The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3

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The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 Page 15

by Paula Lester


  The elder reaper checked that no one nearby was listening and then said, “Just that it wasn’t planned. There was no order for it and no reaper ready for his soul. But April isn’t discussing it with anyone. It’s an off-limits topic, I guess.”

  Gloria frowned.

  Just then, April tapped the microphone at the front of the room to check if it was on. Everyone settled in and quieted down. The district supervisor looked much like she had when Tessa met her back in Michigan—she wore a different gray suit that matched her hair. Tessa wondered if she had them specially made. Did April have to send in a snippet of her hair to get the fabric dyed the exact right shade? Like taking in a sample of something to get some paint made to match?

  “Welcome, everyone. Thank you for taking your reaper career seriously and being here to learn and grow.” April beamed at the crowd. A smattering of clapping died out fast when only a few joined in. She didn’t seem to care and continued promoting the merits of the conference and the reaper profession in general. Near the end of the speech, almost as though it were an afterthought, she gestured toward a man in the front row and introduced him as Lee Stuart, the supervisor for the western district.

  Once the keynote speech was over—and Tessa had learned that Gloria really wasn’t kidding about the nature of April’s talks—Tessa and Gloria studied the schedules they’d been given at check-in. There were multiple presentations going on at the same times all day, so they’d have to pick and choose which to attend.

  As much as Tessa wanted to stay close to Gloria so she’d have someone she knew nearby, it quickly became apparent that they should split up to get the most out of the conference.

  Gloria wanted to attend talks like The Most Incredible Reapers in History and Reap the Benefits of Your Job: IRA Strategies for Reapers. But Tessa knew she should attend the more basic talks like How to Stay in the Shadows and Fifteen Ways to Handle a Reluctant Reap.

  “You’ll be fine,” Gloria encouraged her. “I’ll meet up with you at lunchtime. We can attend the last talk of the day together.” She gave a little wave and hurried off to catch up with another reaper she’d spotted.

  Tessa consulted her schedule again and then headed to room 101 for the talk about staying in the shadows. Sticking with the theme of the talk, she chose a seat at the back of the room and watched other reapers file in. She recognized Cynthia, the reaper from Chicago, who slumped into a chair near the door, looking as miserable as she had back in the airport bar.

  The speaker was Bubba from Seattle, and he couldn’t have a more polar opposite presentation style from April. He was as much a hoot as Gloria had made him out to be. In fact, by the end of the talk, Tessa was a hundred percent sure that the man was horrible at blending into the shadows, reaper or not. He seemed to love being the center of attention.

  As everyone herded toward the door after the talk, Tessa gathered her things as quickly as possible, intending to catch Cynthia. She wanted to see if she could get any information out of the other reaper about the allocation problem Timothy had narrowed down to the Chicago office.

  Cynthia had disappeared by the time Tessa left the room. She was nowhere to be seen in the hallway. Apparently, the woman knew how to move in the shadows better than Bubba.

  Maybe she should give the talk next year.

  Someone brushed against her, and Tessa mumbled, “Ope, sorry about that,” in true midwestern fashion as she turned to look at the person who’d bumped her.

  It was a man, about a foot taller than Tessa. His hair was so black it looked like it had been dipped in ink. In fact, it shone so much it appeared to be wet, flowing. It fell to his shoulders with just enough waviness to be interesting. He was dressed all in black, too, with dress pants and a polo shirt that looked high-end, tailored to fit his body in exactly the way that would best show off his long, lithe, runner’s muscles.

  Tessa brought her eyes up to meet his and had to stifle a gasp. His irises were the palest of blue, and for a second, Tessa could swear they were pulsing. It was jarring. Inhuman, somehow. He smiled, and it looked more predatory than friendly.

  She took a step back.

  He smiled wider. “Greetings, Theresa Randolph.” He glanced over her shoulder at the room she’d just exited. “Did you learn to stay shadowed?”

