do with Sadie. I didn’t know the shelters in the area at all, and Leti’d turn over in her grave if I left the mutt with any place that’d put animals down willy-nilly. As always, thinking about my wife made my chest tighten. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but I figured it’d be a long time before I could think about her without feeling that familiar ache, without remembering the night I’d lost her. I still couldn’t bring myself to listen to the song that’d been on the radio when that damn tourist crossed the center line…
I shut off the water rather than let myself sink into that memory. When I stepped out of the shower, Trish was sitting on the counter beside the sink. She glanced up from studying her chipped black nail polish. There wasn’t a mark on her to indicate how she’d died. I only knew it was from internal bleeding because that’s what the cops had told her brother, and he, in turn, told me. Like Leti, she’d been in a car accident. Like Leti, it’d been because of me. Unlike Leti, she hadn’t crossed over. I was pretty sure that was my fault, too.
Frowning, I grabbed a towel and covered myself. “Do we have to have the personal space talk again?”
“Lighten up, Torres. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides, we need to talk.”
I tied the towel around my waist on principle. I still felt… something… about the night we’d spent together. My feelings for my sister-in-law were a jumbled mess. She’d only been dead for a few months, and though we’d been friends for years, we’d never really connected until the night she died. Remember what I said about the newly dead not realizing they weren’t supposed to be able to touch people? Let’s just say she touched me a lot that night and leave it at that.
“Can it wait until I’m dry, at least?” I’m not usually a two towel kind of guy, but I grabbed a second one and rubbed some of the moisture from my hair.
Trish shrugged. I took that as a yes and dried off, pulled on a clean pair of boxer briefs and a pair of sweatpants while she pretended not to watch and I pretended not to notice. She seemed uncharacteristically subdued. Whatever it was she wanted to talk about, I didn’t think I was going to like it. As if “we need to talk” ever portended anything good.
“Okay, what do you want to talk about?” I snagged my beer from the counter, then leaned against the wall opposite her, still sans shirt. She dragged her eyes up my bare chest and clicked her tongue piercing against her teeth. Whatever was on her mind, it couldn’t be too bad since her lecherous ways were still intact. I decided to tease her. “My eyes are up here.”
She snagged the shirt from the counter beside her and threw it at me. “Shut up.”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I do.” Trish folded her arms and glared at me. “What were you thinking, running into that building? You could’ve died.”
I had a feeling this was coming. Truth be told, I was surprised she hadn’t read me the riot act at the scene.
“I didn’t,” I said, simply.
She blew out a frustrated breath in a very human fashion. Ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but they still retained some mannerisms from life. “Do you want to die that badly? Bad enough to die for a stupid dog?”
“Give me a break. I don’t have a death wish.”
“Could’ve fooled me. First you hare off into the middle of nowhere chasing that piece of ass and get yourself kidnapped. Now you’re running into burning buildings…”
Lips twitching with the effort not to smile, I laid my hand over my heart. “Aw, you do care.”
She threw a bar of soap at me next. I ducked, and it hit the wall with a thud. My heart quickened, and I grinned at her show of temper. Leti’d had a temper too, but she’d had more control over it than her little sister. Maybe I liked playing with fire more than I wanted to admit.
I retrieved the soap and returned it to the dish on the counter, which left me standing in front of Trish. “Okay, first of all… I wasn’t chasing a piece of ass. You know better. Joey and Chris needed my help, and it all turned out okay in the end.”
“Did it?” She didn’t look convinced.
“You’re the one that said I needed to move on. I’m trying, Trish. I moved to Seattle. I’m starting over. But I can’t stop seeing ghosts, and I can’t stop wanting to help them. That’s always going to be a part of me.”
She curled her fingers around my forearm. “I know, it’s just— Don’t be reckless, chulo.”
I knew better than to look down. Trish may have been good at hurling physical objects on impulse, but it was the unconscious actions she excelled at. If I drew too much attention to what she was doing, her intangible fingers would wisp right through me. But as I stood there, I
remembered that Trish wasn’t the first ghost to grab my arm that day. Sadie’s owner had touched me, too. Surprised me, even, because I hadn’t seen her first. As if she’d known, somehow, that I’d be able to see her.
That was new.
