Death & Stilettos

by Jason Krumbine

  “Like any normal person.”

  “Exactly.”

  Avery shakes her head. “I think you missed my sarcasm.”

  “No. I was just ignoring it.”

  “The man wants to see his daughter one more time before he moves on,” Avery says. “Is that too much to ask for?”

  She opens one of the closed doors. There’s a dead man sitting on a bed watching Happy Days reruns.

  Brooke peeks over her sister’s shoulder. “It is when we’re illegally holding him and not turning him over to the afterlife.”

  The dead guy’s name is Daniel Jones. He’s the man in the picture with Kristen Jones. Daniel’s a short man with a dour-looking face and a head rapidly thinning of hair. He seems to have a permanent expression of somebody who’s just been told they’ve got three months to live.

  Daniel’s dressed in the last outfit he’ll ever wear: a blue polo shirt with a tiny alligator stitched over the left breast, a pair of crisp khaki’s and a brown sports coat. His skin is pale and he’s got dark circles surrounding his eyes.

  At 6:30 yesterday morning Daniel Jones walked in on his wife having sex with the neighbor’s pool boy and immediately died of a heart attack.

  Daniel turns and sees the sisters. His expression brightens, although his eyes were still stuck in their downward position.

  Daniel also sees the little stick sigils that have been taped up around the doorway, but he pays them no attention.

  “Did you find her?” he asks. Daniel’s voice has a pitiful whine that’s pitched almost perfectly due to years of practice.

  “No,” Avery starts.

  “Because that wasn’t a real lead,” Brooke cuts in. “How do you not know where your daughter is? Are you trying to win Worst Father of the Year award?”

  Daniel shrinks back and looks like he’s about to burst into tears.

  “Okay, Brooke, why don’t you get us something to drink,” Avery suggests.

  “I’m not thirsty,” Brooke says, leaning against the wall. She gives Daniel the evil eye.

  “Well, I am,” Avery says.

  “Actually, I’m a little parched as well,” Daniel chimes in.

  “You’re also a little dead,” Brooke says. “Do you know what dead people drink?” she pauses for a second, pretending to wait for an answer. “I don’t because I’ve never visited the afterlife, which is where you’re supposed to be.” She turns to Avery. “Look, we know I’m not big on rules.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Avery interjects.

  “But even I think this is a bad idea,” Brooke finishes.

  Avery looks at Daniel. “One moment,” she pushes Brooke back out to the front office. “You need to get on board with this.”

  “No I don’t,” Brooke says. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “It’s not healthy when we don’t present a united front,” Avery says.

  “Please. The guy’s dead,” Brooke says. “We’re not supposed to hang on to the dead souls and not only have we hung on to him, but we’ve been hanging on to him since last night. If we get caught with Danny the Dead Guy here-”

  Avery cuts her off. “We are not going to get caught,” she pauses. “The man just wants to say good-bye to his only daughter. I think it’s the least we can do.”

  “Actually, I think the least we can do is drop him off at the Waiting Room and collect our money,” Brooke says. “That’s the least we can do.”

  “And what if he was our Dad?” Avery asks.

  Brooke folds her arms. “Oh, is that what this is about? Unresolved Daddy issues?”

  “I’m not the one who was busy hooking up with a dirt bag loan shark when Dad died,” Avery replies.

  “That’s right, I was.”

  “That doesn’t help your case,” Avery points out.

  “And I don’t have unresolved Daddy issues,” Brooke says.

  “Please, you have so many unresolved Daddy issues they could write an entire series of family therapy books based on you ,” Avery replies.

  “My point is-” Brooke starts.

  “I was hoping we’d get around to that.”

  “-if I don’t have unresolved Daddy issues, why should you?” Brooke finishes. “Let’s just dump Danny the Dead Guy and call it a day. There’s that mall that opened up downtown. They’ve got a Suzy’s Shoe store and soft pretzels.”

  “Why would a Suzy’s Shoe store sell soft pretzels?”

  “They don’t,” Brooke says. “The mall does. Come on, girl’s day out. My treat.”

