Joyce & Jim Lavene - Taxi for the Dead 02 - Dead Girl Blues

by Joyce Lavene

  I laughed at that. “It’s all I can do to keep the inn around us. Lucas is a big help, but I don’t think they’d let him live here because he offered to trim their grass.”

  Her pretty brown eyes caught mine. “What about because he’s a legendary sorcerer? They’d probably be afraid not to let him live here.”

  I didn’t tell her about the less than perfect state of his magic. We rarely discussed him—there was barely enough time to talk about Debbie’s problems with Terry. I didn’t want to talk about Lucas or our relationship anyway. Although after the way he’d looked at me that morning, I wished I could confide in her. It threw me to know that he might really care about me. I hadn’t planned on it.

  But I’d always been a private person. I wouldn’t have broached the subject anyway.

  The elevator chimed softly, discreetly, and we stepped inside.

  “This man is definitely not going to come peacefully.” She took out the tranq gun she’d shoved into the pocket of her shorts. “Do you have the Beretta? I know you can’t kill him with it, but you could slow him down.”

  “I have it, but I don’t think we’ll need it. He’s going to come along peacefully because he won’t want to embarrass himself in front of his neighbors.” I grinned at her. “You’ll see.”

  We got up to the sixth floor and found ourselves in another carefully modulated, softly lit area. We followed the etched numbers on the doors until we came to Benton’s condo.

  “I’ll knock,” I told Debbie.

  “You knocked last time. Why don’t I do it this time? Maybe my voice and my knock will make a difference.”

  I stepped back from the wood door. “By all means. I’m sure your knock will be more soothing than mine would be.”

  Debbie smiled and softly knocked on the door. “Excuse me, Mr. Benton. I’m Debbie Hernandez. Abe sent me. I’m sure you know why. Are you having a problem? I’m here to escort you to him if you need help. Please come along peacefully. You don’t want to embarrass yourself.”

  “I can’t believe you’re trying to convince him not to run. You lose if he goes with us.”

  “It’s true. But if we find out I can talk the runners into just coming along quietly, we’d know we had something—and I’d bet on them not running every time.”

  I had to laugh at that. Then I heard something from inside the condo. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Debbie laid her ear against the door. “I don’t hear anything. Is that your zombie senses kicking in?”

  I heard the same sound again. “I think he’s calling for help.”

  “What do we do if he is?”

  “We kick the door in. Excuse me.”

  I kicked the door, but either my legs weren’t what they used to be or the door was granite.

  “Probably metal,” Debbie said. “You’d have to be the Terminator to get in that way. Maybe you should shoot off the lock.”

  “Maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea if we don’t want to go to jail.” I pushed at the door. “It doesn’t feel like metal to me. If both of us put our shoulders to it, we should be able to get it.”

  Debbie tucked her tranq gun into her pocket. “Abe should have made you with super zombie strength for this job.”

  “He didn’t make me. Now shut up and push.”

  We had to hit it with our full body weights a few times before it finally opened. Debbie grabbed her gun and ran inside first. I followed but didn’t pull the Beretta.

  The inside of the condo was clean and neat. Everything was luxurious and carefully appointed. There was no sign of our LEP in the main room, but I heard him yelling for help from the bedroom.

  “Guess you were right,” Debbie said.

  “In there.”

  The bedroom was darkened, shades and heavy curtains over the windows. Debbie switched on one of the lamps closest to the bed. We blinked like owls waking up for the night.

  “Where is he?” Debbie whispered.

  “Up here!”

  We both looked up. Ashcroft Benton was on the ceiling.

  “Help me, please. I don’t know what happened. I was down there one minute and up here the next.”

  Benton was wearing running shorts and a tank top as though he’d just come from working out. He kept pushing himself down from the ceiling, but he bounced right back up.

  “What do we do now?” Debbie wrinkled her nose and folded her arms across her chest.