3
I woke the next morning to the sound of rain pattering on the roof and Sadie’s incessant yipping. I peeled my eyes open and squinted at the clock. Seven-thirty. I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head, but it silenced neither the rain nor the little dog. It wasn’t long before my next-door neighbor pounded on the wall between our rooms. I grimaced and removed the pillow. I couldn’t make the rain stop, but I could do something about the dog.
“Sadie, put a sock in it!”
My words had no effect, so I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed and looked around. The little brown dog danced around on the chair in front of the window, yapping for all she was worth.
“What’s gotten into you?” I stood and walked over, pushing the curtains aside to peer out. The dog quieted when I put a hand on her, twisting around to try and lick my fingers while I looked out the window.
I saw nothing unusual at first, but after scanning around a bit, I spotted a man standing beside a tree some ways off. He wore baggy, ill-fitting trousers with suspenders and a long-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way up to the neck. A hat was perched atop his head, and he had a corncob pipe clenched between his teeth. I was certain it was a ghost even before he vanished and reappeared closer, standing directly beneath my window. His features were gaunt, cheeks sallow, and he gazed up at me with sunken eyes.
Sadie barked again and I shushed her, letting the curtain fall back in place. If the ghost wanted to talk, he could come inside. I wasn’t trekking out into the rain for a consult without so much as a cup of coffee first. While I put on a shirt, Sadie hopped down from the chair and trotted over to sit by the door. Whenever I glanced at her, her little tail thumped against the floorboards, and she gave me a doggy grin complete with tongue lolling. The little shit was lucky she was so adorable, because I was basically the opposite of a morning person.
The dog trailed me like a furry shadow as I went through my morning routine, starting in the bathroom and ending in the kitchen. Half of it was still blocked off with hanging plastic taped to the ceiling, keeping the dust contained so at least a little bit of the room was a functional space. The coffee pot, microwave, and toaster had been relocated to the kitchen table, beneath which was tucked a mini fridge. That was the extent of our available appliances at the time. I followed the smell of coffee to the mostly full pot, poured myself a cup and popped a bagel in the toaster, then sank into a chair while Sadie explored the floor under the table.
I quickly realized how ill-prepared I was for dog-sitting, much less ownership. After noticing how Sadie was watching me eat my bagel with rapt attention, I gave her the other half and rounded up a bowl of water for her. She drank deeply from it, and five minutes later was doing a potty dance by the back door. I let her out and went back to my breakfast, but of course when she came back in, she was soaking wet and smelled, well, like a wet dog. I dried her off the best I could with a kitchen towel. Thankfully, she was pretty small.
“I’m going to have to figure out what to do with you today, aren’t I?”
She didn’t answer, of course, just wagged her tail and shook dog-scented water all over me again. Eau de canine. Just what I needed.
“Funny, I don’t remember you putting down a pet deposit,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
Sadie barked belatedly at the new arrival. I glanced over my shoulder and found my landlord sprawled in a dining chair. Chris was alarmingly light-footed, but he was a dancer, so I supposed that went with the territory. He had that dark hair, blue eyes, and chiseled features thing going for him. I don’t swing that way, and neither did he, but I could see why the ladies liked him. Regardless, he only had eyes for one of them.
The good-natured werewolf peered curiously at Sadie, no hint of censure on his face. Nonetheless, I felt the need to reassure him. Both of us, actually.
“It’s just temporary. Her owner died yesterday.” I gave Sadie’s damp, fluffy ears a ruffle and straightened. She wandered closer to Chris, stopping a few feet away and sniffing the air cautiously.
Chris frowned and leaned over to offer a hand. “That sucks. Poor little thing.”
Sadie crept a little closer, sniffed, then darted away and disappeared under a chair.
“That’s weird. She was pretty friendly with Lucy last night.”
He shrugged, appearing unconcerned. “It’s an alpha thing. She might warm up to me in time. How’d you end up with her? Was her owner a friend of yours?”
“A client, I guess. You know how it goes.” I leaned over and glanced under Sadie’s chair, but she didn’t appear to be cowering as she sat looking out the sliding glass door.
Chris nodded. “Ahh, got it.” He had been a client of mine a couple of times. In fact, the first time I’d met him I thought he was a ghost. Long story. “What are you going to do with her?”
