Dead Girls Are Easy

by Terri Garey

  “Come here often?” I’d heard that cheesy pickup line far too many times to have any patience with it, but when I turned to sneer, there was Joe, drinks in both hands and a plucky grin on his face.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him how out of place he looked in his button-down dress shirt. But at least he had on well-worn jeans, nicely faded, particularly in the crotch area. I made myself a note to send him for more drinks soon, just so I could watch him walk away.

  “All the time.” I took the fancy pink drink from his hand?Cosmopolitan, I think, though I had no way of knowing?and patted the seat beside me. “Saved you a seat.”

  Joe sat down and put his own pink drink on the table, eyeing both it and our surroundings with a bit of trepidation.

  Taking pity on him, I leaned over to ask, “You don’t really drink that stuff, do you?”

  “Only for medicinal purposes.” He picked it up and took a sip, grimacing. “Good thing I’m not sick.”

  I laughed, glad to see his expression relax a bit. “Then why’d you order them?”

  He shrugged, then met my eye. “I was trying to impress you with my knowledge of what hip young women drink. My sister Julie told me it was these”?he waved a hand at the pink froth?“or apple martinis. Next time I’ll try the martini.”

  “Ah. Sex in the City fan, right?”

  He put his head in his hands for a moment. “Oh, boy. The blind leading the blind?is it that obvious?”

  “Oh, it’s obvious.” I pushed my beer toward him, willing to share. “But it’s kinda cute you went to your sister for advice.”

  He grinned, taking a healthy swig before pushing it back toward me. “Then I’ll take what I can get.”

  He’d left me wide open on that one. The music was pulsing, the lead singer belting out a song about bad habits, the lighting dim. I leaned in closer so he could hear me without having to raise my voice.

  “You’re kinda cute, too.”

  “Just how many beers have you had?”

  “Are you asking as my doctor?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not your doctor anymore, Nicki.”

  “Too bad. I’ve got a nurse’s outfit I wore to a Halloween party once, and I was thinking we could play Hide the Stethoscope.”

  He laughed, eyeing me appreciatively. “You like to shock people, don’t you?”

  I shrugged, grinning. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Oh, it’s obvious. But it’s kinda cute.”

  Now I was the one to laugh, appreciating the way he’d picked up on the turnaround of our earlier remarks. I took another sip of beer, then pressed him a little harder.

  “Well? Whaddya think?”

  “What do I think? Sorry, but I don’t let anybody inside my head without an expensive dinner and a bottle or two of wine.”

  The wicked glint in his eye sparked a memory of me saying the exact same thing to him while I was in the hospital.

  I drew back, smiling. I liked a man who could hold his own. “Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding the issue?”

  He was watching the band now instead of me, his gaze sliding over the bass player and moving on to the drummer, a redhead with wild orange streaks in her curls.

  “Is there an issue?”

  I gave a melodramatic sigh, toying with my now nearly empty bottle. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  He stood, leaning in until his lips brushed my ear.

  “Considering I’ve already seen you naked, I know exactly what I’m missing.” Did I imagine the heat in that husky whisper? “But I wouldn’t want you to think I was easy.”

  He pulled back, and damned if I didn’t sway toward him.

  “I’ll go get us a couple more from the bar.”

  I sighed again, quietly this time, but I had my consolation prize. Those jeans looked every bit as good from the rear.

  After two beers, some great music, and lots of cheerful vibes, the band had finished their set. They took their cheers and jeers and left the stage, leaving a momentary lull in the action until the laughter and conversation started to pick up.

  “How about we go somewhere for a late night coffee?” Joe said. “I’ll even kick in for a Danish if you can find us one.”

  “Big spender, huh?” Damned if Joe wasn’t getting better-looking as the evening went on. Blue was a nice color for button-down shirts, though I’d put him in something darker. Eggplant or plum maybe, richer shades to set off his dark hair. He looked boyish and smart, like the wholesome guys all the good girls had crushes on in high school. Not geeky enough to be a nerd, not nerdy enough to be a geek.

