"No, you saying the word, 'penis' hurts," Brooke makes a face. "You make it sound so unattractive. Is this what happens when you date a doctor? Because I don't remember you being this clinical before Jack."
"We're not talking about Jack," Avery replies. "We're trying to get to the root of your reasoning for getting back together with Stanley."
"Why can't it be just because I like him?" Brooke asks.
"Because if that was the case," Avery says, "why did you cheat on him as much as you did the first time around?"
Brooke’s mouth flaps open and closed like a fish gasping for water.
“That’s what I thought,” Avery replies.
Brooke frowns. “Please. Why don’t you come down from your ivory tower and we’ll talk.”
“Why would I do that?” Avery asks. “Life is good in my ivory tower.”
“Yes, but the air up there is so thin, you’re going crazy,” Brooke says. “That’s your problem. You need more oxygen.”
Avery points at her sister. “You’ve still got Steven the bartender on the side.”
“I do not.”
“Who’d you go home with after Bernie and Stacy’s wedding?”
Brooke makes a strained face and answers, “Stanley.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Brooke shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s between you and yourself.”
Avery suddenly smiles and leans across the table. “You want to know a secret?”
Brooke makes a face like a fart just drifted up her nostrils. “Not if it’s going to be something disgusting.”
“Why would you think it’s something disgusting?”
“Because of the grin on your face. A person only grins like that when they to show you a dead rat or something.”
“I know who Mom wants to set you up with.” Avery leans back and let’s it sink in for a moment.
Brooke tries to shrug it off. “So? Whatever.”
“You don’t want to know who it is?”
Brooke tilts her head to the side and says, “I do not want to know who it is.”
“You don’t sound very sure of yourself,” Avery observes.
“That’s because I’m not.” Brooke gives in, throwing her hands up. “Who is it?”
Avery smiles again.
“What?” Brooke asks. “Tell me?”
“Bobby D’Angelo.”
Brooke’s mouth drops open and just hangs there.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Avery says.
“Bobby D’Angelo?” Brooke repeats. “Are we talking about the same man?”
“We are.”
“The same man that looked like-like,” she stutters, lost for words suddenly. “He looked like an angel back in high school.”
“The very same.”
Brooke shakes her head. “No. I don’t believe it. He must be fat or something.”
“Well, I can’t say anything about his appearance,” Avery admits. “But Mom does say he’s an accountant.”
“An accountant?” Brooke scoffs. “Oh yeah, he’s fat now. No thanks. I’ll pass.”
“I don’t know,” Avery says, finishing off her water. “Sounds like Mom has high hopes for the two of you.”
“High hopes?”
“Very high,” Avery says. “M-word high.”
“M-word?”
“M-word.”
Brooke’s expression turns to one of determination. “Then I’m definitely not meeting him.”
“What if he still looks like he did in high school?” Avery asks.
Brooke’s saved from answering when a shadow falls across their table.
“You know,” Thane Grym says. “I stood over at the bar,” he points over his shoulder, “for a good ten minutes wondering if it was safe to come over here.”
“And you figure it’s safe now?” Brooke asks playfully.
Thane shrugs. “Well, you two look like you’re closer to giggling with each other than strangling each other.”
Avery avoids looking at him. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”
The air around the table turns cold.
“Yeah, no, I didn’t want to interrupt your night,” Thane says awkwardly. He pulls a check from his pocket. “I owe you this, though.”
Avery doesn’t reach for the check so Thane sets it down on the table.
“You didn’t need to do that,” she says.
“It’s your half.”
“I didn’t really do anything.”
“You kept me company,” Thane replies. “That’s got to be worth something.”
Avery doesn’t respond.
Brooke looks back and forth between them, completely clueless.
Thane nods. “Okay. Well, I’ll let you ladies get back to it.” He smiles at Brooke. “See you around.”
Brooke watches him walk away, focusing on his ass, mostly. Once he’s out of earshot she turns back to Avery.
“Okay, what the hell was that all about?” she asks.
“Nothing,” Avery says, pocketing the check.
“No,” Brooke shakes her finger at Avery. “I’m pretty sure that was something. What happened?”
Avery focuses on finishing her salad. “I helped him out with a reaping last night.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep.”
Brooke munches on a french fry. “That it?”
“That’s it.”
Brooke nods her head. “Okay, but I’m supposed to spill my guts about Stanley and anyone else I happen to be sleeping with?”
“Well,” Avery looks at her sister with a smile. “In fairness, that’s what you normally do.”
Brooke frowns. “If something happened between you and Thane last night I should know about.”
“How do you figure that?”
She throws her hands up. “How could you not tell me? This thing between you and Thane is your basic Unresolved Sexual Tension. If it was resolved, I need to know.”
“You don’t need to know.”
“So something definitely happened last night?” Brooke asks.
“I’m not saying anything.”
Brooke twirls a french fry around in her fingers. “Weren’t you and Jack supposed to have some kind of special date night last night?”
