by Claire Kane
“Why didn’t you warn me, Lacey?”
Lacey frowned. “Warn you of what?”
“Lacey…” The word turned into a hissing breath, and the woman’s eyes fluttered shut for what Lacey knew would be the last time.
*
Lacey jerked upright in bed, heart slamming against her ribcage, breath rapid. She was out of bed and in Nainai’s room before she knew it, and barely managed to keep herself from flipping on the light as she entered. She collided with her grandmother’s bed, but the old woman didn’t so much as twitch.
“Nainai?” She shook her grandmother’s shoulder. No response.
“Nainai?” she repeated, feeling a small amount of bile rising in her throat. The woman remained motionless, and her usual snores were entirely absent. “Grandmother?” Fighting panic, she flicked on a bedside lamp. In the wan lighting, her grandmother’s Asian features looked startlingly pale, her lips slightly blue.
“Nainai!”
There was a snort, a spasm, and a muttered curse as Nainai’s eyes flew open. After a moment of obvious disorientation, her gaze settled on Lacey. Nainai’s face fell instantly.
“For the love of Buddha,” she muttered. “You’re not Bruce Lee.”
Lacey’s shoulders sagged, and she put a hand to her chest, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She flung herself at her grandmother and embraced her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re still alive, Nainai.”
“No thanks to you,” the woman replied. “And if I were dead, it wasn’t that bad. I was making out with Bruce Lee while he was kicking butt and taking names. We were in this romantic little village high in the Tian Shan Mountains, and he was just about to propose to me.
“And I wake to see you instead? That’s more disappointing than finding my dim sum plate came from McDonald’s. What’s the meaning of this? And why is it so cold? My face feels like ice.”
Lacey laughed despite herself. Her grandma was clearly fine if she was talking like that. “I’m sorry, Nainai. I—” She paused, wondering whether she should tell her grandmother the dream. Unbidden, thoughts of the morning news came back. But that couldn’t happen to Nainai, could it? Still, in her dream, the old woman had scorned her for not warning her. But warning her of what? What would she even tell her?
“My dreams,” Lacey began slowly, “were… not as pleasant as yours.”
Nainai leaned back into her ample pillows and rubbed her eyes. “Well, you dragged me away from a hot young stud to wake me up at some unearthly hour. You may as well tell me. If you don’t, I won’t be able to sleep for curiosity, and I’ll have to start quoting Confucius at you.”
Lacey smiled a little. After a moment’s thought, she gave in, and related her dream, including the one about Jessica Simcox. When she finished, Nainai closed her eyes in thought.
“So,” Nainai began, “you’re trying to warn me I’m about to die because you dreamt of someone else’s death just before they actually passed.”
Lacey nodded. “I thought the details may have mattered, so I shared.”
Nainai shook her head. “They might, they might not. Confucius say, ‘Some men are worth dying for.’ Remember that.”
Lacey’s chest tightened as she thought of Victor and her own brush with the afterlife. “Please don’t joke like that, Nainai.”
The old woman’s eyes snapped open again. “Bruce. Lee. Kissing. Engagement. Even an old woman can still fantasize, can’t she? I’ll joke however I please.”
Lacey sighed and stood to leave. “Well, whatever happens, I’ll be here to take care of you, okay? Please don’t go dying on me yet.”
Nainai smiled softly. “The cat said I’ve got a while.”
Lacey halted. A memory of Victor’s dead cat came to mind, then she cocked an eyebrow. “Black and gold tabby?”
Her grandmother nodded. “That’s the one. My real lucky cat.”
Lacey smiled again, and tucked her grandmother in for the second time that night. Maybe she was just being paranoid about the whole thing. She kissed her grandma’s wrinkled forehead and switched off the light. “Goodnight, Nainai. You can go back to the Tian Shans and your kung-fu master.”
“And don’t wake me again before my dream ends,” Nainai said sternly, wagging a finger. Lacey laughed and left, her grandmother muttering, “I was this close,” as Lacey shut the door.