  Those girls should have spoken up when they had the chance. I, for one, was happy to take him down the street to Moonbeans, the Little Five Points equivalent of Starbucks.

  “Interesting neighborhood.”

  It was nearly midnight, but Little Five Points nightlife was just getting started. Reggae music spilled from the open doorway of Hey Mon’s, warring with the screech of punk rock across the street at The Crypt. Winos leaned against the psychedelic murals on the buildings, shaking down passing preppy couples for spare change.

  “You’ve never been down here before?”

  Joe shook his head, taking it all in.

  “‘Little Five’ is an Atlanta institution. Old hippies come here to die, like an elephant’s graveyard.” I was joking, of course, at least about the dying part. “It’s part time-capsule, part brave new world.” A guy with spiked hair and a nose ring walked by with a girl in “glam gear”?bright pink eyelashes matching the lacquered beehive wig?proving my point.

  “I haven’t had much time to explore since I moved here three years ago,” Joe said. “I had my residency to worry about, then work took over.”

  “You should see it in the daytime. Major tourist trap and local hangout all in one, but it has real character, too. That’s why I opened my place here?lots of traffic and plenty of open-minded people.”

  “Your place?”

  I stopped on the sidewalk, weighing my options. Coffee and Danish or a deeper glimpse into my personal life? I gave him a grin. “Next block over. Wanna see?”

  “That depends.” He gave me a wicked grin in return. “It’s not an S&M dungeon, is it?”

  My whoop of laughter caused heads to turn, but I didn’t care. “You wish.” I reached out and slapped him playfully on that cute behind. He barely flinched, grinning even more broadly. “It’s a perfectly acceptable vintage clothing store. Instruments of torture not allowed.”

  He gave a skeptical snort. “Uh-huh.”

  “Why, Joe”?I leaned in and took him by the arm? “that sounds like a challenge.”

  The wail of a siren cut off his reply. A fire truck rounded a corner and pushed its way down the street, lights flashing and horn blowing as pedestrians scattered. Little Five Points was a rabbit warren, narrow streets and sharp corners. The driver of the truck had to do some maneuvering to make the next turn. The noise was ear-splitting, but that wasn’t what brought the hair up on the back of my neck.

  “That road’s a dead end. They’re heading toward my shop.”

  I took off at a run as the rear of the truck disappeared around the corner. Dodging people already headed the same way, it took me longer than I’d like to make it to the end of the block, and by the time I got there the EMTs were already huddled over someone on the ground across the street. A knot of people blocked the front steps of Indigo, a Jamaican grocery. The local cops were holding off curious onlookers and breaking out the crime scene tape.

  “I’ll go see if I can help the paramedics.” Joe edged past me as I came to a halt in front of Evan’s gorgeously decorated display window. Indigo was owned by my friend Caprice and her boyfriend, Mojo. They closed at ten, and I was glad to see the lights were off and the front door was shut. At least it didn’t appear to be a robbery.

  “Doesn’t look too good, does it?”

  “Caprice! Where’d you come from, girl? What’s going on?” I craned my n
eck, watching Joe as he talked his way past the cops and over to the EMTs. One of them shook his head at Joe, then stood up and started talking to him. The other paramedic, a woman with a short ponytail, flipped a sheet over the body on the ground.

  A cold chill went down my spine. Somebody had done that to me not too long ago.

  Caprice didn’t answer. Like me and everyone else, she was watching the drama taking place with morbid fascination. The rhythmic red flash from the top of the fire truck caught the side of her face and the beads woven into her dreadlocks, turning them various shades of pink and crimson, casting a garish tint over the tropical print of her blouse.

  A man’s shout came from the other side of one of the police cars, followed by what looked like a struggle.

  “I didn’t do it! I didn’t do nothin’, I said! This ain’t right!” Cops swarmed like ants over a guy who obviously wasn’t taking their directions too well. “This ain’t right!” Within a few seconds, the guy was on the ground and handcuffed, then hauled to his feet and hustled toward the open door of a cruiser. I saw his face.

