I glanced at the room, the groups of friends and families chatting away, oblivious to their mortality, while the ghosts had forgotten theirs. I turned back to the window and saw the man look up.
“Blast,” I whispered.
Something familiar, all right.
My head almost fell off my neck as I twisted around, searching for Lee. I couldn’t see her in the living room. Floating up and slinking along the ceiling (I hate walking through people, even in an emergency), I found Lee in the kitchen, scooping spring rolls onto a plate. Oil still sizzled in the pan.
“Lee, they’re here,” I blurted out.
Lee didn’t even flinch at my sudden appearance. Her narrow eyes were focused on the spring rolls. “Who? The aliens? It’s about bloody time. Tell them I’m ready when they are.”
“Not aliens. Them!” I waved my arms around and flew backwards, planting my butt into the fridge. “They’re really here. On the street. You have to call the police. Call off the party. Lock the door. Better yet, leave the country.”
“I’m not leaving.” She bit into a spring roll and chewed noisily.
“You have to.”
“No.”
I stared at her. Maybe she hadn’t understood me. Maybe I should try to levitate her out of the building. I frowned. As small as she was, I wasn’t strong enough for that. “You’re so… stubborn,” I finished weakly.
“Look who’s talking.” Lee continued to scoop the spring rolls out of the oil. “You are in need of deep breathing, grasshopper.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “Blast it all, Lily Chan. Don’t you go pulling that Kung Fu mumbo jumbo with me, little Chinese lady that you are. They. Are. Here.”
Standing back, Lee surveyed the plate and nodded. “Very good.”
She carried the plate out and laid it on the dining table. Mr. Smits’ eyes widened. I was pretty sure I saw a dribble of saliva roll down the landlord’s wobbly chin.
“Wonderful, Ms. Chan,” Mr. Smits enthused around a mouthful of chow mien. “Every bit of it. Pity that Mr. Cooper isn’t here, eh? I guess he knew I’d be coming.” The landlord studied her with calculating eyes.
Lee smiled blandly. “As I’ve told you, Mr. Smith…”
“Smits,” he corrected her.
“Yes, of course. As I’ve told you, Mr. Spits, Mr. Cooper is quite dead. I showed you the newspaper obituary.”
Mr. Smits waved the evidence away. “I don’t believe that, not one bit. That’s just another ploy of his to dodge his rent. But tomorrow, I call his bluff. I,” and he raised one arm up, his finger pointing to the ceiling, “am evicting him.”
“That’s good, Mr. Smuck.”
“Smits.”
Lee wandered away, the bland smile widening into a grin. “Never gets old. He’s so much fun.”
“Lee,” I hissed, jabbing a finger at the window.
Her mouth pursed, Lee marched over and looked out. “There’s no one there.”
I stuck my head through the glass. Rain zipped through me as I squinted at nothing but rain. I jerked my head back in and saw Lee strolling away towards the door where Mrs. Perkins had arrived. She’s the soon-to-be ex-wife of infamous jailbird CEO Perkins, my former employer and the guy who had me murdered. Yeah, real nice guy, but his wife’s okay.
I flew to the door. “They were there. I saw…”
“Axe, would you settle down,” Lee ordered as she closed the door. A couple people standing nearby looked over at her with startled ‘are you okay’ expressions. She smiled, waved back and whispered, “Whoever you thought you saw obviously isn’t there now. Everything’s fine.”
“Absolutely,” Bob added from his position on top of the TV set. “The stir fry and noodles dish look divine. It makes a dead man want to live again.”
“I feel alive,” Faye shouted as she dove in and out of the wall before swooping through the door into the hallway.
Lee put a hand over her face, shook her head and lowered her arm with a dramatic sigh. “What a mad house.” After making sure no one was watching her, she looked at me and continued, “What’s the worse that can happen, Axe? You’re already dead.”
“But you’re not,” I pointed out.
“She will be deceased one day,” Bob said in his matter-of-fact voice.
“DEAD,” Timmy boomed out. Timmy always talked in capital letters. The bigness of them matches his form, which looks like a human version of a cement mixer.
“It’s true,” Lee acknowledged with a shrug of her slim shoulders.
