Dead People

by Edie Ramer

  “What’s good for healing hearts?” she asked.

  “Yours is broken? Join the crowd.” His gesture took in the crowd. “This is Wisconsin. Wisconsin natives don’t need water, they’ve got beer.”

  “I’ll remember that next time I brush my teeth.”

  Snickering, he headed to the bar and left her to watch the crowd. It looked like half the town was gathered inside, waiting for the game to start. She even recognized the elderly librarian and a nurse from the Dr. Rudolf’s clinic. Yet more people were streaming in.

  Kurt came back with Diane and Wendy, two thirtyish women who sat at their table. Diane said she taught third grade, and Wendy said her daughter was a third grader in Diane’s class.

  They knew about Cassie already. Their eyes avid, they asked about Isabel. She told them the confidentiality clause in her contract barred her from saying anything about her current job. Nodding their understanding, they asked her about heaven.

  “Can’t tell you that either. Not having died.”

  “Don’t be so selfish,” said Diane, a thin woman with a narrow nose and an overbite.

  Cassie’s stepmother had a narrow nose and an overbite. “heaven is what everyone thinks it will be.” She paused. “And more.”

  Wendy, a soft-looking blonde, squealed and asked another question. Cassie groaned inwardly, berating herself for lying. What had she been thinking? Now she had two choices: Tell the two women she’d lied and look foolish, or lie again.

  She lied again.

  A buzz traveled through the bar. People gathered around their table. Even Tricia and Darleen hovered as people asked her questions.

  After the first beer, she told them flowers sang in heaven. After the second beer, she thought maybe she should go back to her room, but Kurt was at the bar getting another beer and the librarian asked her about streets of gold, greed sharpening the planes of her face.

  Cassie had been asked this question before. It always seemed odd, because what good was gold to a dead person? But she answered that people walked on sidewalks made of rainbows and authors were treated like kings and queens. The librarian raised her eyebrows with disbelief, but the corners of her wrinkled lips turned up.

  Kurt came back with more drinks for both of them. What a great guy! All men were wonderful.

  After finishing the third beer, she told the group that childhood pets ran free in heaven. Tears escaped an elderly man’s eyes. He leaned over the table and talked about Smokey, the best damn duck hunting dog ever.

  Another woman grabbed a napkin and blew her nose.

  This was fun! Cassie should have done something like this a long time ago. Everyone liked her.

  Then the game started and she wasn’t the center of attention anymore. A good thing because her body was burning up. The last time she’d felt this hot she’d been naked in Luke’s studio. She fanned herself with a napkin and glanced around, but none of the sweatshirt-clad patrons seemed to notice the heat. Her pulse speeded too. Her head spun slowly, as though her brains were rotating inside her head, and she laid her palm on the table to stop herself from tumbling off the chair onto the floor.

  Normally one beer was her limit, but three shouldn’t affect her this badly.

  Maybe her body was punishing her for lying.

  Oh God, now her stomach felt yucky. As though fire ants were holding a convention inside her abdomen. Every second she felt worse, a screw turning inside of her belly, tighter and tighter. The pain was worse than when she got her period. Worse than her first roller coaster ride when she threw up on her father’s shoes. Worse than—

  She clapped a hand over her mouth and shoved Kurt out of her way. As she staggered to the bathroom she heard a few laughs directed at her. She didn’t care. All she cared about was finding a toilet and—

  Shoving open the bathroom door, she sprinted into the first of the two empty stalls and bent forward, making it just in time.

  Instead of feeling better, she became sicker. Ten minutes later the nurse from the clinic came in. “Someone told me you’re sick.”

  Huddled on the floor next to the toilet, holding onto her stomach, Cassie looked up. The small motion set off a wave of pain in her stomach. Beads of sweat popped up on her skin. She was on fire from the inside out.

  “I’m dying,” she whispered.

