“No,” Avery cuts her off immediately.
Brooke looks up from the magazine. “What?”
The sisters have been sitting in this pastel waiting room for the better part of twenty minutes. There’s a black man across from them that keeps giving them a suspicious look, like they were going to jump up and steal his cane.
“I already sat through your ‘Am I Too Sexy?’ quiz,” Avery says, stretching out in her chair.
“And now you know that you, in fact, are not sexy enough,” Brooke says. “You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t say thank you.”
“You were about to,” Brooke says. “I just saved you the trouble.”
“And I am plenty sexy.”
Brooke flips back a few pages in the magazine. “Not according to your score.”
“Why can’t you ever sit in a waiting room without flipping through one of these stupid magazines?” Avery asks her little sister.
“Because I’m easily bored,” Brooke says.
“Hey, you know what?”
“What?” Brooke asks.
“If you had gotten here on time,” Avery says. “We wouldn’t be waiting right now and you wouldn’t be bored.”
“Also, if I had gotten here on time I would have deprived myself of certain delights.”
“Oh, what kind of delights?” Avery asks.
“The delights of a delightful man,” Brooke says. “And that’s all you’re going to get from me.”
“Who were you with last night?”
“I do not kiss and tell.”
Avery frowns. “Since when?”
Brooke shrugs. “Since now. Call it a belated New Year’s resolution.”
“Very belated.”
“Well, we’ve already established I can’t tell time.”
“If it wasn’t Mr. Bow Tie,” Avery muses.
“It was nobody at the bar last night.”
“So you made a booty call,” Avery says.
Brooke squirms in her seat, biting back a smile. “I can assure you; he paid no attention to my booty.”
Avery snaps her fingers. “Steven the bartender.”
Brooke puts the magazine down. “How did you do that?”
“Am I right?”
“Yes, you’re right,” Brooke gives in. “But how are you right.”
“It’s called a sister sense,” Avery says.
Brooke just shakes her head.
“You were also blushing pretty bad at the booty call line,” Avery says.
“It was not a booty call,” Brooke insists.
“Sure it wasn’t,” Avery replies. “What else did you guys do last night other than have sex?”
Brooke sits silent.
“It was a booty call,” Avery says again.
“You’re underestimating the simplistic fun of just having sex,” Brooke replies.
“Please.” Avery waves her off. “Just because I don’t appreciate having sex with faceless strangers doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate having sex.”
Brooke frowns. “I don’t know. You pretty much meet all the requirements for a prude.”
“Not wanting to hear all the salacious details of your sex life, doesn’t mean I’m a prude,” Avery replies.
“You know, you’re the one that brought it up” Brooke says, flipping through the magazine. “Are you sure you’re not trying to live vicariously through me?”
“I don’t need to,” Avery replies. “I have a wonderful boyfriend of my own.”
“He might be wonderful,” Brooke says. “But he is no Steven the bartender.”
Avery scoffs. “I don’t even think Steven the bartender is Steven the bartender.”
Brooke burps. “Is this some kind of existential thing?”
“It’s a kind of I-think-you-probably-have-too-much-to-drink-whenever-you-see-Steven-thing and end up blowing it all out of proportion,” Avery says.
Brooke smiles at her. “Oh, big sister of mine, I pity you.”
Avery raises an eyebrow.
“I pity you,” Brook continues. “Because I was stone cold sober last night and Steven the bartender made me drunk with orgasms all through the night and into the morning.”
Avery makes a soured face. “Please stop.”
Brooke smiles and returns to her magazine. “So, you’re trapped on an island,” She pauses and sneaks a glance at her sister.
“I’m not saying a thing,” Avery comments, watching her out of the corner of her eye.
“I just don’t want to get interrupted again,” Brooke explains.
“And yet, here you are, interrupting yourself,” Avery points out.
Brooke turns back to the magazine. “You’re trapped on an island and you’re allowed three things: one luxury item, one necessity item and one person.” She looks at her sister.
Avery watches two female assistants come back from their lunch break. They’re giggling about some silly story. They step through the door next to the receptionist’s window.
“Well?” Brooke prompts.
“Well what?” Avery asks. “You didn’t ask a question.”
“It was implied,” Brooke says.
“Implied?”
“Within the statement,” Brooke clarifies.
“You realize if you had just simply asked an actual question we could have moved on already.”
Brooke sighs loudly. “Okay. Fine. You’re stranded on an island-”
“I’m pretty sure you can stop repeating the concept,” Avery interrupts. “I’ve got it by now.”
“I wasn’t sure,” Brooke says. “Honestly, you seem like you’re more interested in the strangers walking around here than you are in talking with me.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Avery says. “I shouldn’t let work come between us.” Avery looks at her. “Do you have any idea what we’re doing here?”
“Wasting my time?” Brooke suggests.
Avery reaches over and flicks her sister’s ear.
“Ow,” Brooke holds a hand against her stinging ear.
“A dying man asked us to find his daughter,” Avery says.
