Tessa Randolph Cozy Mysteries, Books 1-3
Author: Christine Zane Thomas; Paula Lester
Date: 2021-02-23 00:00:00+00:00
Description: A Grim Outlook Tessa Randolph has been dumped. She's jobless and on the borderline of moving in with her overbearing mother. Turns out, her mom doesn't want that either. She offers Tessa a job. Only Cooper's Life Insurance, where Tessa's mom has worked for years, isn't what it seems to be. Turns out, Cheryl Randolph has been working undercover--under the cover of a hooded grim reaper cloak. Now, Tessa's a grim reaper too. And while dealing with death all day every day is enough to make her go crazy, there always seems to be a mystery her scythe gets snagged on. Join Tessa as she investigates m
Publisher: Paula Lester and Christine Zane Thomas

The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3

Christine Zane Thomas and Paula Lester

Published by Paula Lester and Christine Zane Thomas, 2021.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Book 2: The Scythe’s Secrets: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Book 3: Reap What She Sows: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Also By Christine Zane Thomas

About Christine Zane Thomas

About Paula Lester

Copyright Notice

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

Tessa Randolph Cozy Mysteries, Books 1-3

First edition.

Copyright © 2020 Paula Lester and Christine Zane Thomas.

Written by Paula Lester and Christine Zane Thomas.

Cover Design by Mariah Sinclair at thecovervault.com

Chapter 1

IT WAS A HORRIBLE DAY for escorting recently dead people to the other side. Truly nasty, with a chilly, persistent rain and a general gray haze in the air that seemed as though it had the ability to cling to a person like the muslin wrappings of a long-dead mummy.

Not that any day could be considered a great one for reaping souls, but since it was Tessa Randolph’s first day on the job, she’d been hoping for sunshine and warmth. An inkling told her that reaping was neither an indoor nor outdoor job but a little bit of both. Still, she hoped the day would be mostly about paperwork.

Isn’t that the norm? She was sure she’d be watching instructional videos and filling out the necessary tax forms all day. Then again, this wasn’t a normal job.

Tessa’s key slid from the car’s ignition as if it wasn’t even required. She patted the dashboard. “You don’t like the wet weather either, do you, Linda?”

The 1981 Buick LeSabre didn’t answer but shuddered a bit as its engine responded belatedly to the cue to stop running.

The old four-door behemoth might as well be a tank. She’d gotten away unscathed from two accidents, keeping Tessa safe too. And she couldn’t be coaxed to move more than sixty miles per hour. But Tessa loved her and babied the car like an aging relative. And Linda had never left Tessa on the side of the road, unlike her last boyfriend.

Tessa’s thin knit cardigan sagged over her shoulder, and she pulled it tighter around her chest. She peered at the building in front of her. It was a nondescript, squat gray brick structure with no obvious windows. The wooden sign over the front door said Cooper’s Life Insurance. It was broken right in the center, the two halves sagging. The walkway to the front door was similarly run-down, with cracked concrete jutting up at odd angles, creating trip hazards galore. The hedges in front of the building didn’t appear to have been trimmed for at least a decade, resembling jungle plants more than suburban landscaping.

Tessa bent her neck to gaze above the depressing scene. A dark cloud hung right over the building. She sighed.

It wasn’t a life insurance company—that was just a ruse to keep humans away from the place, as was the atmosphere of creepy deterioration of the grounds.

For the hundredth time in the past week, Tessa wondered how, exactly, she’d gotten to this point in her life. She was starting a new job she had zero interest in doing, with a boss she’d rather shave her head and give up all her beloved purses than work for.

She ran her hands through thick black hair, mentally sending it an apology for even thinking about getting rid of it. It was truly her most favorite feature, and she identified with it, spending hours every week keeping it soft and healthy. Still, if it meant she didn’t have to start the new job, Tessa may very well have sacrificed the swoon-worthy locks.

With all the reluctance of a toddler heading off to sleep for the night, Tessa grabbed the brown Burberry knockoff bag from the seat next to her, clutched it tightly to her chest, and zoomed out of the car. She raced for the building, thankful for all the years spent in dance class as she deftly avoided the broken pieces of concrete and burst into the business’ lobby. The heavy door slammed behind her as Tessa stood there taking it in, dripping rainwater into a pool beneath her on the floor.

“You know, most civilized people would use an umbrella.”

The sharp voice, oozing with self-righteousness, seemed to physically attack Tessa’s ears. She had to fight the urge to run away—she couldn’t escape to her room like she always had as a teen.