  “With what money?”

  “The money that I’m going to get when we turn in Danny the Dead Guy,” Brooke says, tracing out a circle in the air. “See what I did there? Brought it all back around.”

  Avery shakes her head. “No.”

  “Come on.”

  Avery pretends to think about it for a moment and then says, “No.”

  Brooke sighs. “Well, at least you gave the illusion of considering my opinion this time.”

  “And I think we can call that progress,” Avery says.

  Brooke rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’m going downstairs. Chang owes me a free meal.”

  five

  Avery grabs a chair and sits down across from Daniel, who’s still on the bed. It’s a twin-sized bed. It was once a place for their father to crash when he worked late nights.

  But that was then and this was now.

  Now it’s an empty spare room with boxes along the walls and furniture covered in a layer of dust.

  “Daniel,” Avery starts. She’s got a notepad resting on her leg and a pen in hand, but her attention’s focused on the dead man. “I want to help you. I really do. But you need to help us. Dr. Soong didn’t remember your daughter, so we need something else. Tell me about her.”

  Daniel sighs, looking down at his hands, like the answers to his problems were written in his palms.

  “She stopped talking to me when I remarried,” Daniel says. “Kristen didn’t like Shelly from the moment she met her. I didn’t listen to her, of course. All I knew was that I had been so lonely since Kristen’s mother died and now, for the first time in years, another woman was finally interested in me,” he looks at Avery. “Are you married?”

  “No,” Avery says. “Boyfriend, though.”

  Daniel nods absently and his gaze drifts away. “It’s different after you’ve been married for almost twenty years. In an instant my partner, my best friend was gone. I was old and I had a sixteen-year-old daughter. Who would even want me?” He pauses, caught in a sad memory. “Then Shelly came along. And Kristen hated her. I didn’t care. A woman was finally interested in me. Kristen was turning twenty, and I wasn’t getting any younger. The next thing I knew, Shelly and I were getting married and my daughter was gone and I had no idea where she went.”

  He looks at Avery. “Was I a horrible person?”

  Avery hesitates before answering. “I can’t really say, Daniel,” she says. “You did what you felt you had to do.”

  If Daniel hears her, he doesn’t show it. “And, you know, I thought it was worth it. I had raised my daughter. It was time for her to be on her own anyway. I had needs, you know? And for five years, it was worth it. Shelly was a remarkable woman, or so I thought,” he sighs. “And then, I walked in on that bitch having sex with Raul,” he falls silent for a moment. He looks at Avery. “I think she might have only married me for my money.”

  Avery waits a minute, staring at Daniel. She asks, “What money?”

  “I had a net worth of fifty million dollars,” he says.

  Avery chokes on her own spit. “How much?”

  Daniel looks genuinely confused. “What?”

  “You lived in a duplex on Carter Street,” Avery says. “Two blocks from the Y.”

  Daniel shrugs. “I was a very simple man.”

  Avery just stares at the dead man. “Simple?”

  “Ms. Graves,” Daniel starts.

  “Call me Avery,” she interrupts.
>
  Daniel nods. “Avery, there’s a stipulation in my will. Kristen is supposed to get everything. If she doesn’t show up to claim her inheritance within forty-eight hours of my death, Shelly assumes control of my entire estate.”

  “That’s an odd stipulation to have in your will,” Avery says.

  “Shelly insisted she was marrying me for love,” Daniel replies. “And I believed her. I made my fortune with my first wife, Kristen’s mother. I thought it was only fair that if anything happened to me, Kristen should receive it all.”

  “And Shelly was okay with this?”

  “Well, honestly, I thought at the time she was,” Daniel says. “But finding her screwing Raul…” he shrugs. “I’m not so sure now.”

  Avery makes a note. “So, what you’re saying is, Shelly’s not going to want Kristen found.”

  “Nor is she going to make any effort to find her,” Daniel adds.

  Avery taps her pen against the notepad. “Daniel, there must be something else. Some kind of communication between you and Kristen.”