  “Mo! Caprice, it’s Mojo! What the hell is going on?”

  But Caprice was gone, and in her place was a red-faced frat boy. His beer breath was way too close to my face, and I elbowed him away. The crowd was getting bigger.

  Joe was walking back across the street, working his way toward me. He shook his head as he got close.

  “Too late,” he murmured in my ear. Taking my arm, he pulled me back into the doorway of the shop, obviously not wanting to broadcast his news to the avid crowd. “But at least they got the guy who did it.”

  “Did what? To who?” I was so upset I didn’t wait for his answer. “I know that guy?he owns the grocery store?Mo wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Well, somebody did.” Joe looked uncomfortable. “Did you…did you know his girlfriend?”

  “Of course I know his girlfriend?I was just talking to her. Her name’s Caprice.”

  Joe was looking at me strangely, and then it dawned on me that he’d used the past tense. Nausea churned, bringing a bitter taste to the back of my throat. “She was just here,” I added weakly.

  Then I threw up all over his shoes.

  “Stop fussing over me.”

  I fished for my keys, glad to be home, and glad for the umpteenth time my dad had put the front porch light on a timer when I was a kid.

  “I’m a doctor. It’s what I do.” Joe kept his tone matter-of-fact. “Now be a good girl and let me help you into bed.”

  I groaned, more embarrassed than anything. “Why didn’t you say that a couple of hours ago, huh? Then none of this would have happened.”

  “I don’t know about that. Even great sex won’t fix too much beer on an empty stomach.”

  I flashed him a look, because I’d only had two beers. “That wasn’t it.”

  Joe gave me a rueful glance and looked down at his shoes. “I beg to differ. These sneakers could easily be arrested for drunk driving.”

  I couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Oh, well. At least you admit it would’ve been great.”

  At least I wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking about sex.

  Only I wasn’t thinking about it now.

  “I didn’t get sick because I drank too much. It was something else.” I unlocked the door, flipped a light switch and stepped inside, making way for him to follow. My hands were still shaking.

  “Home, sweet home.”

  The place was a hodgepodge, slightly messy but?I liked to think?charming in its messiness. It was the same house I’d grown up in, but it was mine now, and my parents would have wanted it that way. Out was the floral wallpaper and beige carpet, in were hardwood floors and rose-colored walls. Crisp white trim at the baseboards and ceiling was Evan’s touch. My sofa, a well-worn velvet I’d found at a garage sale, had fashion magazines and swatches of fabric scattered over the burgundy cushions. The coffee table had more of the same, plus a lipstick-stained cup and a half-eaten bagel. I was particularly attached to the artwork above the couch?a charcoal sketch of a reclining nude, feminine back and buttocks drawn in broad, sweeping strokes.

  “Can I get you something?” I wrinkled my nose as I took in Joe’s stained shoes and splattered jeans. “A bed pan, maybe?”

  Joe grinned. “Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He hesitated. “You seem a little shaky.”

  Bravado fled and tears welled. I tossed my purse on the couch and slumped down beside it, covering my face with one hand. “I just can’t believe it. Are you sure the cops said her name was Caprice Dumaine?” My black eyeliner was smeared. I swiped at it with a knuckle, making it worse. “What did she look like?”

  He took a seat on the couch next to me. “Mid-thirties, black, slightly plump. Beads in her hair?wearing jeans and one of those tropical shirts you’d find at the beach resorts. Green and blue, I think.”

  I closed my eyes and moaned. That was Caprice.

  Joe moved in closer, sliding an arm around me. My shoulder found a home against his rib cage.

  “Caprice was my friend.” My voice was muffled against his chest. “I’ve known her for six years, ever since Evan and I opened the shop.” And I was sure I’d seen her, spoken to her, there on the sidewalk. Tonight. “She’s really dead?” I’d almost hoped for a bad dream instead, one that could still be made right. “I have to call Evan.”