  The nurse knelt down and took her wrist, holding it and looking at her watch. She paled as she dropped it, but Cassie was riding another wave of pain. They were coming faster, closer, lasting longer. Her body burned like a funeral pyre. Her funeral pyre. She heard the nurse open the bathroom door and yell for someone to call 911.

  By the time the paramedics ran into the bathroom stall, she puked everything she had in her into the toilet.

  The paramedics carried her out on a stretcher, and through the layers of pain she was vaguely conscious of a corridor of people watching them. The paramedic asked what she ate and if she took any drugs. At the hospital, after a trip that took ages while she moaned and held onto her stomach, the nurse and then the doctor asked the same thing.

  Hours passed. At first she thought she was dying, then she hoped she was, then she was sorry she was still alive.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Cassie no longer wanted to die, though her eyes were crusted as she opened them to strains of morning light that seeped into the sterile hospital room. The back of her hand smarted, a needle stuck into it attached to an IV. Every muscle in her body ached, and her mouth was as dehydrated as Death Valley in August.

  “I shouldn’t have left you.” Joe floated by her bedside.

  She tried to talk, and a sound like a sick frog came out of her mouth. She swallowed several times. “What could you have done?” she whispered.

  “Protected you.”

  “From what? A bad turkey meal at the diner?” She saw a glass of water on the tray next to her. It took her at least two minutes to lift it to her mouth and sip enough to clear the dust from her throat. Every small movement brought an ache to her body. She felt as if she’d tumbled down a steep and rocky hill and landed in hell.

  “From poison,” Joe said.

  “What?” Her croak ended in a squeak. Did he think that was funny? Joe joked more than anyone she knew, dead or alive. And he specialized in bad jokes, so this would be perfect for him.

  His usual “got you” grin didn’t appear. Instead his brow remained furrowed, and he was a shade bluer than normal, radiating concern. “I heard the nurses gossiping. They have orders to call the Sheriff when you wake up.”

  She whimpered, hating the sound. Like a sick kitten instead of a strong woman.

  “It wasn’t your turkey sandwich. No one else got sick. They tested the contents of your stomach and found something that heart patients take. If you’re not a heart patient, it can kill you.”

  She clamped her mouth shut to stop another whimper.

  “Who wants you dead?” he asked.

  Voices came from the hall as she shook her head.

  “No one,” she whispered. Not even her stepmother would kill her...although if someone else killed her, a bottle of Dom might be uncorked in the Grosse Point suburb where her father and stepmother resided.

  Kurt? He’d invited her to the bar. He bought her beers. He wanted to look at the house.

  But how would her death benefit him?

  Oh God. She was considering it. She believed it. Someone really did try to kill her.

  A man in a deputy’s uniform walked in with a muscular nurse who looked as if she could bench press Cassie. Joe vanished but Cassie felt his presence.

  “You’re awake.” The nurse checked her pulse and held the glass of water to her face to allow Cassie to easily sip from the straw, for which Cassie silently blessed her. The nurse asked if she needed help to go to the bathroom and Cassie shook her head. No need to use the bathroom. She felt empty all the way down to her toes.

  The nurse nodded at the deputy, and he stepped forward, his face smooth, not one line, and Cassie
wondered if he were old enough to vote.

  The nurse put her hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “If you feel tired or don’t want to talk, just tell Deputy Powers and he’ll leave.” She removed her hand and Cassie wanted to cry at the loss of the impersonal comfort. “Is that understood?” The nurse glared at the deputy.

  He gulped. “Er, yes, understood. Last night, you told the doctors you don’t take any, er, medications. Do you want to change that, er, statement?”

  “No,” she croaked.

  “Are you, er, certain?”

  Joe appeared behind the deputy, rolling his eyes.

  Cassie held back a giggle and it hurt. She indicated to the deputy she wanted more water. In his rush to give it to her, he tilted it too far, the straw, ice chips and cold water spilling onto her cotton hospital gown.

