by Paula Lester
But she didn’t feel like arguing with her mother, so she opened her carry-on and started re-organizing what had become a rumpled mess of clothes. While doing so, Cheryl bobbed in and out of her periphery. “So, that was exciting this morning—the task force arresting Timothy. How did you decide he was behind the unallocated deaths?”
Cheryl popped the top on her lipstick tube and turned away from the mirror. “Oh, you know. Investigative skills—blah, blah. Nothing too exciting, dear.”
Tessa pursed her lips for a second and then blew out a breath. “Okay. As long as you didn’t arrest him based on what I said last night . . .”
“Hmm?” Cheryl was rummaging in her suitcase, and she cast a glance over her shoulder at Tessa. “Of course not. We did our own thorough examination of the records and interviewed people here at the conference.”
“Did you interview April?” Tessa wondered. Ever since Timothy had been taken away in magical handcuffs, Tessa hadn’t been able to concentrate on the conference. Her thoughts had been wrapped up in the murder investigation. Well, the same could be said about the whole conference—since Art’s death.
It still seemed like a mystery. And she couldn’t shrug off the idea that they’d gotten the wrong man. In fact, her suspicions had shifted toward April. The woman wasn’t very nice. In some ways, she reminded Tessa of Cheryl.
And April had an ongoing competition with Lee Stuart. Maybe she’d been the one to mess with the allocations. Or perhaps she’d strong-armed Timothy into doing it. That actually made more sense, since Timothy was the brains of the operation—or at least of the accounting. April had said it herself, she couldn’t even log into the system. And with the way April treated him, it was unlikely he’d be able to resist her orders.
A new thought occurred to Tessa. Maybe that was why Timothy had looked so pale on the dock when Cynthia was killed. Perhaps he’d felt guilty for following April’s orders.
Cheryl hummed as she buzzed around the room picking things up to pack. She’d only been there one night. Yet, she’d unpacked and now repacked like she was there for the week.
Tessa eyed her, wondering how to approach the subject. Finally, she cleared her throat. “What will happen to Timothy now? Federal court martial?”
“Oh, he’ll get a fair trial.” Cheryl’s tone was vague. “But it will be Mr. Blade who ultimately decides what to do with him.”
Mr. Blade! Of course.
“When will that happen? And where?” Tessa bit her lip. Maybe she could speak to Mr. Blade in time. “Will it be here in Miami?”
Cheryl shrugged. “That’s not my area. The task force will hold Timothy safely until we receive further instructions.”
“Hold him? Hold him where?”
Cheryl’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “What are you up to, Theresa?” She crossed to pick up her phone from the nightstand.
Tessa held up her hands placatingly. “Nothing. Why would you think I’m up to something? I’m just curious. Is Timothy in some kind of government facility? Miami jail? Reaper prison? Inquiring minds want to know these things.”
Cheryl sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling on her phone. She seemed distracted. “He’s here in the hotel. You know that group from Albuquerque with the stomach bug left early, so the sixth floor is mostly empty. We secured a room there. The task force members are taking turns guarding him until someone from the main office comes and gets him. They’re traveling here from D.C.”
“Ah. Well, I’m glad that’s over with.” Tessa pulled out a swimsuit and closed her suitcase. “I think I’ll go hang out at the pool one last time.”
Cheryl’s attention was still on her phone. “Have fun, dear.”
Tessa changed, slipping a cover-up over her suit, and got out of there fast, before her mother’s distraction ended and she re-focused on her daughter.
As Tessa headed toward the pool, she kept her eyes peeled for Mr. Blade. She remembered how Silas hadn’t seemed to see Blade before. Was that because Silas wasn’t a reaper?
But no. When Tessa first met Blade in the hallway outside the conference room, other reapers had scattered out of his way but hadn’t looked directly at him. It was as though they’d sensed his presence in a way but couldn’t actually see him.