“Wow,” I snarked with a roll of my eyes. “I feel so much better now.”
“Lee,” Faye trilled as she swooped through the closed front door and cartwheeled through Mrs. Perkins who was contentedly sipping at a cup of tea. “Are you by any chance expecting more guests?”
Lee glanced around the room, which was crowded literally from top to bottom. “No. I don’t have any room for more.”
“I thought so,” Faye said with a self-satisfied smile. “Those two in the hallway don’t look like your type to begin with. Besides, most people bring flowers or a bottle of something to a party. Whoever heard of bringing shotguns?”
Gate Crashing
Bob, Lee and I gaped at Faye. The paparazzi poltergeist giggled with delight, pirouetted and clapped her little hands. Timmy gazed blankly at the opposite wall, oblivious to the conversation, his huge bulk taking up most of the area of ceiling where he floated.
I was the first to recover. I glowered at Lee. “I told you so. They’re here.”
“Yes, yes,” she brushed me away. “And as far as they are concerned, you’re not. So there will be no problems. Pity that they’re not aliens though.”
The doorbell rang.
“Don’t answer it,” I ordered just as Faye grinned and poltergeisted the doorknob open.
The door swung inward, revealing two men who couldn’t be more different if one was a zombie and the other an angel. The blond, angelic looking man stood in front, with the zombie dude looming in the hallway. I didn’t recognise Mr. Zombie-face and assumed he was a bodyguard. I did however and unfortunately recognise the other guy. Later, Faye gushed on and on about the angel-faced man, and Lee (to my disgust) had agreed. But at that moment, everyone stood or floated without moving or speaking.
After a minute of this strange silence, the angel-faced man cleared his throat delicately, his hands clutched contritely before him as he bowed slightly and spoke softly, “Good evening, ma’am. The name’s Cal. I’m real sorry to be disturbing your party and all, but I’m looking for Axe Cooper and I think you may be able to help.”
“Ooooo. He is ever so dashing,” Faye enthused to the ghosts and Lee. The living of course couldn’t hear her.
“Really,” Lee breathed out, her jaw slack as she gazed at the man. Her eyes glazed over.
“Oh, yes,” Faye said. “He’s gorgeous, actually. Fashionable too. I like a well-dressed man.”
Cal nodded. Like most of the living, he was oblivious to the presence of ghosts around him. “May I come in?”
“And charming,” Faye continued, spinning above Cal so fast that she became a blue and blond blur. “So charming. You could learn a thing or two from him, Axe.”
“Yes,” Lee said, looking slightly dazed. “Of course.”
“Bah,” I spat out, looking at the two women in disgust. I couldn’t believe they’d fallen for Cal’s smooth talk and good looks. But there they were, Faye giggling and Lee smiling as if she’d been drinking something stronger than green tea that day.
Cal and the bulky zombie-faced bodyguard stepped inside. The bodyguard closed the door and leaned against it. He wore a long raincoat, but I saw the vague outline of a shotgun that he hugged to his chest, as if he was about to kiss it or dance with it. I knew what I’d like to do with it.
“What do you think of that one?” I asked, glaring at Faye and gesturing to the hidden shotgun.
She shrugged, her adoring gaze fixed on Cal as Lee gave him a plate at the di
ning table. “Face scarred and cut up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Tacky haircut. Poor skin quality. No fashion sense and steel-toed boots.” She shivered. “Who wears steel-toed boots to a party? Frankenstein. That’s who he reminds me of, sweet pea. A really ugly version of Frankenstein.”
“Frankenstein with a shotgun,” I said and floated over to Lee. “Snap out of it, Lee. These guys aren’t here for the spring rolls and fruit punch.”
Lee smiled. “Would you like some spring rolls, Cal?”
“Thank you kindly, ma’am. Don’t mind if I do.”
I smacked a hand against my forehead, wishing I could do the same to Cal. I still wasn’t strong enough in my poltergeist skills and Faye definitely wasn’t going to oblige me. She was practically drooling over my former associate.
“Ma’am, like I said, I don’t want to disturb you none,” Cal explained in his smooth voice.
