by Claire Kane
“I know. It’s weird that I know—that we all know everything up here. It’s… kind of embarrassing at times, isn’t it?”
Victor laughed openly. “Yeah, but you get used to it. I can tell you’re still new by how formal you’re acting.”
Brittany blushed. “Is it really that bad?” But they both knew the answer, so she continued. “Okay. I’ll share everything I remember, but I warn you, there were a lot of bad things that went on that night. Forgive me if I only grant you one look. I’ve tried hard not to remember it myself, but the other angels here—they’ve really helped me heal from that.”
Victor nodded, remembering his own reception when he’d finally given in to coming to Heaven. “Okay. One look, and I won’t ask any questions after that.” They both knew he wouldn’t have to; he’d memorize it the first time through.
Brittany’s face grew serious, and she sat on the ground, leaning back against the tree. “Brace yourself.”
He nodded. “Ready.”
And there it was. The whole murder, with all the sights, sounds, and sensations, played out before him as though he were living it himself, just like Lacey had said. He wasn’t prepared for any of it. Fear, adrenaline, the haze of drugs fogging the mind, blind groping for an escape route, a knife flashing again and again, a dark, vaguely man-shaped figure looming above, more terror. Then, falling into nothingness.
When it ended, Victor staggered and nearly toppled. He lunged for the tree and managed to prop himself up against it. Brittany’s face was a mask of sorrow and remembered pain, trails of tears lining her beautiful cheeks. A small shudder coursed through the ground, as Heaven responded to the manifest sorrow. A sense of calm and love flowed into Victor, soothing the sharp touch of remembered trauma. He straightened, and held out his hand toward Brittany. She took it, and he pulled her up and into an embrace of gratitude this time.
“I’m sorry to have put you through that again,” he said softly, peering at her, and feeling the same affection he did for his sisters.
She pursed her lips. “And I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for,” she replied.
“I’m sorry, too. And I’m even more sorry for what you suffered during your last months of life. I won’t ask you for anything else.”
He felt her desire to help him, and he knew that, if he asked, she’d tell him more. But after the pain he’d already put her through, he couldn’t bring himself to make her endure more. “Don’t worry,” he said. “My girl is pretty resourceful, even if she’s still mortal. And I think there may be someone else up here I can talk to about this.”
She gave him a knowing look, and he scratched at the back of his neck again. “Guess I have to bite that bullet sometime,” he said sheepishly. “Wish me luck.”
“I’m sure she’ll forgive you,” Brittany said with a kind smile. “This place has a way of bringing out the best in people.”
“I hope you’re right,” he replied. And with that, he made to find the one person who, if she were here, would make Heaven a distinctly uncomfortable place for him.
Jessica Simcox.
TWENTY-TWO
Lacey wondered whether she was overly obsessing about finding the truth behind the various murders. Now she was wheeling her dear grandmother into the local shelter, a banner displayed outside advertising “The 12 Days of Christmas - Hot Turkey Dinners. Dec. 13 - 25.” Wearing a black shawl around her head for some sense of anonymity, Lacey whispered to the handsome ghost floating alongside her, “You sure Teddy will be here tonight?”
Victor nodded. “Being that it’s the thirteenth today, and Teddy mentioned he wouldn’t miss it for anything, I expect to see him around here somewhere. And although he can’t totally be trusted, he did agree to seeing you again. I hope you’re right about Nainai being able to read him.”
Lacey merely nodded as they ducked through the door and into the shelter.
Inside, the tables were filling with men, women, even some children, many bundled in worn jackets and scarves. There must have been over a hundred people. Lacey stood on tip-toes to peer around for Teddy. She'd never expected to feel sheepish over wearing nice clothes before, especially brand names, but it felt as if all eyes were suddenly on her and could see through her Michael Kors jacket to her Vera Wang top. Upon further scrutiny, she shook her head, again ashamed to realize the diners didn’t care how rich or poor she looked; they were totally focused on the turkey meals before them, taking hearty bites, and some even moaning in happiness. The turkey looked okay, but the mashed potatoes were a tad too runny. Lacey would have made them thick, fluffy, with a sprinkle of chives. Again, she scolded herself.