Tessa thought it was possible—maybe even likely—that Corwin Blade was only visible to people when he wanted to be. So, looking for him could be entirely a waste of time. If he didn’t want Tessa to find him, she may walk right past without even knowing he was there.
Still, she scanned the area for his tall, dark frame. At the pool, she pulled out her purple sunglasses, popped them on, and looked around.
No Corwin Blade, aka the Grim Reaper himself.
She found a chair and sat, not leaning back, and tried to put out vibes that she wanted to talk to Blade. Maybe she could will him to appear? Or maybe he could feel when a reaper reached out for him?
That reminded her of what he’d told her. Something about the Scythe.
But surely, Blade could just sort of . . . know . . . whether Timothy was telling the truth about the allocations? After all, he was the original version, right? Every reaper was doing a tiny bit of what was really, ultimately, Blade’s job. They’d been given some of his abilities, somehow. So, Blade would know whether the numbers were messed up and who was responsible.
Tessa sat for an hour, mulling over the situation and watching for Mr. Blade, who never arrived.
When her phone buzzed, she pulled it out with a sigh, resigned that he wasn’t going to show up just because she’d tried to summon him.
Silas had texted: One last vacation sunset. Want to come?
A smile leapt to her lips, and she texted back Yes without really giving it much thought.
But I have to change.
Cool. I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.
Tessa was glad to find her hotel room empty. Cheryl must have gone downstairs. Or maybe she was taking her turn guarding Timothy. Wherever she was, Tessa was happy to change her clothes in peace and leave without having to explain to her mother where she was going.
Silas was right on time, as usual, and he gave her a warm, tight hug. Tessa relaxed in his arms.
Should she be doing this? Was it unfair to Silas to hang out with him when she was pretty sure they’d need to put an end to the budding relationship? He seemed to be over the weirdness of the night before—the lie that she’d told him.
She pushed away the doubts that tried to niggle their way between her and Silas. She was determined to live in the moment as much as possible for one more evening.
“Last chance to visit the empanada truck,” Silas suggested as they went outside.
She shook her head. “Sounds amazing, but we have our awards dinner tonight. Gloria said they really do it up with some great food.” She patted her stomach. “I’d better save my calories.”
Silas chuckled and grabbed her hand as they got to the boardwalk. “Well, if I have to have you back at a certain time, I’d better take advantage of every minute.” He glanced at her. “You know, I’ve had a great time hanging out with you.”
“Yeah.” She returned his smile and squeezed his hand. “Me too. It’s been a blast.”
“Thanks for suggesting it. And talking me into it. It’s been . . . nice . . . to have some time off to just relax for a few days.” He breathed deeply and looked out at the ocean. “This was just what I didn’t know I needed.”
Tessa nodded. “You should do it regularly. You know, at least once a year. I mean, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but there are people who actually take time off work for leisure activities sometimes.”
Silas scoffed. “Blasphemy!”
They both dissolved into giggles.
They didn’t walk too far since Tessa was on a time constraint, but the conversation was easy. Tessa didn’t think about Timothy or Mr. Blade. She was in the moment as they watched the sunset together, carrying their sandals so their toes could sink into the sand.
&nbs
p; Back in front of the hotel, Tessa faced Silas. “I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow, I guess.” She felt bummed that vacation time was almost over.
But did it have to be? They were going back to the same place, after all. The same building, in fact. Tessa and Silas would see each other every day, like they had since Tessa moved into Mist River Manor.
Maybe this didn’t have to be the end of their budding romance—because Tessa had to admit to herself now that’s what it was. She had feelings for Silas, for sure, and he’d given off all the signals that it was reciprocal.
He leaned forward, brushing her cheek with his fingers. “Right,” he said softly, “I’ll see you at the airport.”
His lips brushed hers lightly, just for an instant, and then he winked and walked into the gathering darkness.
It had happened so fast Tessa could almost convince herself it had been in her imagination. Except it hadn’t. Silas had kissed her.
