The First Ghost

by Marguerite Butler

  I sniffed. Something was burning. No. Wait. More like cigarettes.

  “Hephzibah?”

  “How you doing, doll? Was today useful?”

  “I think I know who killed Corinne. And I think I know how. One of the scientists at her workplace poisoned her with his heart meds. I just don’t know why.”

  “That was useful. Where is she?”

  I shifted. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve lost her?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know where she went. She followed me to the funeral home and then she got mad about something and said she had to check on Billy and I haven’t seen her since. She was supposed to come with me to the police station and help, but when the time came…” I shrugged. “I don’t know what to think about her.”

  Hephzibah nodded. “She’s starting to separate herself more and more from this world. I think she’s about ready to cross over.”

  I glanced around to make sure Corinne wasn’t lurking. “I met Lincoln Brown, at the police station.”

  “I know him.”

  “Why is it that we have to keep everything secret? It seems more fair to tell the dead the rules.”

  She studied me. “I can’t even tell you all the rules. You’ve got to find most of it out on your own. They shouldn’t know the rules at all.”

  “But why? It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “That’s from the outside looking in. Trust me on this.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No, but they do. And the choice has to be freely given, not made out of fear or coercion. Otherwise it’s Reclaimers. Hope you never have to see that one. Sometimes they accidentally destroy souls while they try to take them.” She looked me up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look hot. Gotta date?”

  I glanced at the clock. “He’s late.”

  “Bummer. I used to hate that in a man. I’m not so picky anymore.” She winked. “I’m real happy for you, doll. You’ve been kinda stressed and cranky. You need to get laid.”

  Saved by a knock on the door. She gave me a meaningful look. “Corinne is running out of time. The mark is already fading.”

  “Mark?”

  “The mark. The one that shows her as claimed. Reclaimers can’t touch her if she’s claimed, but the mark only lasts so long. Once that’s gone, then she’s in play. Reclaimers can bag her if they find her.”

  On that cheery note, I answered the door. Dr. Ethan Feller was even more gorgeous than I remembered: dark wavy hair, blue eyes, strong chin. And he was short. Really short.

  My dream man was perfect and handsome and a doctor and short.

  Have I mentioned short?

  His chin tilted upward, taking in my full six feet. “You looked a lot shorter lying down.”

  “I’ll get my flats.”

  * * * *

  Ethan was short, but he wasn’t cheap. Drinks turned out to be the bar in Mastrioni’s, a ritzy place on the north side of the city. He had his own car, too, a nice, safe Toyota. Bland, but I gave him a pass. Maybe he was environmentally conscious.

  He was funny, too.

  Short and funny.

  The preliminaries are always awkward, but Ethan made them easy as he drove us to the restaurant. “Okay, I’m thirty-two, from Phoenix, Arizona. My parents still live there, which should make me a prime catch. Never married. Non-smoker. And...uh...five-six and a half. You?”

  “Twenty-eight. I’m a local girl. My mother owns a funeral home with my stepfather. I’ve got a twin brother. Never married. Non-smoker. And six feet tall without the heels.”

  He glanced over and smiled. “I don’t usually date tall women.”

  “I don’t usually date short men.”

  “Or patients. That’s sort of frowned on.”

  “I’m not your patient. I just passed through the ER.”

  He laughed. “That’s how I rationalized it, too. I guess that was my lucky day.”

  “I’ve had better days. But I’m glad something good came of it.”

  “That was a nasty bump.”

  What could I say? Now I see dead people? And one is living in my house with her dog? A demon has been following me around? Death shows up unannounced to comment on my sex life?

  I settled on, “I lost my job because of missing too much work.”

  “Can they do that? That has to be against the law.”

  “I’m a pretty good secretary. I’ll find another job soon. And I’ve got part-time stuff to tide me over. What’s it like working in an ER?”

  “Nothing like TV. Mostly a lot of car crashes and a few gunshot wounds. Lots of sick street people.”

  “So it’s not all fast and furious?”