Speaking to Victor again, she said, “Are you seeing my thoughts? I’m feeling so ashamed right now. Suddenly, my ghetto apartment seems palatial.”
“I know what you mean,” Victor said. “And that’s coming from me, who’s resided at the Great Palace in the Sky the last few months. It’s easy to take so much for granted.”
“I already ate,” Nainai said, looking around the place as if it were a senior’s buffet. “Why are we here? Hoping to put more meat on these old bones?”
A sudden shout caught their attention. “Well, if it isn’t the rich brat, herself?”
Lacey turned in her pumps, away from her grandmother’s chair, to Teddy, who was approaching her with an awkward smile that she couldn’t interpret. Victor closed in, side to side with Lacey.
“And the Ghost of Christmas,” he chuckled, speaking of Victor. “You know each other?”
Nainai’s face flushed, and she scoffed. “Excuse me.” She turned, looking up at Lacey. “You should have put more blush on my cheeks. I told you I look too pale!”
Lacey whispered out of the side of her mouth. “He’s not talking about you. You look great.”
“So did Angel Boy tell you I’m a mass murderer? You’re looking at me as if I am. Just because Angel Boy saw me draw a knife on someone for kicks, huh?”
Lacey was seriously starting to detest Teddy more than ever before. “How can you be so flippant about that?”
Remember our objective, Victor mentally told Lacey. At least they had that little trick of privacy. Let’s not anger him.
You’re right! He’s just such a sleazy buffoon, it’s hard to bite my tongue.
But you will, right? Bite your tongue?
Of course. She gave him a quiet glance.
“A rich brat wouldn’t understand,” Teddy said. “Sometimes we need a little more entertainment than staring at fiery trash cans.”
Nainai tsked him. “You are not a nice man. Not a nice man at all.” She squinted her dark eyes at him in strength.
“I see you brought your poodle,” Teddy said to Lacey, pointing at the old woman in the wheelchair, white hair puffing out of her shawl. “Does it bite? Hope it doesn’t have rabies.” He chuckled.
“Why? You haven’t had your shots?” Lacey was amused by her comeback, the side of her mouth curling up.
“Good one,” Teddy sincerely complimented.
Victor cut in before further contention. Quick, ask him about Brittany. See what he says. See what Nainai does in response. Let’s test our theory.
Clearing her throat, Lacey pointed toward a table still open against a wall, in the distance. “Shall we sit? Have you eaten?”
Eyeing her and then Victor, he said, “I’m going to try an’ get seconds. I’ll be back soon.”
Lacey saved him a spot at the table, parked Nainai to the side of it, and Victor opted to stand. Teddy soon came over with a plate heaped with food. “My lucky day. Not only seconds, but I think the kitchen maid likes me,” he lifted his eyebrows toward the massive amount of food.
Surprisingly, as he sat, he asked Lacey, “Want some?”
“Oh, no, thank you,” she said, shifting to a comfortable position on the hard plastic chair.
“Your loss.” He grabbed a fork and dug in. “So,” he said around chomping some potatoes, white frothing the corners of his mou
th, as if he had contracted rabies. “I’m doing Angel Boy a favor by talking to you here, and in turn you can get to know some of us lowly peasants and how we make it through the holiday. So just so you know, I don’t have to humor your pathetic investigation going on here, but Teddy can also be a nice guy, and it’s close to Christmas, so I says to myself, why not? That’s the charitable part of me.”
Lacey caught her grandmother eyeing Teddy with intensity. Happy about that, at least, Lacey did manage to say “Thank you” to the rude vagrant. “I won’t bother you too much,” she said. “We can keep it brief.” She glanced again at Nainai, locked in on him still. “Did you murder Jessica?” she asked quietly.
“Nope,” he said, his teeth tearing into turkey. “And seriously. You’re asking me that in public?”
Lacey grimaced. “Absolutely not?”
“Hey, in my book, no means no. Got anymore brilliant questions?”
Lacey folded her hands and continued. “Did you murder Brittany?”