She made her way to the kitchen and whipped up a quick cup of soothing tea for her nerves, hoping it would help her sleep again. When she finally returned to her bed, she lay there for a long time, eyes wide open, trying to forget everything she’d seen in her sleep.
TWENTY-FOUR
To the chorus of angels singing Hallelujah, Victor was yanked out of his deep thoughts in surprise. He jolted up in the couch as a white light from the corner of Lacey’s living room ceiling started to grow in intensity. Even as one the heavenly hosts himself, he had to shadow his eyes with a hand in order to withstand its brilliance.
“God?” he asked carefully, his voice just above a shaky whisper. “Is that… you?”
The singing intensified, filling his entire spirit with a feeling of majesty.
“I-I don’t feel worthy to be in your presence.” Victor pinched at his T-shirt. “I mean, you’ve accepted me back home, but I still feel like a work in progress, if you know what I mean. Of course you do; you’re God.” He got to his knees on the stained and shabby carpet, and pressed his hands together in a prayer gesture.
A sort of strange voice replied, “I have a favor to ask. Once you’re back home, be sure to pet your spirit guide Rao on a regular basis, right behind his fuzzy ears…”
Bowing his head, Victor said, “I will try my best.” Then his eyes flew back up to the ceiling. “Wait—what? Rao, that’s you, isn’t it?”
“Pay no attention to the cat behind the cloud,” said the voice like The Wizard of Oz.
Rao suddenly appeared in front of him with an amused smile, her fangy teeth in full view. “You should’ve seen your expression.”
Victor’s face instantly straightened.
Rao floated beside him on the couch, the white light now gone, along with the sounds of the angelic choir. “Don’t be mad at me, Pretty Boy. It was a teaching moment.”
“Yeah? What’d you teach me?” Victor glared.
“God wants his angels on assignment to dig deeper, not just look at appearance only. You saw a shiny white light, heard some pretty music, and you thought it was God, right?”
Reluctantly, Victor conceded. “Right…”
“You can do this, Vic. You’ll figure things out.”
“I hope so. I mean, there’s a bigger purpose to all this sleuthing around. You’ve mentioned it affects Lacey’s destiny, her safety.” His statements came across more like questions.
“It does.” Rao’s eyes became supremely serious.
“So, what you’re trying to tell me is to not just judge things by appearance.” He was mentally connecting the dots. “Does this have to do with Teddy? And me and Lacey feeling unsettled about his being arrested? Am I right? It’s about Teddy? He looks like he came from the bottom of a trash can, eats like one, too.”
“Yes, you don’t feel like he’s guilty, do you?”
Victor had to slowly shake his head on that one. “No, I can’t help it. Even though all the signs are there.”
Rao just nodded.
“If it’s not Teddy, who is it?”
“How did the talk with Brittany go?” Rao ignored the question.
“As good as can be, I guess.” He shrugged. “Why?”
“Who you really wanted to interview was Jessica. Am I right?”
Victor raised his brows and gave a dark chuckle. “I can’t say I was looking forward to it. But I am disappointed that I couldn’t find her.”
Rao raised up and down her lightly whiskered brows. “That’s because she’s not in Heaven.”
A mix of horror and amusement bubbled up from within. “You mean my ex-ex-gi
rlfriend is in Hell?” Imagining her in a sparkly red bikini while breathing fire at him made him nearly laugh.
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Rao said, not laughing.
“Well, then? Where?”
Standing on all fours, Rao said, “Follow me. This is the other reason I came down to you tonight. I’ll show you.”
*
Victor entered the jail cell, nervousness tingling throughout his spirit. There, crumpled in the corner of the empty room, sat Jessica. Her eyes instantly widened at the sight of him.
“Victor?” she uttered. The left side of her face had a muddy streak.
“Jessica?” he stepped right over to her. “Y-you’re alive?”
“No,” she said standing, spreading her arms out wide. “I’m dead. Deader than dead. Can’t you tell?”
“Not really.” He looked down at his own translucence and back to her.
“Well, I am.” She opened her jean jacket all the way. Slash marks emblazoned her pink shirt.
“Ouch…” was all he could say in his shock.