  “Oh. Um. Yes. Lots to think about from that talk. I . . . um.” Why was she stammering like a schoolchild? Tessa forced herself to straighten and meet his eyes again. Wait—how did he know her name? “I’m sorry. I missed your name. Did we meet before?”

  “I make it a point to learn the names of all the new reapers. But I don’t want to make you late for the next presentation. You have a lot to learn.” With that, he turned and stalked away. Without really noticing him, people skittered out of his way as he walked, leaving the middle of the hallway clear for the strange, tall man. It reminded Tessa of mice scattering before a cat.

  She shook her head to clear it and checked the schedule to see where to go next. It took longer to shake off the strange cool feeling the man had left behind.

  The rest of the day went by in a pleasant blur. Tessa and Gloria met up for lunch, which was a lovely all-you-can-eat buffet. Gloria introduced Tessa to more people. During the afternoon sessions, Tessa recognized more of the folks in the rooms than she didn’t. She was starting to get her sea-legs, so to speak—feeling more comfortable in the reaper community.

  Before she knew it, the time had come for the last talk of the day: Accountable Accounting in Reaping. Wow. Just the title alone sounded boring. And since the talk was being given by April, Tessa knew it would be hard to sit through without falling asleep. She opted for a late afternoon cup of coffee. It was cold and stale.

  There were no other presentations at the same time, and the main conference room they’d started in that morning filled up with people again. This time, Gloria and Tessa sat near the front, sitting close to Lee Stuart.

  Frantic movement caught her attention, and Tessa leaned forward to find Timothy a few seats down, smiling and waving to her. There was a big brown stain on the left breast pocket of his ill-fitting gray suit. “Hello, again.”

  Tessa smiled and waved back.

  “I hope you’re having a good time. For me, it’s all work, work, work.”

  “It’s been interesting so far.”

  He nodded energetically, before April tapped the microphone and began speaking, silencing the whole of the crowd. Timothy looked disappointed.

  April started her talk by expressing her hope that everyone had enjoyed a day filled with learning and fun. “To close out the first day, we’re going to talk about accounting in the reaper business. It’s crucial that we be impeccable with our record-keeping.” She shuffled papers on the lectern in front of her and then adjusted the microphone. “If the numbers aren’t right, your branch may incur tremendous costs in hunting down the problem and making it right.” She looked out into the crowd, pinning someone with her gaze. Tessa craned her neck to see who.

  It was Cynthia. The reaper from Chicago shrank in her chair as though trying to sink through the floor into oblivion as dozens of eyes landed on her.

  Tessa felt sorry for the poor woman and made a mental note to invite her to dinner or something during the next few days of the conference time. It really seemed like she could use a friend or two.

  April continued, showing slides that explained how reaper accounting was managed. Each agency got its assignments and did the associated reaping. If the two numbers didn’t match at the end of the month, there was a problem. It could happen either way—not enough souls were reaped as there were orders or more reaping had been done than was ordered.

  Sometimes, it was a matter of lazy reporting, and the matter was easily reckoned. Other times, it wasn’t so simple. If an agency’s manager couldn’t find and reconcile the discrepancy within one month, the area’s supervisor was called in. After that, the district supervisor got involved. Eventually, the owner of the entire organization had to be con
sulted.

  “And no one wants that,” April assured everyone in the room. “Mr. Blade has more than enough to occupy his time without such nonsense.”

  Tessa wondered about the owner. She made a mental note to question Gloria about him.

  April continued, droning on about accounting and staying accountable by maintaining impeccable records. “We all know the reaping is the exciting part and the paperwork is drudgery, but without it, our whole system falls apart. Some of you may think of this as just a job. But as far as I’m aware, ours is the only job with the fate of the universe at stake. All of this—” she gestured to the room, to the word outside— “would be destroyed if we truly lose a soul long-term. I hope that explains how important accounting is.”

  Tessa’s hand shot into the air, surprising her. She hadn’t meant to ask a question, but her arm seemed to have a mind of its own.

  April cast a cool stare at her and seemed to consider ignoring Tessa. But she sighed and said, “Yes?”