  “Sometimes,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s either crazy busy or boring, but I like helping people and I can’t imagine working in an office. I like the crazy hours and the busy times. It suits me.”

  “I can see that.”

  Mastrioni’s was quiet and dim. A perfect date location. As we walked in, I was conscious of people staring. Even in flats I was a head taller than Ethan. Once we were safely perched on bar stools, the difference was far less noticeable. He ordered a martini, and I had a cosmopolitan, safe choices for us both.

  First dates are always tricky. Do you do the petite salad and water thing or go straight for steak? If I can’t stand my date and know I never want to see him again, I go right to the bottom of the menu for the surf and turf. Ethan was a nice guy, and I wasn’t sure what ER doctors made. Still, with the height difference and all, I wasn’t sure enough about longevity to pretend I ate healthy rabbit food all the time.

  I went for a safe grilled chicken and pasta. Slightly healthy if you ignored the alfredo sauce and in the middle of the price range. Plus there weren’t any green bits to get stuck in my teeth. I suspected he might be too polite to tell me and I didn’t want to walk around that way. I wouldn’t mind ending with a little kissing. He had a gorgeous smile.

  Things were going well. He was smiling at my stories and laughing in the right places. I touched his hand lightly, and he turned it over for palm to palm contact. Subtle, yet enticing.

  He was everything I had hoped. Well, everything but tall. But I was reevaluating my position on height. The activities I had in mind didn’t need to occur standing up, although they can if you’re a little creative.

  Then I smelled it, the fetid, goatish scent of a demon.

  Startled, I looked around the room. I didn’t see it, but I did see the hard blonde glaring at me. Her eyes widened when she realized she had been spotted and she vanished. The demon smell was stronger. Where was it?

  “Are you okay?” Ethan looked at me strangely. “Were you looking for something?”

  “Did you see the restrooms?”

  “To the left.”

  “Thanks. Be right back.”

  I took my clutch and walked slowly, taking the opportunity to look around the busy bar. The booth where the blonde had been was empty, but the demon smell was stronger.

  I reached the door to the ladies’ room and almost vomited. That’s how strong the smell was. As I grasped the restroom door, something brushed my hair. I whirled around and there it was, right on top of me. It loomed over me, breathing its horrible stench into my face. I wanted to faint or panic or run, but I couldn’t move. I tried to lean back, but I was up against the door. Then it spoke to me.

  Not being fluent in demon, I couldn’t understand a word, but the menace in its deep, guttural voice was clear. I was being warned off. It sounded like an old record being played back slowly in reverse, something Harry and I did as little kids. It gave a gravelly chuckle, and then, in a sudden whoosh of hot air, it was gone.

  My hands shook as I went into the restroom. I sat in the stall for a moment to compose myself before deciding that cold water would do the trick. I opened the stall door and stared in the mirror over the sink. I let out a strangled shriek. The face in the mirror wasn’t mine.

 
Anger flooded in, overtaking and drowning the terror.

  “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

  The blonde stared back sullenly. She was older than I had thought, on the far side of fifty. Life hadn’t been kind. She had a world-weary, beaten-down face. Two smears of blue over her eyes passed for eyeshadow, and her pink, frosted lipstick was crooked.

  “She said you would help me.”

  Finally, a voice from my stalker. “Corinne? You’ve been talking to Corinne?”

  “She said you could see me, that you could help me. I’ve been waiting.” Her voice was as harsh as her face. “My name is Starla Mueller. I got murdered. And I want you to make the sonofabitch pay.”

  Chapter 9

  “I don’t know what Corinne has told you, but I’m no detective. I don’t solve murders. All I’ve done is get some information for Corinne,” I said.

  “I don’t need a detective. I know who killed me. I need you to make sure the bastard doesn’t get away with it.”

  “Whoa. Whoa.” I put my hands up. “You totally have the wrong person here.”

  “I don’t think so. You got into that police station. You could make the detective listen. My no-good, two-timing, loser, rat-bastard husband killed me, and he’s gonna get away with it. Nobody gives a shit. The police don’t know nothing about what happened. And Joby’s gonna marry that piece of crap Wanda.” Her thin lips trembled. “That’s just wrong.”