  “I’m not sure. Call Abe. See what he says. I’ll try to get him down.”

  I took a blanket from the bed and tossed a corner of it up to Mr. Benton. He tried to grab it and missed.

  “My arms keep going through it,” he explained. “What’s wrong with me? Is that why you’re here? Did Abe do something to me?”

  “Calm down, Mr. Benton. No one did anything to you,” I told him. “Try to catch the blanket and I’ll pull you down.”

  I tossed the blanket up again and watched carefully. His arms and hands were going right through it—like he was a ghost. I waited after that until Debbie got Abe on the phone.

  “I’ve got him on speaker,” Debbie said.

  “Hello? What’s the problem, Skye?” Abe’s voice was deep and solid in the room.

  “I can’t feel my body,” Mr. Benton yelled out when he heard Abe’s voice. “I can’t hold on to anything. It’s like I’m weightless. Help me. Do something.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Abe declared. “You aren’t weightless, Ash. Whatever you’re doing isn’t going to keep you alive past your time. Come along with the ladies. We’ll figure this out here.”

  I turned the speaker off and put the phone to my ear. “Abe—he’s like a ghost—really. This isn’t something he’s doing. There’s no way he could control this. He’s up by the ceiling, floating in the air.”

  “Trust me. I’ve seen many different ruses down through the years. He’s not a ghost, Skye. Get some rope and pull him down. Let me know when there’s progress.”

  When Abe was gone, I gave the phone back to Debbie.

  “Easy for him to say.” She pocketed the phone. “He’s not here. What are we going to do?”

  “What he says. We can’t leave him. Help me strip the bed. We’ll tie some sheets together for a rope.”

  Mr. Benton kept yelling for help. I hoped his ritzy neighbors didn’t hear him. I didn’t believe we were going to be able to pull him down with the bed sheets or anything else, but Abe’s word was law in these things.

  Had he really turned into a ghost?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Once we got the sheets off the bed, we tied them together to make a large rope. I used to do it all the time when I was a kid and wanted to sneak out of a foster home. I’d seen it once on TV, and after that, I always knew I could get away.

  But it didn’t work with Mr. Benton. Debbie stood on one side of him, and I stood on the other. I tossed the end of the sheet rope to her in an arc that should have gone across him. Instead it went right through him.

  I was beginning to get nervous and a little afraid. Was this something new I had to look forward to in my life that Abe had forgotten to mention?

  “We need a ladder,” Debbie decided. “I’ll go down to maintenance and get one. Whatever this is can’t be real, right? You’ve never seen it before. Abe’s never seen it.”

  “At least he’s not admitting that he’s ever seen it.”

  “For God’s sake, get me down,” Mr. Benton yelled. “I’m not trying to get out of my contract.”

  “Get the ladder,” I agreed. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Mr. Benton kept floating along the ceiling. If he was doing this himself, it was a very good trick. I called Brandon—it wouldn’t hurt to ask what he thought. But he was as mystified by it as we were.

  “So he’s like a ghost?” he asked. “And you’re sure it’s not something he cooked up to get away from honoring his contract?”

  “I don’t see how.” I looked up at Mr. Benton again. “He’s floating,
and everything goes through him. Are you sure this isn’t some zombie virus no one talks about?”

  “Not that I’ve heard about in the last nineteen years. Have we talked about what’s going to happen to me next year?”

  “You’re already at the mortuary, Brandon. I don’t think you need a pick up.”

  “I don’t care. I want you and Debbie to bring me in like other people. I can go hang out at the coffee shop up the street, and you can come for me. Make sure both of you wear as little as possible. I’d like to go out with a thrill.”

  I had to smile. “Whatever you need. I know you must be scared.”

  “Scared? Nah. Not me. Unless I have to turn into a ghost first. See you, Skye.”

  I put away my phone. I should’ve known he wouldn’t have any answers—and if he did—he wouldn’t share them. I wondered who Abe would find to replace him. The two of them always seemed tight.