“Once again, no.” He spooned gravy on top of another piece of turkey before slamming it into his already-stuffed mouth.
“Do you know who did?” she quickly added, lifting her chin.
“Mmm…” His eyes shifted away a moment as if in thought. Like maybe he knew.
“Who killed them, Teddy?” She leaned forward in her seat, looking intently up at him.
“You take my advice and get into modeling yet?” he asked her, some turkey pieces spat out of his mouth.
Lacey recoiled with an internal cringe. Victor winced out of sympathy. Hoping Nainai was getting some kind of… prophecy, Lacey glanced at her, and found her gazing intensely at Teddy. What Lacey really wanted to do was get up and give her face a rigorous washing. All she had was a moist towelette in her purse, which she snatched out. As she wiped a cheek, she said, “I am in modeling, yes. Let get back to—”
“Good.” He nodded. “Hey, look, I’m innocent, okay? It was fun at first, being all elusive and stuff with you two, but the game is only interesting for so long. You all, including the poodle, are starting to annoy me. A man wants to eat in peace, you know.”
That rubbed Victor the wrong way. He had to speak up. “Hey, now, Ted, you’ll sit here and answer any question Lacey has for you. You made a deal.”
Teddy slowly stood with a maddening stare at the ghost. “I’ve done my part. That means you gotta pay up. But I don’t got to do anything for anyone.”
Victor retorted, “Yes, you do. Now if you have any other information, tell us.”
Quaking, Teddy looked like he was about to erupt. Instead, he suddenly flung his tray full of food at Victor with a growl, mashed potato and gravy splatting and dripping down the wall. “I said, I don’t got to do anything for anyone!” To all the other people, volunteers and fellow transients, it looked like a temper tantrum at nobody.
As if on cue, a couple of police officers entered the shelter, surprising everyone, as things became a hushed quiet. They strode right over to Teddy, and said, “Theodore Finn, you’re under arrest for the murders of Jessica Simcox and Brittany Lareaux.”
Teddy cursed loudly as the handcuffs were being put on. He wriggled in the men’s grasps as he was forcefully ushered out. “Rich Brat,” he seethed. “This is your fault, ain’t it? You set me up. It’s not over!” Struggling against the cops, he continued rambling all the way out the door. “You’d better watch your back! Teddy don’t take kindly to traitors!”
Lacey stood in shock. “What just happened?”
Victor slowly shook his head. “Looks like Teddy’s going to the slammer.”
Nainai eyed her granddaughter. “I’m glad I already ate. That man would have made me lose my appetite.”
Feeling suddenly all too conspicuous, Lacey pulled Nainai’s chair away from the table and wheeled her through the dining hall, long stares following her every step. One person was heard saying, “That’s that one reporter,” followed by a growing murmur from the crowd. Turning her face away, she hurried out the door into the cold night, where Christmas lights were joined with flashing red and blue ones as Teddy was taken in for booking.
Lacey quickly helped Nainai into the front passenger seat, and put the wheelchair into the trunk. Driving away, Nainai broke the silence with, “I didn’t even have a chance to eat.”
“We ate at home, before we came,” Lacey said, although she knew explaining could be futile. “And you just said you weren’t hungry.”
Nainai’s eyes flicked back and forth in thought. “I did? Oh, that’s right. That’s why I’m not hungry.”
“That’s fine, Nainai. I’m glad you’re not hungry. If you are, we can get you something at home.” Nainai went quiet, leaving Lacey to her thoughts.
Victor sprawled across the back seat, and entered Lacey’s thoughts. Immediately, he was met with a conflict of feelings and suspicions. Do you want to ask Nainai what she thinks? he intruded as softly as possible.
Lacey stopped at a red light. She didn’t respond.
Is that a no?
Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel in hesitation, Lacey finally said, “What did you think of that man at… the restaurant.” She knew that’s what Nainai thought of the shelter, a big restaurant.
Nainai said, “Oh, I don’t trust him. Has a murderer’s heart.”
“He does?” Lacey’s eyes lit in curiosity.
