After/Life_Bargaining

by Scarlett Whispers

  Casey took the first step and stopped.

  “Oh,” she said, turning back to join Sam at the desk. “I meant to ask you. I didn’t want to mention this before. I know you’ve been distracted lately.”

  “What is it?” Sam said.

  “I think something’s missing from the Lopez records,” Casey said.

  “Missing?” Sam said. “From which one?”

  “The house we hit the day before…” Casey said, trailing off.

  She didn’t need to complete the sentence. Sam understood what she was saying. The day before they lost Molly.

  “Something from the drugs bust,” Casey said. “An item Molly found on the angel statue.”

  The item.

  Casey didn’t need to say more. Sam already knew what she was talking about. The item Molly had asked him to keep back for her. The item Lopez had wanted and had taken Molly’s life over. That item.

  “I can double check,” Sam said. “Make sure everything is filed away in the right place.”

  “I already have,” Casey said. “Jacob helped me. But it’s not there.”

  “Perhaps it was filed away somewhere else by accident,” Sam said. “I can do a search if you’d like.”

  “That would be great,” Casey said. “But don’t put yourself out. There’s a lot of evidence boxes out there. If you need help, I’m always here.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said. “I’ll let you know.”

  “It would be good to find it,” Casey said. “Even if it’s just to figure out what makes it so special that Lopez was willing to take such a risk for it.”

  “I understand,” Sam said.

  “See you at lunch?” Casey said.

  Sam reached under the desk and lifted his lunch bag.

  “Back to the old routine,” Casey said with a smile.

  “You know me,” Sam said.

  Casey walked back to the stairs, this time taking them up.

  Sam thought for a moment before putting his lunch bag back under the desk. He let his hand drift over to the stack of printer paper they had stored there. He found the small gap he’d made to slide the shot glass in. He felt the plastic casing. It was still there.

  The last thing he wanted was to besmirch Molly’s name after she’d been given full honors. He didn’t want Casey’s name to be called into question either. It had been a decision between himself and Molly only, no one else.

  He would file the item away in a cold case and make it look like it had been an innocent mistake. Such things happened when you held tens of thousands of pieces of evidence.

  But there was no rush. It could take a great deal of time before someone located the shot glass. Sam could carry out his own investigation into the object, and why it had been worth the life of the woman he loved.

  Chapter Eight

  O’Dell changed his mind about going to talk to Sam half a dozen times while taking his morning shower. And then a further dozen times while sat on the bus.

  Molly had a guy sit on her, which wasn’t the most pleasant experience in the world. He had to be two hundred pounds. Why couldn’t one of the Hugo Boss models take the 390 bus to town?

  Each time O’Dell had second thoughts, Molly was quick to begin her green bottles song over again. It was enough to make O’Dell turn on the spot and continue on their journey.

  O’Dell had as many excuses for why he didn’t want to go downtown as he had strands of hair on his head.

  “I hate downtown,” O’Dell said. “It smells and the people are up themselves.”

  “I hate taking the bus,” O’Dell would say next. “If you want me to go to see this guy, you should be the one to organize my transport. And pay for it too. Why do I have to be the one to pay for it?”

  “I hate weather like this,” O’Dell said a minute later. “Makes me want to sit and cry.”

  Finally out of excuses, he resorted to making unhappy grunting noises designed, Molly suspected, to draw as much sympathy for him as possible. None of it worked. When Molly had a goal in mind, no one and nothing could stop her from achieving it.

  If Molly didn’t know where O’Dell lived she suspected he would have hightailed from her the first moment he could.

  How someone could hate downtown when they lived in the cesspool of town, Molly didn’t know. But Molly didn’t care. She was focused on the task at hand, and she wasn’t about to change her mind now. No matter how much he complained. Molly needed him.

  Molly had met criminals like him before. They were not bad people. Often they needed a life lesson in morals or, in O’Dell’s case, an upgrade in self-confidence. He was an entirely different animal to Wayne Lopez.

  “Down here,” Molly said, taking them down a narrow alley.

  O’Dell sighed.

  “So, what’s your big plan to get him to listen to me?” he said.

  “Just talk to him,” Molly said. “He’ll listen.”

  “And what about when he recognizes my voice?” O’Dell said. “After he punches me in the face and leaves me for dead?”

  Molly smiled at the idea of that.

  “That’s not going to happen,” she said. “You don’t know him. And a good thing too. If it were someone you knew, they’d be guaranteed to punch you in the face.”

  “Ha,” O’Dell said. “I didn’t know ghosts could have senses of humor.”

  “To be with you, I think I need one,” Molly said.

  O’Dell grumbled under his breath.

  “And you’re sure he’ll listen?” O’Dell said.

  “Of course he will,” Molly said. “It’s the truth.”

  Molly blinked. She hadn’t considered the idea that he wouldn’t listen. When something was so obvious to you, the cold hard truth, it was hard to believe someone else wouldn’t believe it.

  But what was her evidence, exactly? How could she prove to him she not only existed but that he could trust O’Dell? Molly would cross that bridge when she came to it.

