“Opportunity. If you’re trying to get me to buy into some new scheme, you can stop now.”
He actually laughed, and a pang of foolishness washed over me for a second. Still, our past made my warning bells legit. I didn’t trust Marcus as far as I could throw him and his wandering penis.
“I went back to school, Lou. My travels taught me so much. I went places and saw things you wouldn’t believe. Extraordinary things that expand the mind and change the perspective.”
The intensity of his gaze made me too uneasy to reply.
“To be honest, I went back to school because of you.”
“Me?” I countered, doubtful.
He nodded. “I got my degree in history because I was surrounded by it in my travels, but more importantly, it reminded me of your love of books.”
“Wow.”
“Wow is right. I’m a professor of history now.” He scooped a forkful of chocolate filling, holding it out for me to taste the same way he did when we were married. “Long Island University, babe.”
I watched his face as he held the forkful of pie. “LIU,” I repeated, making sure I heard right.
“The one and only.”
“I was offered a job there curating rare books.”
He slipped the fork between his lips, smacking it clean. “I know.”
I blinked. Impossible. “Are you telling me you recommended me for the curator position?
“Guilty as charged.”
Disbelieving, I didn’t know if I should thank him or smack the smug grin off his face.
“I figured you knew it was me when I heard you turned the job down. Then I heard you called to see if the position was still open, so I thought why not?”
“Why not as in stop by the library and rub it in?”
His fork clattered down on the plate. “Cut me a break, Louisa. I’m trying to make amends.”
I had to laugh, incredulous. Marcus apologizing for anything was as improbable as me working for Death Central, but here we were.
“Huh. Talk about startling someone into silence.” He played with his napkin. “It’s true, nonetheless. I was an immature shit when we were married, and it took losing you and going off on my own to realize just how much.” He hesitated, waiting for me to respond.
“Marcus…” I shook my head.
“I know. Too little, too late, right?”
I nodded.
“Even for us to be friends? After all, we started out that way.”
“That’s true, but Marcus, it’s been four years.”
He nodded again. “And we were married for ten. I think that should count for something.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “Time served.”
I didn’t know how to react, so I restated the obvious. “You show up out of the blue, and in ten minutes you tell me you recommended me for a job at the university where you work, that you apologize for ten years of being a dick, and now want to be friends.”
“When you put it that way, it’s enough to make one’s head spin.”
“That’s an understatement.”
He stabbed his plate with his fork, exactly the way he did when we were married and didn’t get his way.
“I get it,” he continued. “You need time to think, and that’s okay. Would it be all right if we met for dinner in a couple of days or so? Talk more?”
I opened my mouth but then closed it again. There he was. The same old Marcus. Like a dog with a bone. An irresistibly cute dog who wore you down until you played fetch. Except this dog’s irresistibility wasn’t what it used to be, but his old tricks were.
He met my eyes, and there was something in his gaze that made my hackles rise. Not stalkerish, but off.
“Look, I’m not going to press,” he kept on. “You’ve got my number, so give me a call when you’re ready.”
“I think you mean IF I’m ready.”
This meet-up had slid from clumsy straight into uncomfortable, so I signaled for the waitress to bring me a to-go cup for my iced tea. When she did, I poured it ice and all into the container and sealed the lid.
“Well then.” I slid my chair back and stood. “Until we see each other again.”
Marcus’s eyes held mine a little longer than necessary. “Unless I see you first.”
Chapter Fourteen
I LEFT THE CAFÉ with barely a nod. What the hell did Marcus mean? Unless I see you first. I needed to talk to someone, but the only person I had at this point was Thea, so I rushed back to the library only to find an ambulance in front of the building, and police vehicles blocking traffic both ways.
Thea and Marigold were on the library steps. Goldie was crying, her beehive hairdo quivering in time with her shaking shoulders. When she looked up and saw me, her mascara was all over her face.
“What happened?” I asked, dodging police as I ran up the library steps. “Did one of the seniors buy it in the back stacks?”