“Because you,” Brooke pokes her sister in the chest, “asked him if there was anything we could do before he shuffled free of this mortal coil. So, as far as last requests go, it doesn’t hold a lot of weight when you go fishing for one.”
Avery shakes her head. “It’s called being a human being.”
Brooke makes a face. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that there’s anything in the Human Being manual about fishing for dying men’s requests,” she starts to go back to her magazine and then looks up again. “Actually, you know what, scratch that.”
“And here it comes,” Avery mutters.
“There’s nothing in the reaper manual about fishing for and honoring last requests,” Brooke continues. “And that’s what we are. Grim reapers. We shuffle souls along to the afterlife. We deal with the souls that get cold feet or decide to hang around and haunt their loved ones. We don’t honor dying requests.”
They have a staring contest for a minute and Avery breaks first, turning her gaze back to the receptionist’s window. “You’ve never read the reaper manual.”
Brooke shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I had to read it to get certified.”
“And how many times have you looked at it since then?”
Brooke avoids her sister’s gaze. “I don’t like to reread things. It’s boring.”
“Remind me to bow before your superior knowledge later,” Avery says.
Brooke waves her off. “Whatever. Do your Good Samaritan routine,” she goes back to the magazine. “I don’t know why you had to drag me along.”
“Because we’re partners,” Avery says.
“I still get my share of the bounty whether you drag me along on the Good Samaritan train or not.”
“Not if I’m the one picking up the bounty,” Avery says.
Brooke looks at her sister. “Oh, that’s real mature.” She shakes her
head. “What would you bring to the island?”
Avery frowns. “What?”
“The island you’re trapped on? You’re allowed three things,” Brooke says. “Come on, what are you bringing?”
“Okay, first off,” Avery starts. “A person is not a thing.”
Brooke shakes her head. “This is not a philosophical discussion,” she says. “It’s a stupid quiz in an even stupider magazine.”
“And since you’re the one reading it, what does that make you?” Avery asks.
“A genius,” Brooke replies. “It’s like math. Two negatives make a positive.”
Avery holds up her hand and starts counting off three fingers. “Jack.”
“Oh, come on,” Brooke cuts her off. “It’s a what-if scenario. You don’t bring your doctor boyfriend with you on a what-if scenario.”
Avery looks at her sister and shakes her head. “It’s sad that you think that.”
A blonde enters the waiting room. Brooke points at her. “Hey, is that the girl?”
Avery follows her gaze. “Who?”
“The blonde in the power suit,” she points to the woman standing at the receptionist’s window. She’s dressed in a dark suit and high heels. Her lips are a little too thick, and her chest is a little too big.
Avery smacks her sister’s hand down. She frowns. “Are you being serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Avery pulls the picture out from her pocket. It’s the dead man and his daughter. She’s a vibrant redhead. Avery holds the picture in front of Brooke.
Brooke glances at it. “What?”
“Are you color blind now?”
“Maybe?” Brooke says. “Steven the bartender did things to me that I’m not quite recovered from. I’m still feeling tingles.”
Avery rolls her eyes. “We’re looking for a redhead,” She points to the woman at the reception desk. “That’s a blonde.”
Brooke shrugs. “She might have dyed her hair.
“Judging by the picture, she’s also supposed to be flat as a pancake,” Avery points out.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Brooke says. “Remember Jan Louis?”
“Yes.”
“She barely fills out an A-cup.”
Avery frowns. “She does not.”
Brooke nods her head knowingly. “It’s all padding and push up.”
The sisters stare at the blonde.
“Personally, I would never do that,” Brooke continues. “False advertising.”
“Like the men you’re with ever notice,” Avery replies.
The blonde takes a seat next to the black man. If she notices the sisters staring her, she doesn’t show it.
Avery shoves the picture back in her pocket. “It’s not her.”
Brooke gives a little shrug. “I’m just saying, maybe we can make this a little easier on ourselves.”
“Ms. Graves?” the receptionist calls them.
Avery gets to her feet and walks over to the window.
The receptionist is an older woman, surrounded with cat knickknacks on her desk. “Sorry for the wait,” she says. “The doctor will see you now.”
Doctor Kevin Soong is in his late fifties with a thick, bushy goatee. His hair is mostly gray with flecks of black sprinkled throughout, holdouts from his youth.
He stands as the Graves sisters enter and offers them his hand.
“Sorry we were late,” Avery starts.
“Nonsense,” Soong says. “I’m the one that should be apologizing. It’s not very gentlemanly of me to make you wait all this time.” They all sit down. “I’ve been terribly short staffed ever since my partner went on maternity leave,” he sighs, adjusting the lapels of his white coat. “Can’t be too hard on her, of course, she is having my granddaughter.”
“You practice with your daughter?” Brooke asks.
Soong nods, his chest swelling with pride. “I taught her everything I know,” he smiles. “There is nothing more rewarding than knowing your children will be carrying on your legacy in such a literal way. I built this practice with my bare hands. When I retire it’s all hers and, God willing, my granddaughter will follow in her mother’s footsteps.”
“You must be proud,” Avery says.