  They entered a park that backed onto a large cemetery. It wasn’t the same one Molly’s body was buried under, but property of the city’s cathedral.

  “Make sure to do everything I say when I say it,” Molly said. “I realize you don’t have a servile bone in your body, but just try.”

  She turned to find O’Dell wasn’t at her side, but some steps back. He hadn’t yet entered the park. He had a scared expression, shifting from one foot to another like he was going to bolt at any moment.

  “What’s wrong?” Molly said.

  She swore if this was another of his dumb-ass excuses...

  “You never said anything about coming to this place,” O’Dell said. “I want to nix the whole thing.”

  “What’s wrong with this place?” Molly said.

  The birds sang and the health-conscious made their jogging rounds along the paths.

  “It’s green, with wide open spaces and fresh air,” Molly said. “What’s the problem?”

  “You know what’s over there?” O’Dell said, nodding toward the far corner.

  “Sure I know what’s there,” Molly said.

  She almost added, “It’s my old workplace,” but thought better of it. She had been very careful not to mention her nor Sam’s vocation during their entire exchange. She was well aware of the rift between the cops and O’Dell’s community. But she hadn’t thought being in close proximity to the station would cause much of a problem.

  “We don’t need to go very close to the building,” Molly said. “We just need to go into the park.”

  “How far?” O’Dell said.

  He sure was skittish. Molly associated nothing but fond memories of that building. She supposed she ought to. She had never been arrested before.

  “We won’t go any closer than the center,” Molly said. “I promise.”

  O’Dell still didn’t look sure.

  “You’re not some kind of evil demon, are you?” he said. “Come to get me arrested and locked away?”

  “Of course not,” Moll
y said.

  “Said like a true demon,” O’Dell grumbled under his breath. “I suppose asking the question was a stupid thing to do in the first place. You would have lied anyway.”

  Molly walked back to O’Dell and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It passed through him. She still couldn’t get the ghost power right.

  “I promise you, I am not some kind of evil demon sent to aid in your destruction,” Molly said. “So far as I can tell, you’re quite capable of that yourself.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation before O’Dell smirked, chuckling under his breath.

  “Okay,” he said, beginning to break free of his shock. “I’ll go. We already came this far. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to normal life.”

  The park was host to a number of varying settings. There were two ponds at opposite corners. One was large and supported the use of paddle boats. The other was small and used exclusively for wildlife, predominantly ducks and wild chickens. A few well-placed large boughed trees provided necessary cover from the blazing summer sun.

  More than a few people were out on this warm day, to grab their lunch and sit somewhere nice.

  “Come sit down here,” Molly said.

  “Care to be a little more specific?” O’Dell said.

  “Here,” Molly said. “On the bench.”

  O’Dell groaned like an old man as he took a seat.

  “Now what?” he said.

  “Now, we wait,” Molly said.

  “You do realize I actually have a life?” O’Dell said.

  “Do you?” Molly said. “Lucky you.”

  O’Dell looked at the ground.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean…”

  “I know,” Molly said. “It’s okay. It’s just one of those things.”

  “What’s it like to die?” O’Dell said.

  Now that Molly was on the receiving end of the question she had previously asked Ada, she realized she wasn’t perturbed by it either. It was what had happened.

  “Is it painful?” O’Dell said.

  “No, just peaceful,” Molly said. “Like going to sleep. The death part, anyway. I suppose the pain comes depending on how you actually die. I got shot, and died quickly.”

  “That’s the way to go,” O’Dell said. “A quick bullet out of the blue. That’s the way I’d like to go. I don’t want to get sick and die slowly.”

  “I suppose I was lucky in some ways,” Molly said. “Still, I would have liked to have lived longer. Maybe have a family.”

  “And what’s this Halfway House like?” O’Dell said.

  Molly was surprised he had actually paid attention to what she had said. She didn’t strike him as the observant type.

  “It’s a big prison,” Molly said. “Made of white glass. Everyone goes there to pay penance for all the bad things they did in their lives.”

  “Bad things?” O’Dell said. “Like what?”

  “Everything,” Molly said. “They keep a record of everything you’ve ever done. They even had stuff I did when I was a kid.”

  “Seriously?” O’Dell said. “Then I’m in bad trouble.”

  “It’s not too late to change,” Molly said. “They said I managed to reduce my sentence by doing a lot of good in recent years.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that,” O’Dell said.

  “Why?” Molly said.

  “Once you pick a path in life, that’s the path you take forever,” O’Dell said.

  “Who told you that?” Molly said.

  O’Dell shrugged.

  “Just something I picked up,” he said.

  “Then you ought to drop it and pick up another mantra,” Molly said. “You absolutely can change. I imagine you’ve already improved your situation by helping me out here today.”

  “Does it count if I was forced to do it?” O’Dell said.

  “I don’t know,” Molly said. “But I know I would give you some brownie points for it.”

  O’Dell smiled.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  A runner passed with one of those fancy straps on her arm to measure how far and fast she’d run. A serious runner. O’Dell watched her go, and then looked in the opposite direction, expecting to see someone chasing her. Why else would she be running?

