Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries)

by J. B. Lynn

  I nodded. I actually hated puzzles, but I was desperate to get away from Smoke's inner sanctum. I didn't think he'd take too kindly to me barging in.

  Halley and I were sitting at the table doing the puzzle when Smoke walked in. Really Halley was picking up random pieces and handing them to me with the expectation that I could figure out where they were supposed to go. I wasn't having much luck.

  "Did you offer our guest a drink?" The scent of soap and his citrusy aftershave hung in the air as he walked past.

  "Would you like a drink, Vicky?" Halley asked. "We have apple juice."

  "I'm not really thirsty, but thank you."

  "What's for dinner, Smoke?" Abandoning the puzzle, Halley walked into the kitchen and peered into the refrigerator.

  "Salad."

  Halley wrinkled her nose in distaste. "How 'bout fish sticks?"

  "How about pasta with vodka sauce?"

  She clapped her hands. "Can I make the garlic bread? Can I? Can I?"

  "Sure, squirt." He reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately. Smiling, she leaned into him, put her arms around his waist, and squeezed. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  A painful lump rose in my throat as I remembered Jerry doing the same to me, and I had to look away from the brother and sister in the kitchen.

  "Who are you?" A little girl with dark hair, blue eyes, and a yellow polka-dot dress suddenly appeared at my elbow.

  Thankfully I remembered that Smoke was standing within earshot, so I kept my mouth shut and pretended I didn't know she was there.

  "Who are you?" she asked again.

  "She's Vicky!" Halley supplied cheerfully.

  I swung my gaze back in her direction. She'd stepped away from her brother and was waving at the child.

  "Let's go play." She walked up to the girl and held out her hand. The little one appeared to grab her fingers. Together they walked out, holding hands.

  I looked back at Smoke. He'd turned around and was leaning with his palms resting against the counter top. Every muscle in his body appeared to be stretched tight with tension. I wished I could tell him not to worry so much about his sister, that the people she talked to really did exist on some plane, but I couldn't figure out how to do that without coming across as a total nutjob.

  I finally got up, walked over, and asked his back, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "Sure," he said after a moment.

  I held my breath, waiting to hear what I could do for him.

  He turned to face me. "Would you mind setting the table?"

  That wasn't the kind of request I'd been expecting, but it was a job I could handle. "Sure. I'd love to."

  "We don't have any paper plates," he teased. "Think you can handle carrying three real plates?"

  "Nobody likes a smartass."

  "Sure you do." He winked at me.

  Dinner preparation flowed smoothly. The man knew what he was doing in the kitchen, and my mother had trained me well to be a first rate kitchen helper. We didn't talk, each occupied with our own thoughts, but it was a comfortable silence, and by the time the meal was on the table, I felt more relaxed than I had in a very long time.

  The conversation at the table was directed by Halley, and it basically consisted of her asking me a million questions like: How old are you? What's your favorite color? Do you like cereal for breakfast? What kind? Is it better out of the box or in a bowl?

  At some point during the interrogation, Smoke got up from the table and collapsed on the sofa "to rest for just a minute." Moments later, Halley was giggling at his rhythmic snoring.

  She went to play in her room, and I put the leftovers in the fridge. As quietly as I could, I piled the dirty dishes in the sink. I didn't try to wash them, figuring that Smoke needed his sleep more than clean plates.

  Creeping into the living room, I saw that Smoke was still deep in slumber on the couch. He didn't stir.

  I felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was so exhausted because of me.

  I went in to check on Halley. She'd changed into a pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and was sitting on her bed. The little girl was hovering over it. They giggled as they played Rock, Paper, Scissors.

  "Vicky, say hi to Angel," Halley said.

  I closed the bedroom door behind me, telling myself it was to keep us from disturbing her brother's slumber, rather than preventing him from catching me talking to one of Halley's "imaginary" friends. "Hi, Angel. Did you used to live here?"

  She and Halley exchanged a strange look I couldn't understand.

  "She was never alive here," Halley said slowly.