  I was going to get sucked in. I could feel it. “You can’t stay here. There’s a...” Lincoln Brown’s warning about too much information rang in my ears. “It’s not safe here. Can you find where I live?”

  She sniffed. “I can follow you.”

  Having Starla along for my date was not what I had in mind. “But I’m staying here for a while and you can’t. You just can’t. It’s dangerous. If you smell something really, um, smelly...in a backed-up sewer kind of way, run. Get out as fast as you can, okay? And stay in here. I’ll come back.”

  She put her hand on her hip. “You want me to wait in the bathroom for you? You’re kidding, right? Honey, I was a cocktail waitress. I belong at the bar. I’ll sit there.”

  “Fine. Do what you want. Just remember what I said about the smell. And no eavesdropping. Got it?”

  “Whatever.”

  I poked my head out, but the coast looked and smelled clear. I also didn’t see Starla, but I knew she was near. “Don’t stand so close,” I muttered. The cold chill near my left hand moved farther away. Mother was partly right. I was starting to feel it when ghosts were near, but it hadn’t taken me years.

  “Are you okay?” Ethan’s forehead wrinkled with concern.

  “I needed the ladies’ room.”

  “You ran out of here so suddenly.”

  “It was sort of an emergency. How’s your food?”

  We stayed longer than I intended because the conversation was so easy. The car ride home was freezing. I had no doubt that Starla was along for the ride. I couldn’t help but feel inhibited knowing that she was listening in. It’s hard to flirt with a dead cocktail waitress in the car.

  I invited Ethan in for a cup of tea. I wasn’t letting go of him without a good-night kiss. When I opened my apartment door, a fawn-colored bullet streaked past.

  “Billy!” I dove for him, but he was too fast.

  Ethan took a startled step backward and lost his balance. He landed with his butt in the narrow strip of grass along the curb.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” I helped him up. “Tell me you aren’t muddy.”

  “I don’t think so.” He brushed his cute ass, giving me an excuse to stare. “What was that?”

  “My dog. I am so sorry. He must have needed to potty.” I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Billy! Get back here now. Billy!”

  “Did he run away?”

  “No.” I trotted over to the bushes and squatted down. “He’s probably in here somewhere.”

  The smell hit my nose, and a sudden fear seized me. Did demons eat little dogs?

  “Ar-ar-ar-ar-ar-ar.” Billy sounded like a car with a bad starter. I found him around the corner with all four legs squarely planted, barking for all he was worth at a slobbering demon. The demon ignored him, slouching away. With a sudden whoosh it was gone, leaving its rank odor behind.

  “Come here, silly boy.” He bounded over to my side, slobbering on me in excitement. “Foolish dog.” I scooped him up. “I’ve got him,” I called to Ethan. “He was probably chasing a cat.” Or a demon. “Foolish, brave doggie.”

  I carried Billy, muddy paws and all, back to my apartment. He ran around leaving little smudges on my gorgeous carpet, but it didn’t matter. I was going to be evicted anyway and when they got a look at the doorjamb in the bathroom, my deposit was toast.

  “So this is Billy.” Ethan bent at the waist. “Cute little guy.”

  Billy wriggled happily at his name and raced off to find his favorite toy.

  The murderous card game was underway in my kitchen, so after I put the kettle on we moved into the living room. Sitting beside Ethan on the couch made me feel like a giant woman. I leaned back against the cushions.

  I had a question in mind to ask, but I quickly forgot.

  I’m not sure who moved in for the kiss first. It was a mutual meeting of lips, and as first kisses go, it was pretty darn good. Soft at the beginning. Hesitant. Questioning. Then firmer, more insistent as the answer came. And just when I was wanting more, just when I was ready to slip my arms around his waist and slide my hands down his full length to cup that enticing, slightly muddy ass, just when I was ready to lose myself completely in a moment of feeling and forget ghosts and dogs and apartments and jobs, Ethan pulled away.