  “I’m sorry, Nicki.” For just a second Joe rested a cheek on the top of my head.

  I pulled away and looked at him. “How’d she die?”

  He hesitated. “Broken neck. Looked like she’d taken a blow to the head, too?but that could have happened in the fall. They won’t know for sure until after the?” The look of horror on my face stopped him mid-sentence.

  “Autopsy,” I finished. “Oh, man.” I buried my face in my hands.

  Joe settled deeper into the sofa and pulled me against him. I came willingly, trying to get that image out of my head. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I knew he was just offering comfort, but he smelled like cherries and chocolate, a melt-in-your-mouth scent that made me all too aware of him as a man.

  “There’s something else, Joe.”

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I think something’s happened to me since I was in the hospital.” I sat up, hand on his thigh. I knew a little distance might be a good thing, but I couldn’t bring myself to budge any further. “Maybe you can help me figure it out.”

  His thigh muscle flexed, warm and strong through his jeans.

  “Ever since the near death experience, I’ve been seeing things.”

  “You’re having more hallucinations? Why didn’t you tell me?” Joe’s medical training kicked in as he straightened, moving up on the couch, and dislodging my hand in the process. “Headaches?” He touched my chin and looked in my eyes. “Blurred vision? Flashes of light?”

  I shook my head, pulling my chin from his grasp.

  “People who died.” I kept looking him in the eye. “Two of them now.”

  He didn’t want me to see how skeptical he was, but I knew. He’d already tried to explain Irene Goldblatt away through the power of suggestion and post-traumatic stress, but this…

  “You saw your friend Caprice tonight?after she died?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t know she was dead at the time.”

  “Nicki, do you realize what you’re saying?” Joe took my hand, voice gentle. “It’s not possible. You can’t see the dead, or talk to them.”

  “Explain that to them, would you?” He was being so sweet to me, I couldn’t get mad. The guy had a right to be skeptical. Besides, his hand was warm, his fingers strong.

  “What happened? Tell me.”

  “It was Caprice. I know it was. She was standing right next to me while you were talking to the paramedics.” I wanted Joe to believe me, but for now it was enough that he still held my hand.

  He hesitated, and suddenly I wanted to kick myself. What was I doing? Tr
ying to convince the cutest guy I’d dated in months that I was crazy? Here I was going on about ghosts when there were better things we could be doing?throwing myself a pity party wasn’t at all how I’d hoped to end the evening.

  Joe stared into my eyes, a faint crease of worry between his brows, then stood. “I’m ordering some tests tomorrow.” The doctor side of him was obviously used to giving orders.

  Problem was, I didn’t tend to take them very well.

  I looked up at him, knowing my mascara was smeared and my hair was a mess.

  God, he was sexy.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “It could be a lingering reaction to medication. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve got a bad heart valve, remember?”

  I smiled a little at that, cocking my head to one side.

  “There you go with the doctor stuff again.” It was sweet, really, except we were way past the usual doctor-patient thing. I might have a heart defect, but I wasn’t blind. “Tell me, Dr. B, do you get a stiffie for all your heart patients?”

  I reached out and cupped him there, and for a moment time stood still.

  “Don’t.” He ground out the one word, stepping back even though he didn’t seem to want to.

  “Why not?” I murmured, a wicked gleam in my eye. I left my hand where it was, inches from his straining zipper.

  “I’m married.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “Married.”

  Why was I so shocked? Great-looking guy, successful career…I snatched my hand away from Joe’s pants and jumped to my feet. “Get the hell out.”

  “Wait, Nicki?it’s not like that.”

  I was halfway to the door, snapping at him over my shoulder, “Then what’s it like, huh? What wifey doesn’t know won’t hurt her, or wifey doesn’t care if you cheat as long as you use protection?” Now my blood was boiling. “Either way, I’m not interested. I’m no home wrecker, and I don’t do sloppy seconds.”