“You aren’t disturbing us at all, sugar,” Faye crooned in his ear.
“Not at all,” Lee agreed with both of them.
“That’s mighty kind,” Cal continued. “I’m an old friend of Axe Cooper’s.”
I made an unintelligible and really rude noise. If my Gran and I had both been alive, she’d have washed my mouth out with soap. And it wouldn’t have mattered that I was almost thirty. My Gran would’ve gone ahead and done it anyways.
Cal nodded. “I was in the area, and wanted to catch up with him. I was hoping you could help me out with that.”
Lee watched Cal, her dark, narrow eyes calm and her face now expressionless. With a swoosh of fabric, she gestured to the platter of Chinese spring rolls and slipped her hands into the gaping sleeves of her black Kung Fu outfit, so that her arms were linked and her hands hidden. Her long black braid hung down her back like a cat’s tail.
“Cal,” Lee said gently. “I realise this may be a bit of a shock for you, but Axe Cooper is dead. He was murdered about a month ago or so.”
Cal smiled warmly, taking a bite out of a spring roll. “Delicious. He’s real good at that.”
“Excuse me?” Lee’s thin black eyebrows rose up.
“Ms. Chan,” Cal said around a mouthful of spring roll. “Axe Cooper is alive, just that he’s real good at faking his death and all.”
Lee started to chuckle and instead coughed. “I guarantee you that this time, he is definitely dead.”
Mr. Smits had been hovering around the table and scoffed. Cal glanced sharply at him. “He’s not a bit dead, I assure you,” the landlord grumbled. “He’s just dodging his rent payment. I don’t like him, not one little bit.” He stage whispered to Cal, “He does that, you know. Avoids paying his rent. Always late. Pretends he’s dead whenever the bills are due.”
Cal’s smile widened and his eyes sparkled merrily. “Yes sir, I believe you, I do indeed, sir. Axe is known for that, for not paying up what he owes.”
I focused my energy, but all I managed to do was send Mr. Smits’ plate tumbling out of his hands. The man gasped in dismay and disappeared under the table.
“Not this time,” Lee said flatly, kicking Mr. Smits’ plate away from her and towards the other end of the living room. There was a thump and a curse from under the table.
“Well, ma’am, here’s the rub.” Cal said like he regretted what he had to do. He turned to her, still smiling and relaxed as he helped himself to another spring roll. “While I was standing outside your door, I heard you talking with him. I heard you talking with Axe Cooper.”
Frankenstein shifted the shotgun against his chest and glared at Lee. I tensed up. Maybe I could summon enough juice to disarm the big brute. But Cal would definitely have his own piece tucked under his jacket.
“You heard me talking to a dead man?” Lee asked, her face a convincing mask of incredulity. She has the best poker face I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a few.
“Oh yes, I sure did, ma’am. My friend here was tempted to bust down the door and grab Axe then and there, ‘cause we’re just so eager to catch up with him and all. But like I told you, I don’t want no trouble.” Cal nodded and dipped a third roll into a sauce. “These are mighty fine. Did you make them?”
“Yes, I did.” Lee frowned, her gaze fixed on Cal’s hand as he scooped up a few more spring rolls from the bowl. “I hope you washed your hands.”
Cal stared at her, his hand clenching several rolls, puzzled and smiling at the same time.
“Oh, my,” Faye swooned. “He makes even a frown look good.”
“Sure,” Cal said slowly, looking a little uncertain about the direction of the conversation.
“I forgot to put out the hand sanitizer,” Lee muttered, her eyebrows bunched together. “I knew I forgot something.” She paused, took a deep breath to recover from the lack of table hygiene and the resulting bacteria overload, and continued calmly, “Cal, Axe Cooper may be many things, but alive is not one of them. However, please feel free to explore the apartment.”
“He’s probably already high tailed it out of here.”
“Then search the entire building,” she said in a tight voice. “If that doesn’t convince you, I can give you directions to his grave. I attended the funeral myself.”
Cal nodded, his eyes widening. So far, he’d kept his gun as hidden as his true intentions. But it was only a matter of time. “He went that far, eh? Impressive. I wonder whose body he substituted for his own? Or…”
Lee sighed and headed for the kitchen, telling no one in particular, “I need hand sanitizer and a pot of tea.”