  "Oh," I said as though I understood, but I didn't.

  Angel leaned close to Halley and whispered something in her ear.

  Halley nodded emphatically.

  I waited, unsure of how to proceed.

  "Angel likes you," Halley confided.

  "She says you're not bad like Lacey."

  "Bad?"

  "She does bad things," Halley assured me. "Angel's seen her."

  I imagined what sort of "bad" things the kid ghost might have witnessed Smoke doing with his partner in the privacy of his bedroom. "Sometimes…" I said slowly, "sometimes grownups do things that might seem bad…" I trailed off. It wasn't my place to give the birds and the bees talk to a girl who looked to be about seven or to Halley.

  I tried a different tactic. "Have you been visiting Halley for a long time, Angel?"

  Maybe the kid was lost and needed a little guidance to move on.

  Angel and Halley both cocked their heads to the side, like they were Olympic-caliber synchronized swimmers. "What?" they asked simultaneously.

  "Never mind." It had been a long day, and it was too late to start trying to help a ghost. "Smoke's sleeping."

  "Bed time for me too," Halley declared. "Where are you going to sleep?"

  That was a question I'd been pondering myself. I didn't want to wake Smoke to ask him to drive me home, so it appeared that I'd be spending the night here.

  "You should sleep in Smoke's room," Angel said. "He has a big bed."

  "Okay. That's what I'll do. Do you need anything before you go to sleep, Halley?"

  Shaking her head she dove into the middle of the stuffed zoo. She waved a giant pink elephant at me. "Take Elle. She'll keep you company."

  I took the plush animal. "Thank you."

  "Sweet dreams, Vicky."

  "Do you want me to turn off your light?"

  "Uh-huh."

  Turning off the light, I stepped out of the room pulling the door shut behind me. "Sweet dreams."

  I peeked in on Smoke one last time before I turned off the living room light. Since it was a little chilly, I took the fleece throw folded neatly at the end of the couch and covered Smoke with it. As I performed the intimate gesture I wondered when was the last time someone had done something to take care of him.

  Not that that's what I was doing. I was just making sure that my best employee didn't get sick.

  I was dead tired too and really needed some sleep, so I went into Smoke's bedroom. It seemed presumptuous to crawl into his bed, so I curled up on the floor, using Elle the Elephant as a pillow. I didn't think I'd be able to fall asleep on the hard floor and resigned myself to a night of tossing and turning.

  "Hey," someone whispered. "What are you doing on the floor?"

  It took me a second to realize that the shadowy figure shaking my arm was Smoke. "Huh?"

  "Get up," he urged, tugging on my arm.

  Sleepily I complied. "What time is it?"

  "A little after three."

  So much for not being able to sleep.

  "What happened?" he asked, yawning.

  "You fell asleep on the couch, and I didn't want to wake you."

  "Why were you on the floor?"

  Instead of answering, I shoved him in the direction of his bed. "Go to bed. You need sleep."

  Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, he held out a hand to me. "It's a big bed."

/>   For a brief moment I considered the offer. I'd been sleeping alone for a long time. Smoke wasn't suggesting we have sex, just that we sleep together. What would it hurt?

  He leaned over and caught my hand, sending bolts of electricity up my arm and through my body. "C'mon, Tori."

  I did my best to ignore the hitch in my stomach caused by his touch and whispered invitation. I pulled free of his grasp. "Thanks, but no."

  He sighed heavily and stood. "Okay, you take the bed. Can't have a guest sleeping on the floor."

  "Don't be silly," I countered. "It's my fault you're so exhausted. I'm not going to take your bed too. I'll sleep on the couch."

  Before he could argue, or I could change my mind, I stumbled into the living room and collapsed on the couch that was still warm from his body heat. The throw smelled of his aftershave as I pulled it over me, second-guessing my decision.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "Can't you see she's sleeping?"

  I opened one eye to see who had woken me. Disoriented, it took me a moment to remember that I was in Smoke's living room.

  Angel, in her yellow polka dot dress was squaring off against something gold and glittery. "You should leave her alone. You should leave."