Thea shook her head. “It’s Alistair.”
I followed her eyes to the body in the street. The victim was prone, and half covered by a sheet, but I’d know Alistair’s polished Italian loafers anywhere.
“How?” My question was unnecessary, considering there was an MTA bus stopped at the curb with police questioning the driver.
“He didn’t look both ways,” Thea replied, and Marigold sobbed even harder.
“He was such a disagreeable schmuck,” she said with a hiccup,” but I didn’t wish him any ill will.”
I rubbed her arm. “None of us did, Goldie. Why don’t the two of you get your things and come home with me?”
“Can’t,” Thea replied. “The police told us we need to stay until they’ve finished their questioning, but we can come afterward.”
She mouthed a thank you, and I blew her a kiss. “You guys can crash at my place. I’ll order in Chinese, and we can talk all you want, or not at all.”
“Girl, you’d better make yourself scarce, or they’ll detain you as well.” Thea exhaled hard. “This is a fucking mess.”
Thea hardly ever swore, so I knew this had rocked her center. Hugging them both, I turned to head down the library stairs, but stopped short, not sure I saw what I saw. Alistair was front and center beside the corpse.
Could the police have gotten it wrong, and some other guy lay dead in the street? I glanced behind me to Thea, but she was still busy with Marigold.
Turning back, I caught the EMTs as they lifted the sheet for the onsite coroner, and my breath froze in my chest. They hadn’t gotten it wrong. I did.
Alistair stood next to his corpse staring at me. I blinked, but the look on my face must’ve given it away. He knew I spotted him.
This was so not good. I rushed in the opposite direction making a beeline for the sidewalk across from the scene. I needed to get home. I needed Cade.
An icy chill buffeted my back like a nor’easter, spurring me on faster. Ping-ponging left and right, I dodged people and scaffolding halfway to my house.
Muttering to myself had become a habit since this crazy invaded my life, and I was doing it again. Maybe I should’ve grabbed a cab. Nope. That was a stupid idea.
The brownstone was less than three blocks away, but more importantly, what if Alistair’s ghost hitched a ride like Disney’s Haunted Mansion? A captive audience with an apparition? No thank you.
“You’re being rude, Ms. Jericho. The least you can do is face me. Your little snit cost us both, and now I have to deal with the fallout from your temper tantrum.”
What the hell was he talking about? It almost sounded as if—
Oh no.
Not only was I out of my league with a new dearly departed, but it seemed my ghostly friend had no clue he was dead. I stopped mid-stride, knowing I was about to have a conversation with a spirit in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Alistair, can you tell me the last thing you remember?”
“Don’t try to change the subject. We’re talking about your complete disregard for rules, and the fact you coul
dn’t take a compliment without turning it into a huge taboo. You have no idea the trouble you’ve caused.”
“Alistair, I’m really trying to help you. You were a dick in life. Don’t be one in death.”
His translucent face was altogether stunned, and he looked at me as if I suddenly spoke in tongues. “Why would you say something like that?”
“Then riddle me this. Why are you practically transparent? You were pasty in life, but you weren’t a shimmering gray. Why is that?”
Uncertainty crossed his face.
“Like it or not, you proved the second law of physics up close and personal. Two objects can’t occupy the same space, and because of that, you’re now a cream sauce at the intersection of 10th Street and 6th Avenue.”
“I don’t want to hear this nonsense.”
“I’m sorry, Alistair, but there’s no other way to say it. You’re dead. You played chicken with a bus, and the bus won.”
People crossed the street to get away from me and my sidewalk rant, but I didn’t care. Not when another reaper-induced hot flash stirred despite the ghost’s icy proximity. Alistair was newly dead, and Keeper 101 said that made him fair game.
Something must have connected. A fragment of memory, or maybe even a slash of remembered pain, because he had the same smug, gotcha-look on his face he wore in life. “If I’m dead, then how are you talking to me?”