How to Use an Axe
I knew a grilling when I saw / heard one. This was definitely a grilling. At least they weren’t using crowbars on me, I reminded myself and sighed. Things to be grateful for. Then again, maybe Shadow had a ghost bar he’d pull out eventually. Who knew with that guy.
The retirement party was officially finished. Frankenstein’s zombie demeanour encouraged its rapid demise, and that was before he waved the shotgun at the dining table. I figured it was Frankenstein’s way of asking Cal to pass over the plate of spring rolls before they were all eaten. Most of the other guests seemed to think differently and offered barely audible, hasty goodbyes as they rushed away. Shortly after that, Cal and his personal monster left, after eating the spring rolls, issuing a promise that they would return and wishing Lee a good night and better memory.
And now I was being grilled.
With my back against a corner, I considered sliding through the wall and out into the night, but I didn’t see the point. I’d eventually have to tell them something. Shadow, who had returned as soon as DD left with Timmy, was hovering nearby, dark curiosity and determination swirling about him. Faye was sitting beside Lee on the sofa, while Bob’s Jell-O like form oozed around the TV.
“Did you really fake your death?” Faye demanded, quivering with excitement.
“Is this on record?” I asked.
The last thing I needed was another front-page news article with my story slapped all over it. Knowing The Ghost Post, it wouldn’t even be accurately slapped on. Although The Ghost Post was first and foremost an agency to help ghosts sort out after-death issues (like who killed them or how to move on), there was also an online newsletter of sorts that dabbled in highly creative journalism. And that’s a kind way of describing it.
Faye giggled. “Of course. Sweetie pie, I’m a paparazzi on the cusp of being a real journalist…”
“How dare she put those two words in the same sentence,” Bob blustered.
Faye glared at Bob. “Not all of us had the opportunity to work for… Where was it that you worked again, Blob?”
Lee closed her eyes and leaned her head against the armrest of the sofa. “I’m going to need more than green tea if this goes on.”
“Talk.”
It was one word only, but the way it issued from Shadow, the force and threat behind it, didn’t leave any space for wiggling away.
“Yes, Axe,” Lee agreed. “These are your friends.” She paused, glanced at Faye and added, “More or
less.”
I folded my arms over my chest and stared up at the ceiling, selecting which memories I would allow out. That done, I talked. “For the past three years, I’ve been in hiding here, in Vancouver.”
“Really?” Faye asked, confused. “People move here so they can come out of the closet.”
Shadow hissed at her, like a really big, really scary, highly venomous, black snake.
I continued. “Before that, I lived in Calgary.”
“Calgary?” Bob asked, the slash that was his mouth opening up into a gape. Inside, there was nothing but more grey translucent Jell-O stuff. For some unfathomable reason, Bob had forgotten his human form when he died and hadn’t bothered to adopt any other. “You lived in Cowboy Town?”
I scoffed. “That is such a stereotype.”
“I don’t know about that, sugar lump,” Faye butted in, ignoring Shadow’s dagger glare. “I was there some years back, before I was dead.”
“Obviously,” Shadow growled.
“During the Calgary Stampede,” Faye nattered on. “And everyone, and I mean everyone, was wearing cowboy hats. Very tacky.”
“That only happens during the Stampede, Faye,” I explained wearily. “Trust me. The rest of the year, we’re dressed in business suites, dull coloured ties and shoes. Boring stuff. No cowboy boots or hats in sight. It’s like saying everyone in Rio wears costumes all year round, instead of just during the Carnival.”
“You mean they don’t?” Faye gasped, pretending to be shocked, her hand covering the area where her heart used to be.
“Moving right along,” Lee said with a wave of her hand at me.
I cleared my throat, considering what to tell them next. “So I lived in Calgary. Before I studied engineering, I took a short accounting course. I was young, stupid…”
“Ah yes,” Faye exhaled. “Youth and stupidity. The good, old days.”
“And I didn’t have any…” I hesitated. “Career related experience. So I took the first job I could get. It was just a short-term, one-off job.”
Fatal Secrets Page 3