  I opened my other eye so that I could focus on who she was talking to.

  Juliet Rota saw that I was awake. "You said you'd help me."

  "What are you doing here?" I whispered. "Is Cusak nearby?"

  "Why would he be here?" Juliet asked.

  "Tell her to leave," Angel demanded, hands on hips.

  Playing referee for two fighting ghosts was not the most optimal way to start one's day. I sat up and looked around to make sure Smoke wasn't within earshot. "I need a cup of coffee."

  "You promised you'd help me," Juliet said.

  "Not here and not now," I whispered.

  "I came looking for you. When are you going to help me?"

  "I don't know. Soon."

  "When's soon?"

  "Listen," I growled. "I have a job, other obligations, a life!"

  "You promised!" Juliet stamped her foot as though she were the seven-year-old.

  "Quiet!" Angel admonished. "You'll wake up, Halley."

  "Shut up, you little brat!"

  "Seriously?" I muttered. "All this before I've even had a cup of coffee?"

  "All what?" Smoke asked from behind me.

  Angel clapped her hands over her mouth and disappeared into thin air.

  Startled, I tried to jump up, but the fleece throw was twisted around my feet, and all I managed to do was flail like a beached fish before collapsing back onto the couch.

  Smoke came around to get a better look at me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

  "Fix your hair. You look a mess," Juliet hissed. And then she too was gone.

  "Good morning." I tried to smooth my hair. It was bad enough he'd seen me in my finest lingerie the day before. Having him witness my bedhead two days in a row was mortifying.

  "Morning. Do you always talk to yourself first thing?"

  I shrugged. "It depends on the day."

  "I guess you didn't get much sleep last night. That couch isn't the most comfortable to spend the night on."

  "You needed sleep more than I did. Besides, I got enough."

  "You might have gotten more if you'd agreed to share my bed."

  I looked away, pretending to concentrate on disentangling myself from the blanket. Was he flirting with me?

  "Then again you might have gotten less."

  He was definitely flirting. To my embarrassment, my cheeks burned. I looked down, focusing on folding the throw.

  Stepping closer, Smoke tugged it away from me. "I embarrassed you. I'm sorry."

  I shook my head, but didn't look at him. "I'm still fuzzy-headed, that's all." Desperate to change the subject, I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Do you know anything about a woman named Juliet Rato?"

  A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth, letting me know he was aware of my avoidance. "C'mon. I'll make us coffee."

  I followed him into the kitchen and sat in a chair at the table.

  "She's the pretty, blonde, young woman who went missing a year or so ago, right?" he asked as he pulled a bag of ground coffee from his refrigerator.

  "That's the one."

  "I didn't work that case."

  "But you knew her?" I asked.

  Filling the coffeemaker with practiced precision, he shook his head. "I followed the story in the paper. Did you know her?"

  "No."

  "So why are you asking about her?"

  "I…" I couldn't tell him that she'd been standing in his living room a minute earlier. "I had a dream about her."

  He watched me with a disquieting intensity. I got the distinct impression he knew I was lying. I swallowed hard and tried to look innocent.

  His doorbell rang.

  Frowning as he glanced at the clock, he muttered, "Who the hell is that?" He hurried to the front door, but Halley, who neither of us had noticed emerge from her room, beat him to it.

  "Uncle Bernie!" she cried, throwing the door open.

  I saw Smoke stumble-step, but he recovered quickly. Turning back toward me he raised a finger to his lips, indicating I should be quiet.

  "This is a surprise," Smoke said as he greeted the man at the door.

  I wondered if I should hide. As a compromise I slouched down in my seat.

  "It shouldn't be," the man said as he barged in, not waiting for an invitation. "Uncle Bernie" was a sixty-ish African American man, wearing a porkpie hat and big, round eyeglasses, that gave him an owlish expression. "What the hell is going on?"

  Smoke rubbed the back of his neck. "That's the million dollar question."

  Bernie spotted me with my less-than-perfect-posture. I sat up straight.