  He shakes his head. “She just left. I’ve tried looking for her a few times but every private investigator I hired came back empty handed.”

  “What about this Doctor Soong?” Avery asks. “Why send us there?”

  A blank expression passes across Daniel’s face for a brief second. “She was working there at the time she disappeared,” he says. He looks pleadingly at Avery. “Honestly, I have no idea where she could be.”

  Avery gets to her feet. “Well, I’m not going lie, Daniel, it’s not looking good.”

  “Ms. Graves,” Daniel grabs her by the wrist. “Avery. I just want to say good-bye to her. Please. Help me find her.”

  Brooke is in the 24 Hour Chinese restaurant, sitting at the counter bar, wrestling with chopsticks, when Avery comes in.

  “I hate chopsticks,” Brooke says as her sister grabs the stool next to her.

  “And yet, you eat here at least once day,” Avery observes.

  “They’re a sin against nature,” Brooke continues, holding the chopsticks in front of her.

  “That’s a little extreme,” Avery says.

  “You know why you never see a fat Asian?” Brooke asks.

  “Okay, so this is going to be a racist thing?”

  “Because it’s impossible to actually grab any reasonable amount of food with these stupid pieces of wood.” She knocks the chopsticks together. “Completely impossible.”

  “Again, very racist,” Avery points out. “And, also, Jimmy is a slightly overweight Asian.”

  “Our Asian Jimmy?”

  “How many Asian Jimmy’s do you know?”

  Brooke holds up three fingers. “Three. And our Asian Jimmy is not Asian.”

  “He’s Chinese,” Avery says.

  “He is not.”

  “Oh, yes he is,” Avery insists. “Third generation.”

  “American-Chinese,” Brooke clarifies. “The man eats more hamburgers than anyone I know. He doesn’t count.” She snaps the chopsticks together in her sister’s face. “Evil, evil, evil things.”

  “And yet, again, here you are,” Avery points out. “Eating their food.”

  “It’s not my fault.” She manages to grab a few noodles and shove them into her mouth. “I think they put something in here.”

  “Something?”

  “Yeah,” Brooke says, slurping the noodles down. “Something addictive.”

  “Okay,” Avery nods her head. “So you’re not actually being serious.”

  “I have no self-control.”

  “No one’s going to argue with you over that,” Avery agrees. “Anyway, you’re not going to believe what I found out.”

  “Our dead guy has a twin brother,” Brooke says, her mouth full of noodles and rice.

  “No.”

  “He had a twin sister.”

  “No.”

  “He has a twin dog?”

  Avery looks at her sister. “What is with the twin thing?”

  Brooke shrugs and points at the TV playing in the corner. “They’ve been playing some stupid soap opera where the guy’s dead twin brother reappears.”

  Avery rubs her eyes. “Our dead guy’s rich.”

  Brooke stops chewing. “How rich?”

  “Fifty million dollars rich.”

  Brooke spits out her rice. “Are you serious?”

  Avery nods.

  “We found him in that stupid duplex,” Brooke says. “He was living there.”

  “He says he’s a simple man,” Avery says.

  “If by simple you mean retarded,” Brooke says, picking up her chopsticks again, “then I absolutely agree. Did you get anything useful out of him?”

  “Two things,” Avery says. “One, as long as Kristen shows up within the next forty-eight hours, she gets her father’s inheritance. All fifty million dollars.”

  “Whoopie-de-doo for her,” Brooke slurps up a noodle.

  “Two,” Avery continues, “Daniel’s looked for her before.”

  “And with his fifty million dollars he couldn’t find her?”

  “Nope.”

  Brooke stops eating and looks at her sister. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” Avery says. “Third, if Kristen doesn’t come forward, Daniel’s current wife gets the entire estate.”

  Brooke finishes chewing her mouthful of noodles slowly. “So, a rich guy can’t find his estranged daughter.”

  “You see where I think this is going,” Avery says.

  “Kristen’s dead,” Brooke finishes.

  “It certainly seems that way,” Avery says.

  “Or she’s really good at hiding herself.”