  “What happens if someone dies whose death wasn’t ordered? How is it investigated and reconciled?” She was proud that her voice didn’t quaver. There was no hint of the trepidation she felt in her chest at speaking out in front of all those people.

  “We have folks within our organization whose sole job it is to research those deaths and bring the accounting in-line,” April said flatly before turning back to point at the screen. “Now let’s talk about . . .”

  But Tessa cut her off, shocking herself further. Loud and clear, she said, “What about Art’s death? Was his accounted for?”

  Chapter 7

  SLOWLY, APRIL TURNED around. A muscle in her jaw twitched as though she were clenching her teeth.

  Tessa sat straighter, refusing to be intimidated.

  Gloria gave a snort that sounded like a cross between awe and amusement.

  “If you must know,” April said, “it was not accounted for.” Had her eyes been equipped with lasers, Tessa’s forehead would have a rather large hole through it. The look was obviously meant to shut down any further conversation.

  Though she itched to ask more follow-up questions, Tessa heeded Gloria’s warning elbow jab and clamped her lips together. But April’s answer had started a murmuring among the reapers in the room. The supervisor’s gaze flitted around, and she held up a hand. “Please, everyone. There’s nothing to be concerned about. We already narrowed in on the problem, and we’ll have it straightened out soon. Now. If we could continue my talk . . .”

  April went back to her presentation, clicking through slides and reading them verbatim off the screen. She’d lost her audience and her spirit. She ended rather abruptly a few minutes later and didn’t take any further questions, despite the last slide being labeled for Q & A. She stormed out of the room with Timothy trailing behind.

  “I can’t believe you did that.” Gloria shook her head and giggled. “April looked fit to be tied.”

  “I just don’t understand why she’s hush-hush about Art’s death. I mean, there are so many reapers here right now. Death is our business. And if one of our own goes unexpectedly . . . well, it’s a problem.”

  “I agree with you there.”

  “Surely, someone knows something about what happened or could help figure it out. I mean, if accounting is so important, why would April want to keep it a secret?”

  Gloria shrugged. “Probably to try and prevent Lee Stuart from finding out about it. The two of them have a competitive working relationship. Actually, the competitiveness leaks into their personal lives too. They’re like ex-spouses. Makes me wonder if they dated a long time ago.”

  “Must’ve been a bad break-up.” Tessa smiled. She grabbed her stuff and followed Gloria out of the conference room.

  “Let’s drop our things in the room and then get a drink,” Gloria suggested.

  “Sounds good to me.” Actually, Tessa had a long list of things she should be doing instead. She could avail herself of the hotel’s fitness room. She’d been sitting all day, and her muscles were screaming for some blood-pumping action. But that could wait for tomorrow, when she planned to get up earlier and work out before the presentations started—especially if she wanted Danishes and donut holes for breakfast. Her tummy gurgled at the thought.

  And that was another reason a drink was a bad idea. She hadn’t had any dinner. Then there was Silas. What was he up to today? Should she try to me up with him?

  The first thing Tessa did in the hotel room was check her phone. She’d left it behind so she wouldn’t be distracted by it during the conference. She texted Silas, just a quick check-in to see if he’d a good day, then checked her messages.

  There was a voicemail from Abi. “Your cat is a menace. I left my sweatshirt in your apartment last night, and she shredded it. Now she’s laying on it and won’t let me near her. Don’t ever ask me to watch her again. She’s evil. Bring an exorcist and a bottle of wine when you come back.”

  Tessa rolled her eyes and made a mental note to buy Abi a replacement sweatshirt in the airport gift shop on the way home. That and a bottle of Pinot Noir should butter her up and make her forget the tortie’s bad manners.

  Just as Tessa was setting the phone back on the nightstand, it rang, startling her. She glanced at the screen and groaned. She thought about ignoring the call, but it would never work. Cheryl would find some way to get in contact with her. She might even call the hotel bar. How embarrassing would that be?