My hot flash ramped up the longer we stood arguing. I had to do something, and the only thing to do was get Alistair somewhere safe. Namely, my brownstone.
“It’s a long story, and I don’t have time to explain. You’re in danger, Alistair. You need to come with me.”
“Again, if I’m dead, then what danger is there?”
Was he for real? “Damn it, Alistair! You’re a pain in the ass even in death. I’m not talking about your body, dummy. I’m talking about your soul. So unless you have a fire and brimstone fetish, you need to leave with me now.”
“I don’t understand.”
I nearly reached for his hand, but stopped myself just short of his ethereal form. “You don’t have to understand. Not now, and definitely not here. You may not like me, but I have always told you the truth.”
I held out my hand, bracing for the cold, but the ghost simply nodded. “Lead on, MacDuff.”
Sweat trickled at this point, both from the exertion and my rising hot flash. It wasn’t the inferno I had earlier, but perhaps my presence with Alistair was enough to keep circling reapers at bay, and my body’s reaction somewhat muted. I banked on another lucky guess like the chakras, but there was still so much I didn’t know.
After all, I was technically a Keeper, and Angelica said it was whoever got there first. Still, the reapers had to know I was a neophyte.
I took the steps to the brownstone two at a time, using my chakra trick to calm myself enough to unlock the front door.
The moment I stepped inside with Alistair the hot flash ceased. I opened the vestibule door into the foyer, and pointed to the inlaid medallion at the center of the floor. “Stand there and don’t move. Not one inch.”
Alistair walked to the decorative circle as instructed. When I say walked, it was more glide than actual steps. He didn’t float, which struck me as odd. Did ghosts have a learning curve to being dead?
“CADE!” I yelled, letting every ounce of nervous energy into the shrill tone.
He walked from the kitchen with a hero sandwich big enough to choke a horse. “You’re late, but I kept myself occupied with this Dagwood special.”
“We have company.”
“Indeed,” he replied, chewing a bite. “The question is, how and why?”
“First off, that’s two questions. Second, you’re dripping mayonnaise on my polished hardwood. Go put your sandwich on a plate, and I’ll do my best to explain.”
He was there and back from the kitchen before I took my next breath. The mayo splotch was gone as well, and the floor shiny and clean.
“Wow, Cade. Do you do bathrooms, too?”
“Ha, ha. Now explain.”
“This is Alistair. He’s dead.”
“Stop stating the obvious. Who is he, and how did he attach himself to you?”
Alistair fidgeted in his spot. “Can the two of you stop talking about me as if I wasn’t here? Someone needs to tell me what’s happening.”
The set of Cade’s jaw told me he was conflicted on how to proceed. “Technically, you aren’t here,” he answered. “You’re in between. Not quite limbo, but definitely not of the earthly plane. It’s common with newly deceased.”
The ghost’s eyes nearly bugged.
“Alistair…c’mon. Look at me.” I redirected to keep him from freaking out and possibly vanishing. “I’m sorry this happened, but you’re here and you’re safe. Cade and I will figure things out. I promise.”
“Lou, it’s obvious you know this man. Who is he to you, exactly?” Cade looked between me and the ghost, and I actually hoped I’d find a twinge of jealousy in his eyes, but he was all business.
“I’m her boss,” Alistair replied. “Or I used to be.”
“Okay, then. This is making a little more sense. Do you remember how you died?”
Alistair’s head shake made the air around him shimmer. Cade looked at me next, but I shrugged. “I didn’t see the accident, but I’m pretty sure he was hit by an MTA bus.”
I explained the rest. To say Cade was not happy about my sidewalk soliloquy was an understatement.
“You berated a newly departed soul in the middle of a crowded downtown street.” The disappointment in his face made me wince. “Can you guess how wrong that was? On how many levels?”