Instead, she smiled at the speaker as graciously as she could muster. “Actually, I find the rain refreshing. And a little water never made anyone melt, Mom.”

Cheryl Randolph stood leaning on the doorjamb of her office, her arms crossed. She’d provided the genetics for Tessa’s dark hair but kept hers in a sassy inverted bob with frosted tips. She regarded her daughter through red cat-eye glasses. Her glittering blue eyes, also the same color as Tessa’s, showed no indication she was going to take it easy on her daughter. Quite the opposite.

She pursed her lips, covered with a shade of lipstick that matched her eyewear exactly, and then smirked. “You’re a reaper, not a witch. So, you’re right. Rain won’t melt you. But it will ruin your makeup.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Good thing I didn’t wear makeup today.”

“Or ever,” her mother retorted smartly.

Tessa frowned, looking down at her feet. Her mother was the queen of the one-up. They could stand there all day trading jabs, but she knew her mom would always get in the last punch. And Cheryl was right. Contrary to what she’d said, Tessa absolutely hated rain and chilly weather. Her idea of heaven involved flip-flops, a beach chair, and a margarita.

Maybe she should have worn galoshes. Instead, she’d chosen comfort, wearing her baby blue Converse sneakers and skinny jeans. After all, her mother hadn’t mentioned anything about a dress code.

Cheryl dismissed Tessa’s bravado with a wave. “Come on. Let’s get you started.” She glanced at the Rolex on her delicate wrist. “You need to be at your first assignment in twenty minutes.”

Tessa groaned. Of course, she’d already been given an assignment.

Her Chuck Taylors felt like they had tiny lead weights in them as she shuffled toward her mother’s office.

The inside of the building was a stark contrast to the outside. The lobby floor was green and beige swirled marble. It was lined by six office doors in a ring. A large desk stood in the center of the wall directly across from the front door, but it was unmanned at the moment. Well, thank goodness for small miracles. The secretary was even more annoying than Tessa’s mom.

A large sign made up of bronze metal letters hung on the wall above the desk, proclaiming the actual name of the business to be The Final Journey Agency.

Tessa snorted, just as she had a week earlier when she saw the name for the first time. If a human happened to get through the dismal exterior and make it inside looking for life insurance, the name wouldn’t let them know what the place actually was—a reaper agency—but it would be quite the downer.

Until a week earlier, Tessa hadn’t had any idea such places existed. She’d certainly never known her mother worked for one. She’d received quite an education about the original Grim Reaper and how, centuries earlier, overwhelmed by the boom in the world’s population, he’d contracted out his duties.

Apparently, the original Grim Reaper now lived in the lap of luxury somewhere in the Caribbean while others, mere mortals magically imbued with his mystical abilities to transport souls across the veil between worlds, did all the heavy lifting for him.

The corners of Tessa’s mouth twitched downward. She’d needed a change, that was for sure. When that ex-boyfriend, Frank, left her on the side of the road, she’d spent two hours soul-searching as she trudged home. And she’d decided to completely overhaul her life. Get a real career instead of continuing the waitressing job that had sapped the life force out of her for ten years.

Besides, she was pretty sure if Frank didn’t want her as a girlfriend, he probably wouldn’t continue to employ her at his restaurant either. What made it worse was all the overtime pay he’d promised her. She was never going to see that.

In the past, in dire circumstances such as these, she’d ask her dad for help. But that was the past. Tessa had to make the painful decision to go to her mother and ask for a loan to float her while she went back to school to become a nurse.

But Cheryl had other ideas. It turned out she’d recently been promoted and needed to train a replacement.

Tessa hadn’t liked the idea of becoming a life insurance agent, but there wasn’t much choice. Reluctantly, she’d gone to the agency with her mother and learned the truth.

Cheryl’s office was a minimalist’s dream. A glass desk, holding only a laptop, stood against the far wall, flanked by two black office chairs that looked so uncomfortable they seemed specifically designed to discourage sitting. The walls, painted a light rose color, were devoid of any pictures—not a one of Tessa or her father. Only a clock, which ticked louder than any Tessa had encountered in her life, hung on the otherwise blank canvas. Two silver metal filing cabinets and a coat rack with an umbrella and raincoat hanging on it completed the room’s décor, if one decided to use that term liberally.