  Reluctantly, Tessa slid her finger over the screen and put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mom!” She made her voice as cheerful as possible in hopes of setting the tone for the call.

  “Are you learning anything?” Cheryl’s tone took over. All business.

  “Oh, yeah. Loads. I can totally stay in the shadows with the best of ‘em now.” Tessa carried the phone across the room so she could look in the mirror while she talked.

  “Good. Make sure you use those newfound skills during the rest of the conference. April isn’t in the mood to have anything go wrong.” Cheryl paused. “You’re not rocking the boat there, are you?”

  “Boat? What boat? I haven’t seen a boat. We’ve been stuck at the hotel.” Tessa scrunched her hair, trying to give it more bounce. It looked limp and lifeless. The water at the hotel was softer than at home. She really should have packed her root booster.

  “I sent you there to learn, Theresa. Not play in Miami.”

  “You know, if they wanted to stick us somewhere to learn, Michigan would’ve been the perfect place.”

  “I can tell by your tone that you are rocking the boat!”

  “Mom! I don’t know anything about a boat. Things are going smoothly. You know, except for the dead reaper on the plane.”

  “Yes, well, I heard about that. Unfortunate situation. But it’s none of your business, so stay out of it.” Cheryl’s tone didn’t allow for any argument, so Tessa didn’t make one. She bit her tongue and leaned forward to check her complexion more closely. Her hair might not be doing well, but her skin seemed to love the extra humidity in Florida. Maybe she should spend some time with her head over a humidifier every day back home.

  “Theresa!”

  Tessa jumped. She’d been so busy thinking about her beauty regimen she must have missed something important her mother said. “What?”

  “I asked whether you’re taking notes. I’d like you to do a presentation on everything you learned when you get back.”

  “A presentation? Why? Don’t you know all this stuff already?” She crossed to sit on the bed. Gloria had disappeared into the bathroom after shooting Tessa a sympathetic look.

  “Of course I do. I want to see what you are learning. If you write it down, you’re more likely to remember it. And if you teach it—it’s even more likely to sink in. Plus, it’d be great for the whole office.”

  “I’ll remember,” Tessa said. “It’s not rocket science. It’s stuff like, ‘Wear dark clothes when you go to an assignment, so you’re less likely to stand out and be noticed.’
I think I can grok that, Mom.” She was ready to get off the phone and completely regretted ever answering.

  “Fine. But take notes anyway. And be prepared for your presentation next Monday. What about the other reapers? Are you making friends? I hope you aren’t being awkward, Theresa.” Cheryl sounded a bit anxious, like it was too much to hope that Tessa could be cool.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I can handle the rare social interaction with a co-worker. I’m not that ridiculous.” Tessa felt herself pouting like a kid and forced herself to stop. In high school, her mother never liked her friends. She preferred to think Tessa didn’t have any. “You know I have friends, Mom. I know how to behave.”

  “Sure you do, dear. It’s just a little reminder.” She paused. “What are you up to tonight?”

  “Gloria and I are going down to have a drink in a few minutes.”

  “Don’t overdo it! You know how you get when you drink too much.” Cheryl made a tsk noise.

  Tessa didn’t have any idea what her mother meant, but she was beyond ready for the conversation to be over, so she said, “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be careful. Bye!”

  “Goodbye. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Great. Tessa knocked on the bathroom door. “I need that drink ten minutes ago.”

  Gloria came out wearing a knee-length, hot pink sundress. “Ready!”

  “Wait. I can’t go with you looking like that and me looking like this.” Tessa glanced down at her business casual clothes. “Let me change.”

  Gloria shrugged. “Go for it. I’m not the one in a hurry.” She plopped onto her bed and began to scroll on her phone.

  Tessa changed quickly. Her sundress was less flashy but still pretty—butter yellow with cream lace fringe. Gloria nodded approvingly when she saw it.

  They headed downstairs and made their way across the lobby into the hotel bar, which already contained a fair number of reapers. Many of them still wore the clothes they’d had on during the day’s presentations, and Tessa wondered if they shouldn’t have changed.

 

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