And it had been wonderful. A little short. But wonderful.
A smile played on her lips as she touched the spot where his had brushed them.
But as Tessa entered the hotel and saw a crowd of reapers passing through the lobby toward the conference room, Tessa’s elation abruptly soured. She’d almost forgotten.
How could she have a romantic relationship with Silas? Either she’d have to lie to him about her job, which was bound to end in feelings of betrayal at some point, or tell him about it, which could be dangerous for her and the other reapers.
No. As much as she didn’t want to, Tessa was going to have to find a way to break things off with Silas. For both of their sakes.
Chapter 18
“YOU LOOK LIKE SOMEBODY stole your puppy and replaced it with a big sack of stinky trash,” Gloria said.
Tessa laughed. “That’s . . . a strangely detailed and odd scenario.”
Gloria shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth. That’s exactly the face I’d expect you to make if such a thing happened. It didn’t happen, did it?”
“No!” Tessa laughed again.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She sank into a chair in the conference room.
“Definitely not a nothing face.” Gloria tipped her head, examining Tessa closer. “That’s a something expression if I ever saw one. Did you have a fight with your hottie landlord?”
“No!”
“But the face is about hottie landlord, isn’t it? I have a knack for these kinds of things.”
“Being nosey?” Tessa frowned and sank deeper into the chair. “Okay . . . maybe.”
Gloria simply continued to stare expectantly at her.
“Fine,” Tessa huffed. “I’m going to tell him we can’t be together when we get home. I don’t want to do it. But it’s better for everyone if I do it now instead of letting it drag out until I hurt his feelings even worse.”
“How would you do that?”
“By continuing to lie to him every day about what I do.”
Gloria’s chest rose and fell as she sighed deeply. “You’re a slow learner, you know that?”
Tessa scowled at her friend. “Am not.”
“Are too.” Gloria looked like she was going to say more, but someone tapped on the microphone, drawing their attention.
It was Cheryl.
“Am not,” Tessa added triumphantly. She perked up, sitting straighter, wondering why her mother was speaking.
With a huge smile that made her look a tiny bit like a Mr. Ed, Cheryl lifted her hands wide and cooed into the microphone, “Thank you all for being here. Both tonight and at the conference in general. What a year. And that’s what we’re here to celebrate. Not the conference, but the year of reaping.”
Everyone cheered and clapped.
“But, as with all lovely things, this one is at an end. It’s time for us to celebrate the camaraderie we’ve had and the things we’ve learned.” She clasped her hands together and grinned like she’d just watched her offspring graduate from law school. She’d made no secret of the fact she wanted Tessa to be a high-powered lawyer. Nor had she hid her disappointment when Tessa announced that she had no intention of doing any such thing.
Cheryl continued, “I’m so proud of this community and everything we do. To that end, it’s time for our annual awards ceremony.”
The excitement was palpable in the room. Tessa realized this was a big deal for the reapers.
“Most of you know how we like to do these things. We start off a little silly—a little reminiscent of the high school yearbook. These were added when Lee was in charge of the awards.”
“They’re based off The Office, not the high school yearbook,” he called out.
Cheryl rolled her eyes. “First, we have an award for the best-dressed reaper. Now, I’d like to remind you that these awards are decided on by committee, not by me.” Cheryl placed a hand on her chest. “So, I am not the one to blame if you weren’t chosen! Remember, you have a whole year to plan a better wardrobe to try and win next year.”
Everyone laughed.
Tessa was amazed. Cheryl was gracious and funny. Everyone was engaged and enjoying themselves with her at the mic. How had that even happened? Cheryl wasn’t scheduled to be at the conference. This must be an impromptu thing for her.
Was Timothy supposed to emcee the award ceremony?
But Cheryl was opening an envelope, so Tessa had to pay attention. The room fell silent as she read a sheet inside and smiled. “Well. I will have to accept this award on behalf of the recipient, who is otherwise occupied at this time.” She held up the slip of paper. “The winner is Bubba!”