  “Something is happening,” Mr. Benton said in a shaky voice. “Something else is wrong. I can feel it. What’s going on?”

  As I watched, he went through the ceiling and disappeared. Great. Now what?

  Debbie brought the ladder into the condo as I ran out. “Hey. This thing is heavy. Where are you going?”

  “Mr. Benton vanished. We have to find him.”

  We ran into the hall and called for the elevator. The ride to the seventh floor was tense. How were we going to find him? Would he keep going up until he was out of the building?

  “This is weird,” Debbie said. “It doesn’t make any sense. How did he turn into a ghost?”

  “I don’t know. Abe probably does, but like with the ghouls last year, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s been doing this for more than a hundred years. You know he’s seen everything.”

  Debbie’s phone rang. It was Abe.

  “Where are you now?” he demanded after Debbie had filled him in.

  “We’re trying to find Mr. Benton,” I explained.

  “I’m almost there. Don’t do anything until then.”

  “I guess we’ll just track him?” Debbie asked after she put her phone away as Abe hung up.

  “I guess so. I’m not sure how we’re going to do that. We can’t knock on every door on the seventh floor.”

  But we didn’t have to. Two elderly ladies were moving fast toward the elevator as the door opened on that floor.

  “There’s a ghost in our condo,” one of them said as she stepped into the elevator. “I’m not putting up with it. No rats. No roaches. No ghosts. Come on, Martha. Let’s go see the superintendent.”

  “He knows,” I said spontaneously. “We’re like the Ghostbusters. He sent us up to take care of the problem.”

  The first woman handed me her key. “Good thing. Can you take care of that kitchen sink clog too while you’re in there?”

  Debbie said we could as we ran out of the elevator.

  Mr. Benton was floating around in the living room this time. He’d turned transparent, appearing more ghostlike than before.

  “You two! Get me down from here. I don’t feel very well. I don’t understand this. Abe didn’t say anything about ending up this way. Where is he? Shouldn’t he be here?”

  “You should go down to the lobby and wait for him,” I told Debbie. “One of us should stay with Mr. Benton.”

  “Why me? I got the ladder. I’ll stay with him until you bring Abe.”

  “Because I’m the senior zombie bounty hunter. Get down there.”

  She grumbled but left the condo. I hoped Abe was there. If Mr. Benton got any more see-through, we wouldn’t be able to find him at all.

  He was crying now as he glided across the ceiling. “I wanted to go out with dignity. Why is this happening to me?”

  I noticed that his tears weren’t water. They didn’t fall from his face. It was more like they slid down and froze there.

  “Abe will be here soon. Just hold on, Mr. Benton. It’s going to be all right.”

  I wasn’t so sure that was true, but it made me feel better to say it. I hoped it made him feel better too.

  There was only one more floor in the building. When Mr. Benton disappeared again through the ceiling, I headed up to the floor above me. I called Debbie to let her know where I was. Abe had just arrived with Morris and another man.

  “Probably same thing as before,” I told her. “I’ll try to find him.”

  This time I wasn’t so lucky to catch people running from the ghost as I left the elevator, but I heard screams from the second condo on the floor. I wished it was as easy as taking out my Beretta and shooting something, but a piece of metal meant nothing to this situation as was the case in most of my encounters with other zombies.

  I pounded on the door. A man and woman peeked out. Their faces were filled with terror. They immediately took me up on my offer to handle the situation. As the elevator doors parted for them to leave, Debbie, Abe, Morris, and the other man got off.

  “Where is he, Skye?” Abe asked.

  “In here.” I held the door for him. “He changed. He’s not solid at all anymore. I could barely see him.”

  Abe didn’t speak as he walked by. Morris and the second man that I recognized as another of Abe’s strong arm goons went in immediately after him.

  Debbie followed them. “Abe’s not happy about this.”