  “Fifty million dollars isn’t anything to sneeze at,” Avery thinks out loud. “It could buy someone several very competent private investigators.”

  “And if all of those very competent private investigators come up empty handed,” Brooke adds.

  “Then maybe there isn’t anyone to find,” Avery finishes.

  Brooke finishes her noodles and rice. “You say any of this to the dead guy?”

  “Of course not,” Avery says. “Why would I do that?”

  “To crush his hopes and dreams so we can dump him off at the Waiting Room and collect our bounty,” Brooke says. “Why should we waste our time looking for somebody who’s probably dead?”

  “We don’t know for certain she’s dead,” Avery says. “And I want to help this guy,” she points at her sister, “You should, too.”

  Brooke grabs a fortune cookie from the bowl on the counter. “Well, maybe after this we can go on a quest to visit the wizard and see if he can spare me a heart. We’re asking for trouble hanging onto this dead guy.”

  “The dead guy’s got a name,” Avery says.

  “No names. Then it’s like a pet,” Brooke says. “I don’t want to get attached to it.”

  “We’ve got containment sigils around the door and the window,” Avery says. “Those’ll keep Daniel in place.”

  “And what if Russell comes around asking about why we haven’t dropped off the dead guy?” Brooke asks.

  “Russell is not going to come looking for some guy who happened to die of a heart attack,” Avery says. “There’s a forty-eight hour window for Kristen to claim her inheritance. If we don’t find her in twenty-four hours, we’ll drop it and get Daniel to the Waiting Room.”

  Brooke studies her sister for a minute. “And you’re worried about my bad habits.” She slides off the stool and Avery follows her back out onto the street. Brooke cracks open her fortune cookie. “A secret admirer will soon send you a sign of affection,” she reads aloud.

  “You forgot the ‘in bed’ part,” Avery says as they head back up the stairs.

  “A secret admirer will soon send you a sign of affection,” Brooke reads again. “In bed. Oooh, kinky.” She thinks about it for a minute. “I don’t know if I have any secret admirers right now.”

  “That’s what makes them secret,” Avery points ou
t. “Besides, I would think your hands are kind of full with Steven the Bartender.”

  Brooke frowns. “Not as full as I’d like.”

  “Oh?” Avery asks. “Is he losing his shine?”

  “No,” Brooke says. “He’s just not as big as I’d like.”

  “You mean...?”

  “Yes, his dick,” Brooke says. “You shouldn’t be afraid of that word.”

  “I’m not afraid of it,” Avery replies. “I’m afraid of the way you make it sound.”

  “I like my men with a little more girth,” Brooke continues.

  “Please stop.”

  “He’s got a talented tongue, there’s no denying that,” Brooke says. “But a woman can’t live on oral sex alone, you know what I mean?”

  “I’ve stopped listening to you,” Avery says, opening the door to their office.

  There’s a nebbish fellow of an indeterminate age, somewhere between thirty and forty, waiting for the sisters as they enter their office. He’s got glasses that are always sliding down the bridge of his nose and a taste for button down short sleeve shirts.

  His name is Steve Russell and he’s the local representative for the Council of Reapers. He’s exactly the Russell they didn’t want showing up at their office.

  Avery covers a nervous check of the spare room door with a cough. The door’s closed.

  “You left your office unlocked,” Russell says. He’s got a nasally, dry voice.

  “Yeah, we ran downstairs for some food,” Avery explains.

  Russell wrinkles his nose and his glasses slide down a bit. “You really shouldn’t do that.”

  “Eat?” Brooke asks.

  “Leave your office unlocked,” Russell says. “It’s dangerous.”

  “It’s a pretty safe neighborhood,” Avery says, stepping forward to position herself between Russell and the spare room.

  Russell frowns. “I saw a woman get mugged three blocks from here.”

  “Well, it’s safe for us,” Brooke chimes in. “We’re the creepy grim reaper ladies.”

  “What can we do for you, Russell?” Avery asks.

  Russell pushes his glasses back up his nose. “I have another bounty for you,” he holds up the manila envelope in his left hand.