“Yeah, ouch!” she snarled, tossing some bouncy blond hair over a shoulder, showing off a matted-in-mud hunk of tresses.
“But… what is this place, and how come…”
“This is what they call Spirit Prison, Victor. I’m not surprised you’ve never heard of the place, seeing as how you were such a good boy you made it to Heaven.” She stuck a hand through her chest and pulled it back out without consequence. “I’m nothing but spirit, too, only I don’t have that glow you angels have. My hair, my skin—there’s no conditioner or cream that can help me get that glow, either.” She huffed. “I can’t even wash the dirt off. I’m left looking the way I did right after death until I’m stationed somewhere. Yeah, get this—they’re deciding whether I should go to Heaven or Hell. They say this isn’t Hell, just a holding place, but it is Hell to me.”
Seeing that she didn’t have a baby bump, Victor dared ask, “And the baby? Where is it?”
Jessica’s brow scrunched over her fiery green eyes. “It’s not an it, Victor. He was a boy. I would have given birth to him in just three more months, if it weren’t for…” Anger and sadness flashed in her eyes, and she looked away.
“I’m sorry,” Victor uttered. This was going worse than expected. He didn’t expect to feel so much heaviness, so much sorrow.
When she looked back up, she said, “He’s in Heaven.”
It was Victor’s turn to look down. When he met her eyes again, Jessica’s expression was softened. If she were alive, he would have definitely expected tears.
And then as fast as that, she snapped, thrashing at Victor. Punches to his face and kicks to his gut did nothing but send heated ripples of hate through him. But that was bad enough. He took hold of Jessica’s shoulders and did the only thing he could think to do. He hugged her.
She struggled in his hold before crumpling out of his grasp to the floor. “Why’d you break up with me? This never would’ve happened if we were still together.” She looked up at him with pure anguish.
Victor fell for the guilt trip for a moment, hating himself, but quickly snapped out of it. Sitting down with her, he said, “You and I are too different.” He quickly realized that was the same exact line Lacey had given him, but it was true. Besides, he thought to himself, there was that little thing about being a gold-digger that turned him off.
Her face straightened, and she said with acceptance, “You’re right. Look at you. And look at me. You were always the do-gooder. I’m sure you were fast-tracked to your Heavenly mansion.”
The word mansion made him cringe. That gold-digger thing again. “You know that’s a metaphor, that scripture about mansions in Heaven. Hey, listen,” he put a hand to her muddy cheek, “for what it’s worth, I really am sorry this happened to you. Nobody should have to experience what you did.”
She eventually shrugged and said, “How did you die?”
“You didn’t hear?” He remembered her sitting in at his funeral in a large black sunhat. “I was murdered, too. Poisoned.”
Jessica gave a dark chuckle. “If only I could have been poisoned.”
“Jessica,” he said, drawing her eyes to his again. “I don’t know how much time I’m given here to visit you. I have some questions. I’m on assignment from Heaven to help close your case on earth. Think you can help me?”
“I don’t know. Do you think you can help me?”
He didn’t expect that response. “How?”
“For all the hate I hold in my heart, I wouldn’t care to be sent to Hell.” She looked to her right, batting her eyes in emotion. “I’ve done some terrible things, Victor. Things you can’t imagine. I probably deserve to live with others like me for the rest of my life, in eternal torment. But this Prison is also an opportunity for a second chance, I’m told. And I have a baby boy waiting for me up in Heaven. I have to make it there, if only for him, so he can have his mommy.”
That tugged at Victor’s heart like almost nothing before. He gulped, taking a moment to compose himself. “You’re better than you think you are.”
Jessica looked away as if not believing it. Peering back into his eyes, she said, “Do we have a deal?”
“Deal. Who murdered you?”
TWENTY-FIVE
Jessica repositioned into sitting Indian style, her Ugg boots splattered in mud. Victor mirrored her. “It’s not that simple,” she sighed.
“Not that simple? Is this another rule of the afterlife? You can’t just tell me who murdered you?”