“Extremely,” Soong replies. “I don’t mean to brag, but my daughter is probably one of the best family doctors in this city.” He smiles. “Anyway, I don’t think you’re here to listen to me blather on about my pride and joy.”
“You got that right,” Brooke mutters.
Avery discreetly crushes her heel against Brooke’s toes. The younger Graves sister gives a slight squeak, but gets the hint and shuts up.
“My name is Avery Graves and this is my sister,” Avery starts.
Soong interrupts, “My receptionist mentioned that you were private detectives?”
“Something like that,” Avery says, pulling out the photo with the redhead. “We’re looking for the woman in this picture. Her name is Kristen Jones. We believe she used to work for you about six years ago.”
“Oh my goodness, six years ago?” Soong smiles wistfully. “Ms. Graves, I couldn’t tell you the name of the intern I had working here two months ago,” He takes the picture regardless and studies it for a moment. “She certainly looks familiar. What did you say her name was again?”
“Kristen Jones,” Avery replies. “We think she probably would have been a secretary. Near as we can tell she didn’t have any medical experience.”
Soong takes another minute to study the picture.
Brooke tries to catch her sister’s eye. “Dumb idea,” she mouths.
Soong shakes his head and hands the photo back. “I’m sorry, I just don’t remember her. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you looking for her?”
Avery puts the picture away. “Her father recently passed away. Unfortunately, they had been estranged for the last five years. He had no contact information for her and she’s not aware that he’s passed on.”
“Oh, well, that’s just terrible,” Soong says somberly. “Please, extend my condolences to the family,” he pauses and then asks, “How exactly…?”
“Did we trace Kristen back to your practice?” Avery finishes for him. “We found an old pay stub lying around,” she says, not skipping a beat. “We figured it was as good a place as any to start.”
Soong gets to his feet, indicating the meeting’s over. “Well, I really am sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“That’s no problem,” Avery hands him a card. “If you happen to remember anything, please, give us a call.”
“Well, that was a complete waste of time,” Brooke says as they walk back to the pink four door sedan.
“Hey, it was a lead,” Avery says.
“Is it really a lead if it doesn’t lead to anything?” Brooke asks.
Avery stops at the driver’s side of the car. “You know, I’m not sure.”
Brooke nods. “There should be another word for a lead that doesn’t pan out.”
“That actually makes a modicum of sense,” Avery admits. “And I’m not sure how that makes me feel.”
Brooke smiles. “Also,” she starts to get in the car. “It’s double worse since we couldn’t run into this dead end last night.”
“Yeah,” Avery agrees, sliding in behind the steering wheel. “There just was too much anticipation built up for this.”
“Well, I don’t know that I would go with that word,” Brooke says. “You know, I could have gotten a whole ‘nother hour or two with Steven the bartender this morning.”
Avery starts up the car. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you or something?”
“You should if you’re going to live vicariously through me.”
four
The Graves sister’s office is located above a 24 Hour Chinese takeout restaurant. It’s the same office their father used when he was running the family business. The Chinese takeout used to be an Italian takeout and before that it was a nail salon and before
that it was a candy shop where Avery and Brooke wasted away the formidable days of their youth.
Brooke follows Avery up the stairs. “So, we’ve made an effort, right?
“Not really,” Avery says. She stops in front of the office door and fishes out her keys.
“It’s not like we had a lot to go on,” Brooke says as Avery opens the door. “And, clearly, the girl doesn’t want to be found.”
The front room of the office has a leather sofa that looks like it was picked up at a garage sale in Hell. There’s a small desk off to the side where their mother used to sit when she worked as a secretary for their father back in the day. Around the corner there’s a small kitchenette and two other doors.
Avery hangs her jacket up.
“Let me put it to you this way,” Brooke says, trying a different tactic. “I do not want to get kicked out of my apartment.”
“You’re not going to get kicked out of your apartment.” Avery picks up the mail on the floor. Bills, bills and an Avon catalogue.
“That would be true,” Brooke agrees. “Except for one thing.”
“Yeah?” Avery says, dropping the mail on the desk.
“I haven’t paid rent in, like, three months.”
Avery stares at her sister. “Three months?”
Brooke shrugs. “At first, I flashed my landlord a little deep cleavage...”
Avery drops her head into her hands. “I can’t believe this.”
“The next month I made sure to sunbathe on the roof in that bikini I bought,” Brooke continues. “The purple two piece with the strings?”
“I’m familiar with the swimsuit,” Avery says. “Despite the fact that it hardly counts as legal swimwear.”
“And then last month,” Brooke says. “Well, I just didn’t pay rent.”
“And you did what instead?”
“Nothing.”
Avery frowns.
“The landlord’s been giving me dirty looks,” Brooke explains.
“I wonder why...” Avery mutters.
“I mean, there’s a line,” Brooke continues.
“Really? Because this is the first time you’ve mentioned it,” Avery says dryly.
Brooke folds her arms. “I’d just rather pay my rent in cash this month is all.”
Death & Stilettos Page 15