“Find her a good home, I guess. Know anyone who might take her off our hands?”
Laughing, Chris held up both hands. “Our hands? Hey now, don’t go making this my problem. I’ve got enough to deal with.”
“Right, sorry. Has a date been set for the funeral yet? I’d like to pay my respects.”
Chris’s expression sobered, and he joined Sadie in looking out the window into the rainy, gray morning. He’d lost his mother just a few days ago. I wish I didn’t know what that was like. It sucks, especially when it’s sudden and unexpected.
“Not yet,” Chris said. “Joey’s handling the details, but one of us will let you know when it’s settled. It might be a week or so.”
I joined him at the table, sitting across from him with my coffee. I knew the look of grief in his eyes all too well. I’d experienced my share of it, and I’d been seeing it everywhere for the last three-plus years in the eyes of the dead as well as the living.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, looking into my mug in an effort not to pressure him. “Sometimes talking helps.”
He paused long enough that I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me, then shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not.”
I rolled a shoulder and sipped my coffee. “Okay. So, back to my earlier question: do you know anyone who might want a dog?”
“I’ve only been living here slightly longer than you, so… no, I’ve got nothing. Ask Itsuo, if you can find him. He’s been here the longest.”
“You want me to ask the antisocial loner if he has friends?”
“Fair point. Well, just ask around. Someone might know someone. Anyway, I should get moving.” Chris stood and retrieved two disposable cups from the box of supplies, then proceeded to fill them with hot coffee.
“Don’t let me stop you. I’ve gotta run out for some dog food, but I’m going to hang those ceiling fans today.”
Chris snapped his fingers. “Speaking of going out, I’ve got a lead on a car for you.”
I eyed him dubiously over my mug. “Oh?” I hate cars. Nearly dying in one left a lasting impression. I’d been perfectly content with my Harley for the last few years, but there was a big difference between the climate of dry, warm San Diego and wet, cold Seattle. I’d heard summer in the Pacific Northwest was actually quite pleasant, but I hadn’t made it that far yet. Chris knew all about my issues with cars, and he was a self-professed “car guy.” He’d promised to find me something I could both live with and afford.
He grinned. Maybe he could hear my skepticism in my voice. “Yeah. This is a little unconventional, but hear me out. Jeep Wrangler.”
“Dude, the whole point of this exercise is to get me something with a roof.”
Chris grabbed the sugar and began doctoring one of the to-go cups while he filled me in. “That’s the beauty of it. You can remove the roof when you want to and leave it on when you don’t. The
y come in hard and soft top. I recommend a soft top, because it’s easier to take off and on. You could even carry it with you and put it up if it starts raining. Plus, if you get something pre-nineties on the cheap, there’ll be no fancy computer. You can do all the repairs and upkeep yourself. That’ll save you a ton.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I dunno, man. I know enough to tinker with my bike, but when it comes to cars, I don’t know jack.”
“The best way to learn is by doing. Anything you can’t figure out, I can help with. If you don’t like the Jeep idea, we can go convertible but those will cost you significantly more.”
I mulled this over while he finished stirring in sugar and securing the tops of the cups with plastic lids. “Okay, Jeep it is. You said you had a lead. That means an actual car to look at, right?”
Chris scooped up the coffees. “A couple of them. Word to the wise: Never buy the first car you look at. I’m heading to Joey’s now, but I’ve got some free time this afternoon if you want to go into town and kick tires.”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
He left, and I lingered at the table while I finished my coffee and contemplated becoming a car owner again. It’d take a big chunk out of my savings, money I had been planning to use to keep myself in rent for a good long while, but it might be worth it to stay a little dryer in the rainy seasons.
A bark followed by a soft growl pulled my attention back to the present. Sadie left the shelter of the dining chair and padded to the sliding door, nails clicking on the tile. She barked again, and I looked out the door to find the ghost from earlier standing in the rain, maybe twenty feet from the door. He wasn’t alone now. A woman with bangs teased straight up stood beside him in torn fishnets and a form-fitting dress under a short denim jacket, like a walking time capsule from the eighties. Her cause of death was easy to determine, even from a distance. Her throat had been slit.
Anger welled inside me, but I tamped it down. Getting angry over violence done to a long-dead woman wouldn’t get me anywhere. Sadie continued barking.