“I don’t know. Ten?” I knew I was being flippant, but he didn’t know the contentious history behind the outburst. “I don’t get why telling Alistair he bought the farm was a bad thing.” I paused at Cade’s elevated eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I could’ve been nicer about it, I’ll give you that, but the rest? I don’t think so.”
“You should never have engaged. From what you said, it was clear Alistair was prepared to follow you home. You should’ve let that happen, and then dealt with his death status once I was there to help.”
My arms were crossed at my chest while he criticized back and forth, but now my hands were on my hips, ready for a faceoff in the middle of my foyer. Cade was out of line. Gorgeous even as he chided, but out of line.
“Should’ve?” I scoffed. “How dare you expect me to innately know what I should or shouldn’t do when I have almost no training in this death deal.”
“Lou—”
“Just let it happen,” I mimicked. “That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your body going up in flames every time you get within a block of a reaper.”
“Flames?” There was concern in his voice, but I ignored it.
Hmmph. “You think hell hath no fury? Try it with hot flashes.”
He blinked, and his brows pulled to a point above his nose. The guy had no idea what I was talking about.
“I’m pretty sure this Keeper gig has thrown my forty-year-old body into premature menopause, hence the hellfire hot flashes. You want to talk wrong on many, many levels? Or is that too much for your century-old pre-suffragette mindset?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Name one thing about this that’s fair. I have hot flashes, Cade. As in my personal tell for reaper proximity. I have no idea what my body is saying. Are reapers just in the vicinity, or are they stalking me, waiting for me to screw up?”
“Louisa—”
One hand shot up, shutting him down. I hadn’t planned on sharing this with him, let alone with us glaring at each other in my front hallway.
“Angelica should be the one hearing this, not you. Still, hot flashes or not, sidewalk rant or not, I wasn’t about to let some rando reaper have Alistair. Did I loathe the little turd in life? Yeah, just about, but you don’t condemn someone to darkness just for being a dick. Hell would otherwise overflow with self-centered
jerk-wads.”
Alistair’s pallid eyes glistened. “Ms. Jericho…” he began, his voice cracking. “Thank you for standing between me and what sounds like an awful fate. I’m sorry for being less than pleasant during the time we knew each other.”
I nodded, but was sorry to see Alistair bordering on broken. I preferred his self-satisfied sniff to this uncertainty.
“Louisa, we need to get your friend to Memento Mori asap. Angelica needs to assign him a Keeper. That’s if there’s even one available.” Cade pulled his cellphone from his pocket, scrolling for the office number. “You know how long the wait can be. Especially with a situation this irregular. Plus, you should speak with her about your sudden…change of life.”
I nearly laughed at his politely embarrassed turn of phrase. Was my hottie Keeper a closet prude? It was almost endearing, and I would definitely have a little fun pushing his old-fashioned buttons.
“Wait a minute,” Alistair piped up. “What am I supposed to do while you people figure things out? Hang around the attic like a bat in a belfry?” The ghost raked a hand through his thinning hair, his ethereal face distraught. “And what’s a Keeper?” he continued. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Cade gave him the reader’s digest version, and Alistair’s eyes darted to me. “Okay then, good. I vote for Louisa to be my Keeper. She’s here. She knows me. It’s obviously providential she saw me first.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Cade replied, even less happy than when I explained my sidewalk rant.
Alistair’s face was a cross between freaked out and frustrated. “I’m not moving from here unless Louisa is my Keeper. She has never been afraid to give me the unvarnished truth, however jagged or unwelcome. We may not like each other, but I trust her.”
Alistair moved from his spot on the medallion so quickly, his form was no more than an icy blur. Cade lunged to intercept him before he reached me, but he was too late.
The moment the ghost touched my shoulder, a strange twist snaked in my gut. This wasn’t a hot flash. This was an uncoiling. Like a cord had been loosed at my core, and was unraveling from me to Alistair.
My hand went to my stomach, gripping my shirt against the unfamiliar sensation. “What just happened?”
Jeepers Reapers: There Goes My Midlife Crisis Page 11