“We were,” Avery replies, focusing on her salad.
“But instead you were out reaping with Thane?”
Avery doesn’t respond.
“What happened to Jack?” Brooke asks.
“He got stuck at the hospital,” Avery says simply.
“So, you went with your back-up?”
Avery looks at her sister in disgust. “Thane is not my back-up.”
“What is he then?”
“Nothing,” Avery replies.
“Nothing?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Avery says.
Brooke tears off half of the fry in her mouth. “Uh-huh. And what happened between you and Thane last night?”
“Nothing.”
“Lot of nothing going on here,” Brooke says.
“Sure is,” Avery agrees.
Brooke smirks. “Not so fun being on the other end of the interrogating sister, is it?”
“No,” Avery agrees. “But, I take solace in the fact that Thane isn’t a dirt bag who I owe a couple thousand to.”
“Ah-ha!” Brooke smiles, smacking the table. “So something did happen last night!”
Avery tilts her head to the side. “And how did you pull that from what I said?”
Brooke shrugs. “I didn’t,” she admits. “I was just hoping to trip you up.”
“You’re too kind.”
“It’s a gift,” Brooke says, ignoring the sarcasm.
nineteen
Against their better judgment it’s after dark when the Graves sisters return to Lori Stanford’s home.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Brooke says as Avery parks the car. “As if it wasn’t creepy enough being here in the middle of
the day.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Avery asks.
“Yeah, tell Mom and Lori that there’s no hope and burn the house down.”
Avery shakes her head. “I don’t even know why I bother asking.”
“What’s wrong with my idea?”
“Well, the first problem is that you have to ask what’s wrong,” Avery replies.
Brooke points to the window in the upper left corner of the house. “Look, somebody left the lights on,” she says. The curtains are closed. All they can see is a yellow glow pouring out from the room.
Avery scans the street. It’s mostly empty as all of the residents have parked in their own driveways.
“I know it’s been awhile since I’ve read the reaper manual,” Brooke says. “But ghosts don’t need lights, do they?”
Avery drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “Nope. I don’t think they do.” She watches the house for a moment. “Mom said Lori tried to come by last night.”
“Why? She not have enough to fear in her life?”
“I don’t know.”
“You think she left the light on?”
“Probably not,” Avery says. “According to Mom all the doors were locked. Lori couldn’t get her keys to work.”
“Well...”
“Yeah,” Avery agrees.
“So, what do you want to do?”
“Go home to my boyfriend and call it a night,” Avery replies.
“I thought Jack was working tonight?” Brooke asks.
“Good point,” Avery says. “Might as well go inside and poke around.” She gets out of the car.
“Okay, that’s not what I meant,” Brooke says, following her sister.
Whatever kept the doors locked isn’t keeping them locked now. The locks give way to the house key and the doors open easily. Inside, the smell of freshly baked cookies is overwhelming.
Avery hears a loud grumbling noise coming from behind her. She looks back at her sister. “Seriously?”
Brooke shrugs sheepishly. “Those cookies smell really good.”
Avery shakes her head. She glances into the living room on their way to the stairs. All the furniture is still flipped over and a mess.
“Trust me,” she says, “you don’t want to eat these cookies.”
Brooke’s stomach rumbles again
“There are no cookies,” Avery repeats.
“I heard you’re the first time,” Brooke says. “I can’t help the noises my stomach makes.” Brooke follows her sister up the stairs. “Wasn’t there a blood message here earlier?” she taps the stairwell wall.
“Yeah,” Avery replies. “How about that.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Brooke murmurs.
The hallway on the second floor is fairly short. They can see the entire length of it from the stairs. There are three doors. Directly across from them is the bathroom. To their right is an open bedroom door, presumably Lori’s room. And to their left is a door partially closed, light spilling out from the open crack.
Avery raps her tapping stick against the floor. There’s no response.
“You know, I’m kind of missing that black box now,” Brooke whispers.
Avery takes a step towards the room. She nudges the bedroom door open with her foot.
The light’s coming from a fixture on the fan. There are three bulbs, but one of them is blown out. It’s clearly a guest bedroom. There’s a small double bed, and a dresser. In the corner next to the closest there’s a small, clutter-free desk.
“No cookie smell,” Avery mutters, letting her gaze wander over the room.
“What was that?” Brooke asks.
“No cookie smell,” Avery repeats louder. The bed is neatly made. Nobody’s slept in it for months.
“No cookie smell?” Brooke echoes. “What do you think that mean?”
Avery turns around to face her sister. “I don’t know. Why don’t you come in here and help me figure it out.”
Brooke shakes her head, not moving from the stairs. “Nope. I’m perfectly happy out here.”
“Brooke,” Avery starts.
“It’s called being a lookout,” Brooke cuts her off.
“Oh? And what exactly are you looking out for?”
“Myself,” Brooke replies. “I don’t want to trip over you if I have to make a mad dash for the door.”