Tessa plopped into the chair, drawing a critical frown from her mother. But Cheryl didn’t correct her posture. She went around to the other side of the desk, lowered herself gracefully into the chair, all the while maintaining her usual ramrod-straight posture. She clicked a few keys on the laptop. “You’re all set.”

“I’m set? I thought you said you had to perform a ceremony to grant me my abilities?” Tessa had pictured something like a sprinkling of fairy dust or an ordainment with a scythe.

“That was it.” Cheryl’s eyes stayed glued to her laptop screen. “You’re a grim reaper. Your first assignment is out at the Sweetwater Golf Course. Mr. Dale Jeffries.”

Cheryl spun the laptop around so Tessa could see the picture of a balding elderly man wearing thick-rimmed glasses. He was beaming with good-natured spirit.

Tessa scanned the paragraph below the photo to see how he was going to die and grimaced. “Harsh.”

“It’s not so bad, really. You’ll encounter much worse.” Cheryl’s perfectly manicured eyebrows rose like butterflies caught on a gentle breeze. “It’s not a hard job, Theresa. All you have to do is show up, and you can make a mint. It’s showing up. That’s the important bit.”

“Tessa,” she corrected, trying not to grimace at the use of her full name and to ignore the pleading tone in her mother’s voice.

Sure, her mother wanted good things for her. But this was a hard job. She’d lost countless hours of sleep over it in the past week. She liked the idea of gently aiding the recently deceased on to the next point in their journey, but she wasn’t anxious to be there in the final moments of their lives.

Still, she’d read the contract carefully, and it was a non-negotiable part of her job. She wouldn’t get paid for any assignment if it were missed. And if it was missed, there could be dire consequences. That was where the contract was vague.

“Fine. I guess I’ll head over now.” Tessa rose and headed out, stopping in the doorway to launch a question over her shoulder. “Wait. Isn’t that the golf course Dad liked to play so much?”

Cheryl’s expression visibly softened, and she nodded. “He never shot under par, but he kept on trying.” She blinked a few times as though something had gotten into her eye and then grinned. “Have a good time, The—Tessa,” Cheryl corrected.

“I’ll try.” Tessa snatched the umbrella off the coat rack and left.

Outside, the rain had turned to a drizzle. Linda grumbled like a slumbering beast woken by a gallant knight when Tessa turned the key in the ignition. “Come on, girl. Mama needs a paycheck.”

The car let out an irritated breath and then roared to life. Tessa hooted and fist-pumped. “Good girl!” she cried.

The weather began to clear up as she drove to the golf course, and Tessa even rolled down the window and turned on the radio. I Wanna Dance with Somebody blared from the speakers, and she sang along with abandon until she pulled into the golf club parking lot where the sun was shining.

Just like her father always joked, it never rains on the golf course.

Managing to slide past the front desk workers, Tessa went through the clubhouse and emerged onto a putting green, breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass. Ah. This was more like it.

She glanced at her watch, frowning a little. Dale Jeffries was supposed to pass away in four minutes, but it seemed highly unlikely to occur the way the assignment had said it would, given the current weather conditions.

From the green, she scanned the course and saw a group of golfers up on the final tee. She wandered that direction and immediately recognized her target.

He saw her too and approached, grinning. “Hey, sweetheart. Can you bring me a beer and some pretzels? I’ll give you a good tip.” He winked, obviously thinking she was a cart girl.

Tessa narrowed her eyes at the man. She’d spent enough years waitressing and should probably be used to men taking liberties—talking their cutesy, degrading terms and giving thinly veiled orders. But she wasn’t. She still wanted to deck every guy who did it, including this one.

But it wasn’t necessary to put Dale in his place. Anyway, she’d soon be delivering him to a new plane of existence. Then maybe he’d learn.

“I’m all out of pretzels,” she said, putting up the umbrella in her hand, gazing ruefully at him.

As though someone had flipped off a light switch, the sky suddenly darkened, only to brighten again almost immediately by a flash of lightning. The thunder followed it so closely they seemed to overlap, and a sheet of heavy rain poured down like someone had turned on a faucet. “You should get inside. The lightning’s close.”

She knew it was probably against the rules for her to say such a thing. Dale Jeffries was her mark, and saying anything that may cause him to avoid his scheduled death had to be forbidden.

It didn’t matter, though. Dale just shook his head, sending rain droplets spraying all over the place. “Bah,” he scoffed. “I’m having the best round of my life. There’s no way I’m going in now. One more shot. Then, even if I two-putt, I’ll win.”