  "Bernie," Smoke supplied hurriedly, "this is my boss, Victoria Spring."

  "Vicky!" Halley corrected. "She likes to be called Vicky"

  "Miss Spring." Bernie nodded in my direction before rounding on Smoke. "We need to talk."

  "Halley, why don't you and Vicky set up breakfast?" Smoke asked, following as Bernie retreated back outside.

  "Okay."

  "For how many?" I called out.

  "Three," Smoke said.

  "Four!" Bernie boomed.

  "Four," Smoke said quietly as he pulled the door shut behind him.

  I loaded the dishwasher with the previous night's dishes while Halley set the table for four. As we worked, I could hear Smoke and Uncle Bernie arguing. Their words were indistinct, but their tones were easy to understand.

  "Do you know how to cook eggs?" Halley asked, interrupting my eavesdropping.

  "Sure."

  "Okay. I'll make toast, and you make eggs. Do you know how to poach them?"

  I nodded, and she squealed with delight.

  "You pour the orange juice," I said. While she did that, I rummaged in the produce bin of Smoke's refrigerator. I used mine to store bottled water. He actually used his for fruits and vegetables.

  By the time Smoke and Bernie returned a few minutes later, the table was set, vegetables were sautéing, and water was simmering for the poached eggs.

  "What did you bring me, Uncle Bernie?" Halley demanded, abandoning her post at the four slice toaster.

  They stayed in the living room while Smoke joined me in the kitchen. He watched me crack eggs over the pan like it was the greatest magic trick he'd ever seen. "You cook?"

  "You don't have to sound so surprised," I told him.

  "I just…I assumed…"

  "Prepare to be amazed," I told him wryly. "But first you can put a slice of toast on each plate. I hope you don't mind that I raided your stash of veggies."

  "No problem."

  "Halley insisted that she doesn't want any vegetables with her egg."

  "Halley would be thrilled if vegetables were wiped out of existence."

  "Are you talking about me?" Halley asked as she and Bernie
sank into seats at the table.

  "Yes," Smoke replied. "I was telling her that you're a picky eater."

  "Am not!"

  "Are too!"

  "I just know what I like."

  As the siblings bickered, I divided the vegetables over the toast on three of the plates and then topped all four plates with a perfectly poached egg.

  I took two as Smoke grabbed the others, and we brought them to the table.

  "You two work well together," Bernie murmured, pulling off his eyeglasses and rubbing them with the end of his shirt.

  Smoke shot him a look I couldn't quite understand.

  "Tell me, Ms. Spring," Bernie continued, "How did you come to run a crime scene clean up business?"

  "This is the best poached egg I ever had in my whole life," Halley said.

  Smoke chuckled. "Your whole life?"

  "My whole entire life!"

  "See," I teased Smoke. "She's amazed."

  The corners of his eyes crinkled, but his smile quickly faded as Bernie cleared his throat.

  I turned my attention back to him. "My brother started the business. I'm just keeping it afloat while he's…away." Before he could ask any more questions, I went on the offensive. "How do you know these two?" I waved my yolk-covered fork in the general direction of Smoke and Halley.

  "I'm an old family friend," he supplied, just a tad too quickly and smoothly.

  "You must be good friends to show up so early in the day," I said, watching his reaction intently.

  He and Smoke shared a loaded look across the table. Then he swung his attention back to me. "Did you use chili powder on these vegetables?"

  "Chili powder is on sale this week," Halley interjected.

  The rest of the meal was a recitation of everything that was on sale at the supermarket that week. As soon as we were all done eating, Uncle Bernie got up to leave.

  "We'll talk soon," he said to Smoke.

  Smoke nodded.

  "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Spring."

  I doubted that but managed a semblance of a smile.

  And then he was gone, and Halley was worrying that she'd miss her ride to work, so we quickly cleaned up, drove Halley back to the residential home, and went to the tire place to pick up the Spring Cleaning van.

  It wasn't until Halley was out of the Jeep that I asked about Smoke's early morning visitor. "I got the impression your 'uncle' didn't like me."