  He didn’t go far, just disengaged his mouth. “I’ve had a wonderful time tonight,” he murmured, close to my ear, his breath tickling me.

  “Ummm,” I said, or something equally witty.

  “But I have to be at work tonight and if I don’t stop now...” He gave a shaky laugh.

  “You work tonight?”

  “I have to go on duty in a couple of hours.”

  I pulled back. “Do you still want tea?”

  “Rain check?”

  Damn. Damndamndamn. “Sure.” I smiled. “No problem.” Damn it all.

  He gave me a sweet peck at the door, and he was gone. Billy lay by the fireplace, mauling his toy and growling at it. Perhaps in his imagination he was exacting revenge on the demon.

  “That’s so nice,” Corinne said sourly. “My murder goes unsolved, and you’re playing doctor. How cozy.”

  “Ease up, honey,” Starla said. “She went to the police today. I saw her. I saw everything.” She smirked. “He’s a hottie, but waaaay too short. I hope his equipment ain’t the same.”

  “Starla!” Corinne put her hands to her cheeks. “You shouldn’t watch people like that.”

  “Why the hell not? It ain’t like I’m going to be getting any. Might as well watch.”

  “No one is getting any around here,” I said. “This place is too damn crowded.” The more ghosts that moved in, the better being evicted sounded. Maybe they wouldn’t follow me when I left.

  “Tell me about the police.” Corinne drifted close to me. “Have they solved my murder? Do they have a suspect?”

  I sighed. “They thought maybe you killed yourself or it was some kind of accidental poisoning.”

  “What?” She zoomed upward.

  “Come back. There’s more. I told them it was murder. Detective Fierro is going to look into it. You were poisoned with a heart medicine called Rymeced. You do know who takes Rymeced, right? I think Dr. Seleman poisoned you.”

  She stared at me in horror. “Jon Seleman? He’s my boss. He’s got a bad heart. He keeps medicine in his office.”

  “Corinne, don’t take this the wrong way, but were you in the habit of eating other people’s food?”

  Her pudgy face convulsed with anger. “How dare you?”

  “If someone knew you hadn’
t eaten and that you would eat the burrito, you might have been the intended target all along. Would Dr. Seleman have a reason to kill you? You weren’t having an affair with him or anything like that, were you?”

  “Of course not! Dr. Seleman wouldn’t do something like that to me. He isn’t like most of the researchers there. He’s nice to the staff. Someone must have taken his medicine.” She seemed truly distressed, but if I believed her, there went my one and only theory. I wasn’t very good at the detective thing.

  “If it isn’t Dr. Seleman, it has to be one of your co-workers. I can’t imagine anyone else having access to the medicine and to the burrito.”

  “But now he knows, right? The detective is going to treat it like a homicide?”

  I hesitated. “He said he would look into it.”

  Starla snorted. “He ain’t gonna do shit. Don’t nobody care about people like us, Corinne.”

  I glared at Starla, but she was studying her nails, which had been painted hot pink roughly three or four weeks ago, judging by the chipped polish.

  “That’s not true. I wouldn’t have gotten involved if I didn’t care.” And if you weren’t both haunting me. “I do care.”

  “Yeah, but you’re one of us,” Starla said. “Just a working nobody.”

  “I beg your pardon, but I’ve got skills. I type seventy words a minute and I’m proficient in spreadsheets and accounting software.”

  “Hah. You’re a secretary. They care more about your legs than taking a letter.”

  “My last boss was a woman.”

  “That don’t mean she wasn’t looking at your ass.” Starla snapped her fingers.

  “Don’t snap at me,” I said.

  “I’ll snap if I want to.” She snapped again.

  “One of my co-workers,” Corinne said. Starla and I turned to look at her. “You need a job.”

  “Yes,” I said slowly.

  Corinne’s smile grew. “I know a secretarial job that’s vacant. I’ll bet you’re qualified. I’ll bet you could give answers that would knock my boss’s socks off, especially if you had inside information.”

  My eyes widened. “I am not taking a job at your office to play detective. No way. No how.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said happily. “I’ll coach you.”