The other three men in his party hurried past, racing for the clubhouse, but Dale turned back to the cart, searching for the club he wanted. Finding it, he held it over his head in triumph.

He never saw the lightning strike coming, and when Dale’s soul emerged from his body, it looked hopping mad. “What? Now? Now is when I die? When I was going to hit under eighty!” He shook both transparent fists in the air and raged at the storm in the sky. “Why?”

His angry cry ended on a sob, and he covered his face.

“I’m sorry,” Tessa said. She meant it. Sort of. “But it’s time to go. I have to take you over now.”

Dale peered at her between his fingers. “I’m going to heaven with a cart girl?”

“No,” she snapped. “You’re being escorted to the other side of the veil by a professional reaper. That’s me. Now, let’s go. My socks and shoes are soaked. And this caps one of the worst weeks of my life.”

“Life,” Dale said sadly. “At least you’ve still got one.”

Chapter 2

TESSA GROANED AS SHE shuffled through envelopes she’d pulled out of the tiny metal cubbyhole marked 114. All three were bills. Of course. But really, what was she expecting? A check from Frank for all her back pay and overtime?

She snorted. He’d made it pretty clear they were finished. And that he was done dealing with her.

She stared at the empty mailbox, part of a long bank of them in the small room attached to the Mist River Manor lobby, thinking it would’ve been nice to see a rebate flyer. Or maybe a coupon for a few bucks off a pizza. This was what it came down to—wishing for junk mail. For anything except multiple demands for money she didn’t have.

Tessa sighed and stuffed the envelopes into her purse. She took a second to caress the soft material. At least she still had her knock-offs. And a new job that should help her get caught up quickly.

She squeezed the bag to her side like a child might hug a favorite stuffed animal for comfort and turned away from the bank of mailboxes, gasping as she found herself face-to-face with a man.

“Oh! Sorry, Mr. Sanborn. I didn’t see you there.” Tessa shrunk backward. She pulled the bag in front of her, close to her chest, as though it could somehow create more space between the two of them. Chet Sanborn was inside her bubble, and he was in the way.

Sanborn lived directly above Tessa, on the second floor. She saw him around sometimes but did her level best to avoid him. He was an unpleasant man who always managed to make Tessa’s skin crawl with his ogling. And if his leering eyes weren’t enough, sometimes he added lewd comments to the mix.

He waved away her apology. “Call me Chet.”

He said that every time they had an interaction. Tessa never complied. Somehow, using his last name felt like keeping him at figurative arm’s length. If only he was at literal arm’s length right now.

Sanborn leaned in, closer to both his mailbox and Tessa. “And being run into by you would be no hardship, ma’am.” He grinned. “I’ll tell you that.”

Sanborn hitched up his gray polyester shorts. The waistband was being sorely tested by his ample middle section. The orange tank top was similarly strained and couldn’t quite manage its job of covering the bottom of his furry abdomen.

Tessa tried to ease backward, but her spine hit the metal boxes. She was trapped. She forced a smile. “That’s . . . kind of you.”

Her eyes darted around the man, searching for a way to escape without seeming rude. But if worse came to worst and their interaction lasted more than another minute—she’d have no problem resorting to rudeness.

Sanborn rubbed a hand through the twenty or thirty strands of hair on top of his head and then scratched a patch of the salt-and-pepper ring just above his right ear.

He got closer, his key out to open the mailbox above hers. It was now or never. Tessa ducked under his outstretched arm, shuddering. She’d definitely felt a spritz of moisture from the man’s hairy underarm. He didn’t have the type of physique to pull off a tank top.

“See ya.” It was both a farewell and a way of life.

She was almost out of the room and away when Sanborn spoke again. He didn’t seem to find her clumsy escape act remotely unusual or a signal that the conversation should be over.

“Aren’t you usually at work this time o’ day?”

Tessa spun on her heels. Sanborn’s question acted like a physical barrier that kept her from sprinting away. “I have a new job now, so my hours will be different than they were at the restaurant.”

“Oh, yeah?” He glanced at her as he pulled open the door to his box. “What’s your new gig?”

It took her brain a moment to remember what she was supposed to say in such a circumstance. “Uh . . . I’m at a life insurance company.”

She took another step to the side, preparing to sprint across the lobby. She prepped her getaway to the door leading to her apartment’s hallway. But before she could move, an obstacle stepped in the way. Silas St. Onge.

Great.