  Joe disappeared, silently laughing as the deputy apologized profusely and nervously. Stuttering apologies, the deputy grabbed a wad of Kleenexes and wiped the spilled water and shards of ice from her front. Cassie didn’t think he was using the incident as an excuse to cop a feel, but she slapped the deputy’s hand away from her breasts, envying Joe for being able to leave.

  Then Cassie remembered... She’d almost joined him.

  She shuddered, no longer envious.

  Aching all over and having ice water poured on your chest was still better than death.

  ***

  “Go away,” Luke muttered to the male voice that kept telling him to wake up.

  “Get up now.”

  The next words Luke muttered weren’t nearly so polite.

  “Someone poisoned Cassie. Gave her an overdose.”

  “What?” Luke sat straight up in his king-sized bed, his covers sliding down his naked chest. He found himself staring into the face of Cassie’s ghost friend.

  “Where is she?” He threw aside the covers and jumped out in his black boxers.

  “Hospital.”

  “Is she...” He swallowed, unable to finish.

  “She’s weak but recovering.”

  Relief shuddered through him, but he kept his gaze on the ghost. What the hell was his name? Joe, that was it.

  “Who poisoned her?”

  “I thought you’d tell me.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Something’s going on between you and her.”

  “Nothing’s going on.” His gaze slid from Joe’s. Jesus. He was being interrogated by a ghost.

  “You got a heart problem? You take any medication?”

  “No.” Luke grabbed his jeans off the floor and pulled them on.

  “You telling the truth? I got no qualms about searching through your drawers and cabinets. One good thing about my condition is there’s nothing anyone can do to hurt me.”

  “Search away.”

  “I will.”

  Luke looked around for his shirt. There it was, on the chair. He took three steps and grabbed it, but it was wrinkled. He tossed it back onto the chair, hurried to the closet and grabbed another shirt.

  “What about Erin?”

  His shirt half on, Luke stopped. “She’s a kid.”

  “A kid who’s been through a lot. C’mon, we both know quacks nowadays give out pills like candy. Her mom’s a junkie. What’s Erin on?”

  “She’s not on a damn thing.” Luke balled his hands.

  Joe gave him a scornful look. “What? You gonna hit me? I’m a ghost.”

  “Shit.” Luke glared at the ghost, uncurled his fingers, then shoved his other arm into a sleeve and buttoned up. His hands didn’t shake but they weren’t as steady as they should be. And inside his chest, his heart thumped in triple time. “You sure Cassie was given something? How do you know?”

  “The doctors took a sample from her stomach. I heard the nurses talking. Some hotshot lab intern was on duty and analyzed it already, trying to make points. It’s a common heart medicine.”

  Luke pulled on his socks and put on his shoes. He grabbed his keys and wallet, ready to go, when he remembered one thing. Erin.

  He sank onto the chair, sitting on his discarded shirt. He had to go to Cassie, but he couldn’t leave Erin. He glanced at the clock. It would be a good hour before the bus came for her.

  Joe lounged just above the end of Luke’s bed, as if suspended in an invisible La-Z-boy chair. He grinned, looking too solid to be a ghost. “If you’re worried about Erin, I can take care of her.”

  “Forget it.”

  “She likes me. Better than she likes the blonde.”

  “The blonde has one advantage over you.”

  “Just one? I counted a few, but she’s more than a half century too young for me.”

  “What about Cassie?”

  “Cassie’s got an old soul.”

  Luke ignored the “old soul” bullshit, sticking to what mattered. Cassie in the hospital. She mattered.

  “How’d the overdose happen?”

  “She was at a bar, with the motel owner.” Joe scowled and sat up. “I told her to stay away from him. I listened to the nurses gossip this morning. They said the game had just started when Cassie ran to the bathroom. One of the nurses wanted to bet that the overdose was put in her beer, but none of the others took her on.”

  “What the hell was she doing with that phony?”

  “That’s what I want to know.”

  “You’re sure she’s okay? Are they going to let her out soon?”