Avery shakes her head. “You’re a testament to grim reapers everywhere.” She turns back to the room.
“I know your words are supposed to hurt, but I’m taking them as a compliment,” Brooke says, eyeing the shadows in the bathroom. “So, thank you.”
Avery doesn’t bother to reply.
“So if Lori couldn’t get in here, you think somebody else could?” Brooke asks.
“I don’t know,” Avery replies, checking the closet. “If somebody else did get in the house, why come into the guest bedroom? Nobody’s used this place in months.”
“Gamboa?”
“That would be my first guess.”
“Maybe trying to cover his tracks?” Brooke suggests.
“Assuming there were tracks to cover.”
“Maybe we should have poked around some more the first time we were here,” Brooke says. “You know, during the day.”
“Maybe,” Avery agrees. Something catches her eye on the floor. She crouches down next to the bed and pulls out a gray piece of plastic that’s half under the bed. It’s about two inches long and an inch wide, ending in a small hooked curve. One side is very flat and smooth. The other side is less polished, with little ridges. There are notches along the edges and a number on the polished side.
“Did you find something?” Brooke asks. From the stairs she can partially see her sister crouching next to the bed. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the shadows in the bathroom move again. Brooke whips her head around, but nothing looks out of the ordinary in the bathroom. “Hey, Avery, I think we need to leave.”
“We haven’t found anything yet,” Avery replies.
“Yeah, well, I’m almost ninety percent certain I saw the shadows moving out here,” Brooke says.
“I’m willing to work with a ten percent possibility that you’re wrong,” Avery says, peeking under the bed. There’s nothing else under there.
“Just so you know,” Brooke says, watching the bathroom carefully, “what we have here is the beginning of an ‘I told you so’ situation. Not unlike the thing in Burlank Mall.”
Avery gets to her feet. “That was me saying ‘I told you so’ to you.”
“The principle still stands,” Brooke spares a quick glance at her sister in the room. “Seriously, can we please go?”
Avery frowns. “Last week you were hitting on a dead man. Now you’re scared of some shadows?”
“I’ve always been scared of shadows,” Brooke says, turning her attention back to the bathroom. “Especially shadows that don’t resemble a male underwear model.”
“Do you still smell the cookies?”
“What?”
“The cookies,” Avery repeats. “Do you still smell them?”
Brooke sniffs the air. “Yeah. So, what?”
Avery looks around the room again. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I,” Brooke says. “That’s why I keep saying we should leave.”
“What was Gamboa doing here?”
“We don’t actually know that Gamboa was here to begin with,” Brooke points out. She blinks. One of the shadows in the bathroom has moved again. “Avery…”
“Quiet,” Avery says. “I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking,” Brooke mutters. “I’m fearing for my very life here and you’re thinking.”
Avery turns around, looking for the light switch. She finds it next to the door and flicks the fan light off.
Darkness fills the room.
“Now why would you go and do that?” Brooke asks, her eyes straining to find her sister in the darkness.
“Because sometimes you can s
ee things better in the dark,” Avery replies, turning in a slow circle.
“Okay, that makes a lot of sense,” Brooke says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Now the only light in the hallway is the moonlight spilling in from the bathroom window. Chewing on her lower lip, Brooke tries to connect the shadows to their objects.
There’s one shadow Brooke can’t account for.
“Okay, that’s creepy,” she says.
“What?” Avery asks.
“There’s definitely something else in this house,” Brooke says. “There’s, like, one too many shadows in the bathroom.”
Avery’s eyes have adjusted to the darkness. There’s a milky haze that’s spread across the walls of the guest room. “One too many shadows, huh?”
“Avery?” Brooke’s voice sounds a little shaky.
“Yeah?”
“I can’t smell the cookies anymore.”
Avery shoves the piece of plastic into her pocket and rushes out of the room. “Time to go.”
“Thank you,” Brooke starts down the stairs, two at a time.
Avery’s following close behind her sister when it starts.
A low rumble rolls through the house.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Brooke explains. “I told you so!”
Avery takes a moment to smack her sister upside her head.
The low rumble turns into a shrieking howl that shatters the windows upstairs.
The house shakes. Brooke trips, almost falling down the remaining steps.
Avery catches her at the last second. “Don’t look back!” she shouts.
“Wasn’t planning on it!” Brooke shouts back, racing past the living room. She catches a brief look out of the corner of her eye. The furniture is rolling around, as though giant, invisible hands were playing dice with each piece. Red blood is oozing out of the pores of the walls.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Brooke exclaims, jumping out through the front door. She hits the ground rolling away from the house.
Avery flinches as the front door slams closed behind her. The house groans loudly.
Avery jumps off the front porch and looks back. There’s a faint shriek from deep inside Lori Stanford’s home and then the house settles back down.
It’s quiet once again.
Brooke gets to her feet, brushing the dirt from her pants. “Hey, Avery?”
Avery looks at her sister.
“I told you so.”
Death & Stilettos Page 38