  “Neither am I.”

  We walked around the condo, staring up at the ceiling, but now Mr. Benton was hovering in the air between the ceiling and the floor. It seemed that he was losing definition. The outlines of his body were gone. I could see everything on the other side of the room through him.

  “Abe.” His voice was only a whisper. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of this,” Abe assured him.

  He reached out to touch Mr. Benton, but his hand went right through him. I saw him bend his head and mutter a few words of magic. Nothing changed.

  “What happens now?” Mr. Benton asked him.

  “I don’t know, my friend. I believe this is the end, though I don’t understand it. You will go on now as you would have when our tie was severed. I wish I could help you.”

  Abe looked sincere as he always did when he spoke to his workers. It felt to me like he thought of us as his children. It was possible that Lucas was right about him being an evil influence, but he at least acted kind and concerned.

  “Should you cut the silver cord before he disappears completely?” I asked him.

  “I didn’t bring it with me,” Abe said. “I had no idea this was happening.”

  “But we told you,” Debbie said.

  He glared at her, and she was silent.

  Our last sight of Mr. Benton was sad. He appeared to be calling out though he made no sound. He reached out to Abe but couldn’t touch him. A moment later, he vanished. There was nothing left of him.

  Abe immediately collapsed on the floor. Morris and the other man struggled to help him into a chair. They collapsed on the sofa after they got him into it.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Debbie whispered.

  “I think he lost the magic he gave to Mr. Benton to sustain his twenty years. He needed to cut the silver cord to get it back before he was gone.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Abe slowly opened his eyes. He’d lost his ever-present dark glasses when he’d fallen. He snapped his fingers, and Morris retrieved them but not before we saw his white eyes.

  “I’m fine, Debbie. You don’t have to worry. It was but one man—only a small part of my energy and magic. I shall recover.”

  But I could tell she was thinking what I was thinking. If this continued to happen, Abe would lose all of his energy. What would become of us in that event was anyone’s guess.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Abe had Debbie and me gather up all of Mr. Benton’s personal possessions and take them to the tattoo shop. It wasn’t a lot, but I worried that he might have relatives who’d
like them. I hoped Abe would return them when he was done.

  On the other hand, I could see that he needed to find out what had caused Mr. Benton to fade away. I wanted to help in that quest since it had a direct impact on me. I wasn’t ready to give up my time with Kate. There had to be some answer for what had happened.

  “Abe must be thinking there was a curse or spell on Mr. Benton,” Debbie said as we lugged the last of the boxes to the van parked in front of the condo complex. “I’m going home to check all of Terry’s things when we get done. I wouldn’t want him to become a ghost.”

  “I wonder if Abe still had a sorcerer if he could have prevented it.” I closed the back door to the van and nodded to the doorman who’d been watching us. It was getting late again, but we still had to take the boxes to Abe before we could go home for the day.

  “I don’t know,” Debbie said. “But if that’s the case, maybe you could convince Lucas to help him.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I told you how Lucas feels about Abe. He’s not going to help no matter what.”

  “I bet he’d help if something happened to you.”

  “Maybe. I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it.”

  We drove back to Deadly Ink in the sultry evening weather. Traffic was heavy as usual. The rain still hung above us oppressively, but it hadn’t done more than let go of a few drops that splatted on the dusty cars.

  Brandon was at the tattoo shop when we got there. We broke up what looked like a deep discussion between him and Abe as they were closeted in Abe’s office. As soon as they saw us, they opened the door, Morris and a few others got the boxes out of the van.

  “Quite an afternoon,” Brandon said, waggling his brows. “Now I have to look forward to going out as a ghost instead of a zombie.”

  Debbie shuddered at his words. “It was terrible. Don’t talk about it. That poor man.”

  He put his arm around her waist as he stared into her half open tank top at her breasts. “Sorry you had to go through that, honey. I’ve got just the thing for you over at the mortuary.”