Tessa wanted to talk to Silas less than she did Sanborn.

Okay, that wasn’t quite true. Under normal circumstances, spending five minutes in conversation with her hot landlord wouldn’t cause her the least bit of inconvenience. It would give her a chance to watch for the adorable dimple in his right cheek and study the cute mop of sandy blond hair that loved to flop over his eye.

She shook her head to clear those naughty thoughts. These weren’t normal circumstances. It was a horrible time to run into Silas.

Sanborn had said something, but Tessa had totally missed it. She didn’t want him to back up and repeat it, either, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She laughed like he’d told her a joke she found hilarious.

The confusion that raced across his face confirmed she’d chosen the wrong reaction. Oh, well. Too late to turn back now.

Tessa kept an eye on Silas and hoped he’d continue talking to Mrs. Cross, the elderly resident of apartment 130.

“Have a good day!” she called to Sanborn. Then Tessa power-walked across the lobby to the door leading to the back courtyard, ignoring Sanborn’s voice behind her.

She didn’t stop moving when the fresh air hit her but hurried across the brick walk to a side door. She pushed through the heavy metal door into the hallway and chuckled with relief. That had been a close one.

Tessa started toward her door, moving more slowly while she dug in the purse for keys. But just as her fingers grazed metal, the door at the opposite end of the hallway popped open, and Silas strode through.

Oh, no! She increased her speed, pulling out the keys. Silas’s long strides delivered him to 114 before Tessa could get there. He blocked her way. “Tessa.” He grinned. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“Yeah. Hi. Um, I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now.” She ignored the dimple and how it made her feel.

“This will just take a second.”

The amount of time it took wasn’t the problem. She knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You’re a few days late on your rent.” Silas shook his head, looking apologetic.

Tessa watched the hair flop over his eye. Focus! Stop being distracted by his adorableness. It was hard, though. Not only was Silas pretty much the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen, but he also seemed to have no idea. Unfortunately for her, that made him even more attractive.

“Yeah. I know,” she said. “I’m really sorry. It’s just . . . I lost my job. But I got a new one,” she hurried to say before Silas could react. “And I’ll have the money to you by the end of the week. I swear.”

Tessa held her breath. She hoped he went for it. It wasn’t like Silas owned the building. He was sort of a property manager extraordinaire—the guy who handled everything from maintenance to rent collection. He also happened to be kind of a pushover. Tessa had no idea how he managed to keep the place’s owners off his back because she couldn’t be the only resident who constantly needed extra time to pay. Still, she lived in fear that one day, and maybe this was that day, he’d say no when she begged for extra time.

“Okay.” He sighed. “That’ll work. But Friday is the very last day I can stretch it for you.”

“I’ll have it for you then for sure.”

Silas moved away from the door a few steps but then stopped and turned back toward her. Though he’d sounded like a softy before, his tone suddenly turned authoritative. “By the way. That cat you don’t own was peering out your window today when I went past. You know the pet fee is another hundred per month.”

Maybe Silas wasn’t as much of a pushover as she’d thought.

Ugh. Pepper knew better than to hang out in the window during the day. Tessa was going to have to have a firm discussion with the black cat. Maybe if she withheld those soft salmon-flavored treats for a few days, the naughty kitty would learn Tessa meant business.

Lie. Lie. Lie. Tessa’s brain caught up to the conversation. “She’s actually Frank’s cat. I’m just watching her for a few days.”

Silas’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you and Frank broke up.”

Tessa winced. How did he know that?

Oh, right. Mist River was the world’s smallest town—with the biggest grapevine made up of a network of elderly folk who treated gossiping like a job. In fact, Tessa would bet money that Mrs. Cross had been telling Silas about the breakup in the lobby just a few minutes earlier.

“Um.” Brilliant, Tessa.

Silas waved a hand. “Whatever. Just get me the check by Friday. And do something about the cat.”

As she let herself into the apartment at last, Tessa’s chest felt heavy. She dropped her purse on the ratty blue couch that was a hand-me-down from her mother.

“Pepper.” She made high-pitched kitty calls. “We need to have a talk, missy! Get your furry behind out here.”

But the place was silent. The cat had probably heard the discussion in the hallway and knew making herself scarce was the best idea. Cats are smart that way.

The apartment was tiny but clean. And thanks to Silas, everything was in good working order. The kitchen had cream-colored linoleum flooring and a matching counter, barely enough to hold a cutting board at only two-feet long. There was no dishwasher, but Tessa mainly used paper plates anyway. When she cooked.