  “I was a cop in my previous life, not a quack. They said she’ll be all right. I suppose they’ll let her out soon.” He frowned and shook his head. “I’ve heard doctors don’t like to keep people in the hospitals anymore. I wonder what they want to keep instead. Orangutans?”

  Luke lifted his head. There was something he could do for Cassie. “Do you know how to reach her parents? I want their phone number.”

  Joe stared at him. “Man, you don’t want to do that. She won’t like it.”

  “The number.” Luke wasn’t going to back down. Not from a ghost.

  With a shrug, Joe rattled off numbers. “Don’t tell her where you got it,” he said as Luke jotted down the phone number on the notepad he kept by the bed in case he woke with song lyrics looping through his mind.

  Ignoring Joe, Luke picked up his cell phone and punched in the numbers. It rang about six times before a man answered, his irritated voice too young to belong to Cassie’s father.

  “This is Luke Rivers. Cassie Taylor is working for me. Is her father there?”

  “Cassie? Now what did she do?”

  Tension built in Luke’s head. He felt a flurry of motion. Glancing to the side, he saw Joe had vanished. “She’s in the hospital. Who is this?”

  “Emerson Taylor. Cassie’s my half-sister. My parents aren’t home. You can tell me what’s going on, and I’ll pass it on to them.”

  Luke hesitated. He didn’t like the way the half-brother’s voice had hardened when he said Cassie’s name or the way he said, “Now what did she do?” That wasn’t the way a concerned family member reacted to news of a hospitalized sister.

  “I’d prefer to talk to your father. Is there another number where I can reach him?”

  “Don’t play games with me. Is Cassie hurt?”

  Was that concern in his voice? “Someone slipped her an overdose. She was kept overnight at the hospital. That’s Mercy Hospital in Bliss, Wisconsin. I’m not sure how she is. Supposedly, she’s all right.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Emerson’s voice rose. “Someone poisoned her? What the hell did she do this time?”

  “This time? Has this happened before?” Luke clasped the phone so tight his knuckles hurt.

  “No one’s poisoned her that I know of, but she has a habit of rubbing people the wrong way. My half sister insists on living an alternative life style, and she has to expect things like this.”

  “Your father—”

  “Would’ve hung up on you already. My father warned her not to come to us if any problems occurred. My mother concurs. Cassie
’s profession is a joke.”

  Anger roared inside Luke’s head, red lights exploding. “Your sister needs help and one of you should get your selfish ass down here to help her.”

  There was a silence on the other end. Luke wondered whether the rat had clicked off. He opened his mouth to shout out Emerson’s name, when the brother spoke with a clipped voice.

  “You may as well know my mother dislikes Cassie. My father’s on a business trip, and I’m busy. Since you’re so concerned about Cassie getting help, you give it.” He hung up.

  Luke slapped the cell phone on his nightstand. Someday soon he was going to write a song about Cassie’s family. He strode to the window and gazed at the dreary lake view.

  He didn’t know a damn thing about taking care of another person. Look at the lousy job he was doing with Erin. She hated him. But Cassie... Someone had tried to kill her and except for Joe the ghost, he didn’t see anyone lining up to watch over her.

  She was as alone as he was.

  He leaned his forehead against the cool window and closed his eyes. The poisoning had to have something to do with the house or the ghost. First someone broke into her motel room. Now this.

  The violence against her was escalating. Another attempt on her life might succeed.

  Despite the chill of the window, sweat beaded his forehead. He lifted his head and stepped back. She’d been harmed because of the job he’d hired her to do. He needed to make sure the harm didn’t happen again. And there was only one way to do it.

  She had to move in with him and Erin.

  Chapter Forty

  “You have a visitor,” the nurse said, her voice excited.

  Lying in the hospital bed, Cassie raised her eyelids and looked at Erin’s worried face peering down at her. She smiled, even as she was aware of Luke standing behind Erin.

  “Hey, Erin.” This time she sounded like a frog with a hangover. Her gaze flickered up and she dropped the smile. “Luke.”

  “The nurse says you’re doing well,” Luke said.