  O’Dell was from a different world, every bit as different as the one Molly had escaped from. This world was a foreign land to him, even though he lived only a handful of miles away.

  “How long do I have to wait here?” O’Dell said.

  Molly checked both directions. She would have expected Sam to be here already. Perhaps he decided to give it a miss today. Or he decided to make a change in his life and be more spontaneous.

  And then she saw him.

  He cradled a newspaper under one arm and a lunch box in the other. He would sit down right here, Molly thought. Good old reliable Sam. Even her death couldn’t knock him from his usual routine.

  “He’s coming,” Molly said. “Do you see the tall guy?”

  “That guy?” O’Dell said. “I thought you said I was going to be talking to a man? Not a giant! That’s the guy I spoke to this morning? He’s going to eat me for breakfast!”

  “He won’t touch you,” Molly said. “He’s a kind man.”

  “I hope so,” O’Dell said. “I didn’t even get my last will and testament sorted yet.”

  “He’ll sit right here,” Molly said. “Next to you. All you need to do is tell him what I’ll tell you.”

  “Try to remember I’m your only link with the rest of the world,” O’Dell said. “If I die, there goes your chances of communicating with anyone.”

  Sam approached the bench, eying the empty seat beside O’Dell. Then he glanced at O’Dell, who smiled sheepishly, before turning his body to continue walking.

  “Wait, what?” O’Dell said. “I thought you said he was going to sit down here?”

  “He usually does,” Molly said. “Something must have put him off.”

  She cast an eye at the bench, the tree behind it. And then she realized what it was.

  O’Dell’s appearance.

  The last thing anybody wanted on their lunch break was hassle. And O’Dell looked like 100% hassle.

  “Okay,” Molly said. “Change of plans. We’ll follow him, find out where he’ll sit and then take our place beside him.”

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble,” O’Dell said. “Especially from a man his size. If he thinks I’m following him, he’ll deck me.”

  “He won’t,” Molly said. “Just follow him.”

  O’Dell sighed and grumbled something about joining Molly soon in the world of the dead. He got up and followed Sam.

  Sam never checked over his shoulders and didn’t suspect anyone would be following him now. Especially not on his lunch break. He came to another bench and took a seat.

  It sat facing the lake. Ducks honked and fluttered their wings on the water’s surface. There was a chill in the air, the kind that was slow to sink into the bones.

  “Sit next to him,” Molly said. “And smile. People like others who smile.”

  O’Dell wrung his hands. He was nervous. He dumped himself on the bench, causing it to shake.

  Sam sat with his lunch bag on his knees. He looked over at O’Dell with half a glare. At the lack of manners some people had for others. When he saw O’Dell’s face, his eyes glanced back at the bench he had previously been sitting on. O’Dell was grinning like an idiot.

  “Can I help you?” Sam said.

  “Uh, actually, no,” O’Dell said. “It’s me that can help you.”

  Sam hadn’t yet recognized O’Dell's voice from the telephone call the previous evening. That was a good sign.

  Sam sat waiting for O’Dell’s response. His expression was cold and distant. Not what she associated with Sam at all. Funny how people appeared when they didn’t know you were looking at them.

  Still, Molly’s heart filled with love for him. She could barely co
ntain it. She felt the thick hot wedge at the back of her throat, signaling the onset of tears. She coughed to clear it. Her nose was already becoming blocked, eyes shimmering.

  Everything she had been through, from her incarceration at the Halfway House, to racing to escape the guards, to confronting O’Dell, all of it was worth it for this moment. Just to see him again, up close.

  “I have a message for you,” O’Dell said. “It’s from Molly.”

  Sam stared at O’Dell, his sandwich, clutched forgotten in his hand, his lunch bag teetering on the edge of his thigh.

  “You were the one that called me,” he said. “Last night.”

  “Yes,” O’Dell said. “Molly said you often come here for your lunch break. To get some fresh air.”

  “I don’t have time for this,” Sam said, getting to his feet.

  He chucked his sandwich back in his lunch bag and walked away.

  “Don’t let him go!” Molly said.

  “What can I do?” O’Dell said.

  “Tell him I died a few days ago, and I went to a place that wasn’t nice,” Molly said. “Tell him I managed to escape because I need to warn him about something.”

  O’Dell got to his feet.

  “Molly said she died a few days ago,” O’Dell said. “She was in a crappy place. She managed to escape, and came back here to warn you.”

  Sam didn’t turn around and kept on walking.

  “It’s not enough,” O’Dell said. “He doesn’t believe it.”

  “No,” Molly said. “He does. But it’s stuff we could have learned in the newspaper or made up.”

  “Then what couldn’t we know any other way?” O’Dell said. “Something personal.”

  He took off at a run to catch up to Sam.

  “Tell him we met in the basement, at the office,” Molly said.

  “Molly said you met in the basement, at the office,” O’Dell said.

  “Stop following me!” Sam said.

  “Tell him he has a birthmark at the top of his inner left thigh,” Molly said. “In the shape of a pair of cherries.”

  “I can’t tell him that!” O’Dell said.

  “Just do it!” Molly said.

  O’Dell shook his head and rolled his eyes.