She opened the refrigerator, surveyed the contents, and sighed. There were three half-used cans of cat food with plastic lids, half a jar of mayonnaise, and some sliced cheese. She pulled out the cheese and opened a cupboard, fist-pumping when she found a sleeve of crackers. It was her lucky night.

Ten minutes later, she settled onto the couch with her favorite purple crocheted blanket, a plate of cheese and crackers, and a glass of wine. Thank goodness for Two Buck Chuck.

She used the remote to turn on the TV and navigated to the streaming service, holding her breath like she always did, waiting to see if the WiFi would work. She shared it with her friend, Abigail, who lived in the apartment next door, and sometimes, it couldn’t keep up with both of them needing to watch rom-coms at the same time.

The service fired right up. Abi must be sleeping already. Or maybe she had a date. Unlike Tessa. Who was single, broke, and not at all in control of her life.

Loud footfalls overhead made Tessa glare at the ceiling. How could someone as icky as Sanborn have guests as often as he did?

Tessa kicked out a leg toward the coffee table when Pepper’s head popped up beside it. The cat balanced on her hind legs, looking wary, as though expecting her owner to shoo her away. But Tessa shook her head and patted the cushion next to her. “Come on up, you little brat.”

Pepper accepted the invitation, curling into a tight ball next to Tessa’s hip. She smiled for probably the first time that day.

“You’re going to have to get a job, you know,” she told Pepper as she stroked her soft fur. “You can’t expect my new gig to cover an extra hundred bucks a month for you to look out a window. What is there to look at anyway? An empty pool?”

Pepper seemed unconcerned, tiny snuffles emitting from her nose as she snore-purred.

Tessa chuckled. If only her life was as easy as the cat’s. She snuggled down into the comfortable couch. As the movie’s opening credits popped up on the screen, she thought about her first assignment and hoped Dale was settling into his afterlife. And she hoped she could settle into the routine of sending people there.

Chapter 3

THE NEXT DAY, WITH the sunshine pouring through the windows, Tessa got ready a lot faster than usual. She was almost looking forward to the grim tasks of the day. She realized that it was all a matter of perspective. Everyone and everything had an expiration date, and that was something out of her control.

As she crossed the courtyard, she glanced at the complex’s swimming pool. It glittered in the sun’s rays. An optical illusion. If only it was warm enough to consider a dip after work. She knew Silas worked hard to remove the leaves every afternoon, keeping the pool in tip-top shape for its eventual opening later in the spring.

Tessa wore a thick sweater against the chill. She was happy to be able to wear her cute purple sunglasses against the glare.

Linda’s engine turned over immediately and purred all the way to the Last Journey office. Tessa glanced at the clock in the dash. Ha! She was a full five minutes early.

She strode carefully over the dilapidated sidewalk, allowing herself to feel a moment of smugness. Her mother had clearly thought Tessa couldn’t handle the job—especially the being on time part. It felt good to prove Cheryl wrong.

The lot was missing Cheryl’s fancy silver Audi. For once, Tessa had managed to arrive before her mom.

The lobby was deserted. Tessa made her way to the closet-sized office her mother had said was hers and booted up the laptop. It took her a couple minutes to remember how to get into the system to check her assignments.

Tessa remembered something as she watched the rolling ball on the screen do its thing while the computer slowly came to life. It was something Cheryl had said about forwarding messages to her email because the assignments went out at midnight each night. In fact, her mother had insisted she do it right then and there. But Tessa had convinced her not to worry, insisting she was competent and would do it before she left work.

Of course, she’d forgotten.

A whisper of worry slithered into her mind. “Come on,” she muttered, tapping her fingernails on the tarnished metal desk.

The ball stopped rolling and an assignment popped up. Tessa gasped. Her stomach twisted into a knot.

There on the screen, seeming to ogle at her as usual, was Chet Sanborn. She scanned the short paragraph under his picture, but it wasn’t right. It had the time of death, but where it was supposed to give the cause, it said unforeseen.

Tessa noted the time. Nine-thirty in the morning. Well, at least she wouldn’t be late. Then she glanced at the computer’s clock and sputtered. It was already nine-fifteen.

“What?”

The truth slammed into her. Linda’s clock must be off. And every time Tessa tried to change it, she couldn’t figure out how. Ancient cars with their archaic problems, including non-self-changing clocks.