Everyone clapped and cheered.
Cheryl held up a hand. “I would like to interject here that, as deserving as Bubba is of this award, we all know he’d give it up in a heartbeat to the reaper who truly dressed like no one else and won this award six times in past years—Art. We will all miss him.”
Applause rang through the room. Cheryl let it die down naturally before she continued. “The next award is for longest serving reaper.” She opened the envelope and then scanned the crowd as she announced, “Shirley!”
Shirley made her way to the front to accept a small plaque amid whistles and cheers. She said a quiet thank you into the microphone before heading back to her seat.
“Another of Lee’s additions. Next up is our award for most likely to be late for a reap.” Cheryl opened the envelope and Tessa held her breath. How embarrassing would it be if her name was on there?
But when Cheryl looked up, she announced, “The winner is Colton.”
A reaper Tessa had only met in passing went up to get his plaque, red-faced as everyone jeered at him from the crowd. Tessa blew out a relieved breath and vowed to make it to all of her future reaps on time. She never wanted to be given that award at the yearly conference.
“And next we have the rookie of the year award. This one truly is a honor to hand out. I know I still have mine sitting proudly on a bookshelf beside my desk. Gloria has hers. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m hoping to see three of these around the office.” Now Tessa squirmed with fervor. Her mother would probably embarrass her on stage. She opened the envelope and sighed. “Lydia.”
Lydia, not quite as red-faced as Colton, took her prize.
“And finally,” Cheryl said, “the most talked-about and competed-for award for the district supervisor whose district had the greatest number of allotments this year.” Cheryl opened the envelope, expression pleasantly tense as she read. Then she smiled. “The winner this year is Lee Stuart, by only three allocations.”
Shouts and boos went up from western and eastern reapers, respectively. As Lee made his way forward to accept the silver trophy from Cheryl, Tessa’s gaze swept the crowd and landed on April in the front row. The gray-haired woman was clearly seething. If her eyes had been able to make lightning, it was clear she would have burned Lee down right that second.
Lee shook Cheryl’s hand, and she stepped aside for him to sp
eak into the microphone. “Thank you so much, Cheryl. And thanks to my team, the western division, for bringing me this honor once again.” He pinned Cheryl with a smile. “I know the eastern district worked hard, and they only fell short by such a tiny bit. I think this is the closest it’s been in years. Last year, we beat you by five. Way to narrow the margin.” He clucked his tongue. “But better luck next year.”
April’s hands fisted on the desk in front of her. Her expression darkened even more.
Tessa worried April might leap up and try to strangle Lee. Cheryl kept an eye on April too, as though worried her boss may blow a figurative gasket and literally explode into an angry tirade.
Tessa thought the whole thing was silly. Three allocations. That was nothing in the grand scheme of reaps done over the past year. Why make such a fuss about it? And who decided how the things were split? She guessed it was on merit, on who was doing the best job. Otherwise, it made no sense.
Lee finished his speech, and Cheryl said some final uplifting things that no one listened to as they all buzzed about the allotment award. Cheryl concluded by wishing everyone a safe trip home.
Gloria turned toward Tessa. “One last bar night?”
But Tessa shook her head. Something had stuck in her mind while Lee was speaking. She watched April exit the conference room, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to her. Tessa got to her feet. “You know what? I have something to do real fast. I’ll meet you after I’m done, okay?”
Gloria shrugged. “Sure.”
Tessa headed into the lobby and waited for the elevator. Inside, she punched the button for the sixth floor.
Three allocations. Lee had won by three. And there had been three since they got on the plane in Chicago—Art, Cynthia, and the man on the golf course. Dani would have been another if Tessa hadn’t saved her.
No one knew who had reaped Art and Cynthia. They were eastern district reapers, but could they somehow have been counted in the western district’s numbers?