“Yeah, I had a visit from some cat who told me, and I quote, ‘Never divulge to a handsome visitor in blue who was responsible for your death.’ That it was ‘important to the case’ for you not to know yet. It would ‘ruin everything’ if I just blurted it.”
“Rao,” Victor muttered. Glancing down at his blue shirt, he said, “She gave me a compliment?”
“Excuse me?” Jessica was perplexed.
“Nothing. Never mind. Go on.” He should have known. If Rao wasn’t allowed to say whodunit, why would Jessica? “What are you allowed to tell me?”
“Ask me about me,” she said with some apprehension in her pouty pink lips.
“Your favorite subject,” he said without thinking.
Jessica scowled.
“I mean, this is pertinent to the case?”
“Yes,” she said hotly.
“Okay, what’s your favorite color?”
Rolling her eyes, Jessica scolded. “OMG, you must be the worst ex-boyfriend there is. It’s pink—duh—and that’s not what I meant about you asking me personal questions.”
“A little help here?” He put his hands up.
“Ask me why I’m such a terrible person.” Her voice shook.
“I don’t know if I’m comfortable...”
Jessica’s stare could’ve sliced through him.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll rephrase. Why do you think you’re such a terrible person?”
Jessica’s chest puffed out with a deep breath. “Okay, remember how I followed you to Tokyo?”
“Stalked.” The word shot out of his mouth, and he instantly felt bad again.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” she admitted. “Well, my college funds were running low. The loans and Daddy’s money were about down to zilch.” She pinched the air in emphasis. “I-I was poor,” she nearly choked out in embarrassment.
Victor gave a crooked smile. “That doesn’t make you a bad person, being poor.”
“No, dummy, listen. I’m not done.” She huffed again. “I needed money fast. When you rejected me, I ran out of options. Desperate, I went to a modeling agency called Trend.”
“I’ve heard of them.” Victor nodded.
“Other girls on campus were having success through them. It was supposed to be my ticket out of being broke as a joke. It was a successful plan at first. I was one of—no, I was the top model there. In my first month, I made a ton of money.”
“Okay,” Victor nodded, se
eing how this might actually go somewhere important to the case.
“But there was suddenly a dry spell, for some reason. Geo, the demented photographer and booker, wasn’t scheduling me jobs anymore. It made no sense. I was the best they had. Why were they booking girls uglier than me for jobs I could’ve easily done? Do you see what I mean?”
“Hmmm…” Victor feigned sympathy, biting his lip. “Strange.”
“Anyway, Geo pulled me aside one day, a day I stomped into the agency to demand answers. He told me that he just didn’t have any interested clientele. He blamed it on the market, a seasonal thing. Didn’t make sense, because summer wasn’t over yet, and I totally have a body made for summer. Right?” she said, demanding confirmation.
“Uh, you’re a beautiful woman. Yes.”
“I know, right? So, anyway, he pulled me aside and told me he knew of a better job offer. If I wanted to make more money than at Trend, that I needed to talk with these two girls from school—Rebecca and Emily. They could hook me up.”
Victor’s brows perked up. “Some sorority girls?”
“Yes,” Jessica nodded, going on, “Anyway, I should have never listened to Geo. I knew he was off his rocker, and not to mention, so super jealous of me.”
“What did it lead you to?” Victor asked, his blue eyes anxious. “Meeting up with Rebecca and Emily?”
Shuddering in her jean jacket, Jessica finally confessed. “Prostitution.”
*
“Prostitution?” Lacey said, brushing her hair as quickly as she could. Victor was behind her, arms folded and nodding. Morning light had broken through the small bathroom’s window just a half hour earlier, when Lacey sprang out of bed after getting a text from Geo at Trend.
“Crazy, right?” Victor said.
“Is that… how she got pregnant, I’m assuming?”
Again, Victor nodded. “She doesn’t know by whom. She was often drunk or drugged up to get through her ‘sessions.’”
“That is so tragic,” Lacey said, setting down the brush in exchange for lipstick. She rubbed it across her full lips, and added, “You say Geo had something to do with it?”
“Yep.” He paused. “That’s a great color on you.”