“Yes, he is a man of many secrets.” Nainai turned to Lacey. “Promise me you will not go around that man ever again.”
“Uh…” The light turned green, and Lacey pressed the gas. “Only if you are sure, Nainai.”
“I am definitely sure.” Nainai sank back against her chair with resolve.
Victor tried entering Nainai’s thoughts with success. Flashes of a scene came into his view. A brunette, her hands in front of her face in horror, as someone was stabbing her with a knife. An image of Teddy tearing viciously into his turkey followed almost at once, and Victor recoiled in surprise. “I just checked Grandma’s thoughts,” he said to Lacey. “I have no doubts now. She sees things. Teddy was one of them.”
Lacey huffed, unsure as to why she still felt little to no satisfaction. “So case closed? He’s the murderer?”
Thinking the question was directed to her, Nainai said, “Yes.”
TWENTY-THREE
Victor laid up in the living room expecting to spend some time watching late-night infomercials or reading some of Nainai’s Chinese books. But as he lay there, he simply let his thoughts drift. Teddy had been arrested, but his spirit didn’t feel settled. He knew by Lacey’s rampant thoughts that she wasn’t settled either.
It took a long time for Lacey to fall asleep. It was hard to believe that was it, the end of the mystery, that the killer had indeed been taken into custody. Eventually, she did fall asleep at nearly 3 a.m.
Lacey found herself sitting in a hospital waiting room, sweating under the sterile lighting and the faint odor of decay mingled with antiseptics. Apprehension clutched her chest, and she rose, looking around for something without knowing what.
A she wandered the halls, her anxious curiosity drove her on, and she began looking into patients’ rooms as she passed by. She saw the usual assortment of people, but they were all bland, wearing the exact same hospital gowns, the same blank looks on their drawn faces; they struck her as a collection of factory-made robots waiting to be switched off at any moment.
Recoiling, she pressed forward, still burning to find an answer to a question she couldn’t even articulate. She passed a doctor, and tried to ask him whatever came to mind, only to find her mouth was dry and no sound would come out. The physician looked at her with open pity, then passed her by.
Frustrated and sensing the leading edge of panic scratching at her mind, Lacey broke into a run. On and on she went, weaving down halls at random, flinging open doors and finding the same dying, robotic people. Then she noticed a long, dark hallway with a single, piercing light at the end. She halted, somehow knowing she’d find
what she was looking for there.
Woodenly, she crossed its length to find that the light came from a small window set into the door of a patient’s room. She made to open the door, but her hand jerked away as if of its own accord, and she found she didn’t want to go in, or even look in. Then, she heard a sound that made her blood run cold.
The drone of a heart monitor flatlining.
Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity behind her. She whirled to see a troop of doctors and nurses scrambling toward her. She darted aside just in time to avoid being trampled as they flung open the door and poured into the room. Lacey felt as though she were sucked in behind them, and she found herself standing just inside the doorway, craning her neck as she tried in vain to get a glimpse of who was on the bed.
“She’ll be okay,” Victor said from beside her.
Lacey started and spun toward him, wondering how she hadn’t seen him earlier. He looked even more handsome than usual, with his dark hair and those crystal-blue eyes that smiled at her.
“Victor?” she asked, clasping his lapels. “What’s going on?”
His smile saddened. “There’s only so much I’m allowed to say. But I can say she’ll be happier where she’s going.”
“Where who is going, Victor? Tell me. Please.”
Victor sighed, then pointed toward the bed. As if moved by an unseen force, the gaggle of medical personnel parted around the head of the bed, giving Lacey a look at the person laying on it. It was an old woman. The lady weakly rolled her head toward Lacey, and Lacey gasped at the tubes in her nose, and the bandages shrouding her head so thoroughly as to nearly hide her identity. But those eyes—simultaneously sad and accusatory—were unmistakable.
They belonged to Nainai.
“Lacey,” the woman croaked.
Lacey was at her grandmother’s bedside instantly, clutching her hand and pumping it gently as though she could coax a pulse back into her. “It’s okay, Nainai. I’m sure Mom will be here any minute.”