Tessa jumped from the chair and immediately doubled over as a stab of pain shot through her knee. She’d banged her leg on the desk in her haste. She fought the urge to let out a few curses.

Hopping toward the doorway, Tessa lost her balance and crashed into the doorframe. Another jolt of pain—this one went through her shoulder.

“Argh,” she cried as tears sprang to her eyes. She had to take a few seconds to breathe, waiting for the worst of the pain to subside before she could continue.

She made for Linda as fast as her bruised body would allow, making quick calculations in her head. She should have just enough time. Her apartment complex wasn’t that far away.

If she didn’t, the “company” probably wouldn’t pay her for the assignment. And that meant she may not have enough money to cover the rent she’d promised Silas by Friday.

When she got to the car, Tessa grabbed the handle and yanked. It didn’t budge. Her fingers skidded along the metal. She yelped as two of her nails bent backward. That was more than she could take. She let a swear word fly. Then she fumbled for the car’s key.

Behind her, a car door slammed. Tessa hoped it wasn’t Cheryl, there to see her quick fall from grace. She would for sure remind her errant kid she should’ve forwarded those emails. If she had, she wouldn’t have had to go into the office at all. She could’ve waited at her apartment complex for Sanborn to pass.

Tessa spun on her heels, ready for the worst. But it wasn’t Cheryl. Instead, a lovely woman, about Tessa’s age, with dark skin and almond-shaped eyes gave her a bemused look.

Tessa ducked her head in silent apology, gave a little wave, and turned back toward Linda. She finally managed to get the door open and slink into the car. Through the window, she watched the woman glide, straight-backed, into the building.

Tessa turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. Linda did not make a single sound.

“Oh, come on,” Tessa breathed out. “Don’t you do this to me. Not now, baby.” She rubbed the dashboard like it was a sick puppy. Speaking in a tone one may use on an infant, Tessa begged, “Just take Mama home and I’ll let you sleep for the rest of the day, okay? Deal?”

Nothing.

Losing patience, Tessa slammed a palm into the steering wheel and glared at it. It was edging closer to nine-thirty.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me right now,” Tessa grumbled. “Do you want me to lose this job? You won’t be getting any oil changes if I do, I can tell you that.”

In fact, the first thing she was going to do with her paycheck—if she got one at all, was pay a half-dozen bills and the rent and buy some real food. Then, if there was any money left, she was going to look for a new car. But there was no way she was going to let Linda know about that future betrayal.

She pulled out her cell phone and stared at it for a minute, wondering if Mist River had Uber. She had no idea. Tessa didn’t have a data plan on her phone—she couldn’t afford it. So, she’d have to do the old-fashioned thing. Call information. She dialed 411, asked for Uber, and then listened to the woman chuckle. “Don’t you have the app?”

Tessa answered through gritted teeth. “No. I don’t. Is there a number?”

“I can find you a cab company. We still have a few of those.” The clicking of laptop buttons came over the line and then the woman announced she found a number. “Shall I connect you?”

“Yes, please.”

After a quick talk with a woman with a thick southern accent, it was clear that the soonest a cab could arrive would be twenty minutes. Tessa didn’t have that kind of time. She tried the car one more time, but it still ignored her polite request to start. With a groan, she jumped out of the car and started jogging. Ten steps later, she slowed to a walk, wheezing and holding her side. Admonishing herself for being so out of shape and never getting around to doing that thing where people went from completely inactive to running marathons in six months, she decided the best she’d be able to do was power-walk.

She pushed onward. She’d wasted so much time already. The next half a mile, with her paycheck on the line, felt like an insurmountable distance.

As the building came into sight, she started feeling uncomfortable. She didn’t really want to be there for Chet Sanborn’s last moments. It wasn’t like the guy was a friend—she’d always tried to avoid him as much as possible. But still, she knew him personally. The thought of watching him die gave her the heebie-jeebies. And, she had to admit, it gave her a stab of sadness. Just because she didn’t like talking to the man didn’t mean she wanted him to die.

Tessa glanced at her phone to check the time as she arrived in front of the apartment building. Nine forty-five. She was super late. The only thing she could hope for now was that Mr. Sanborn’s soul was still hanging around his body. The poor guy had been there alone for fifteen minutes.

She hurried across the lobby to the stairwell and sprinted up the steps to the second floor. There, she had to pause and drag in some breaths again before heading down to Chet Sanborn’s apartment.

Upon arrival, she found his door was open. First, the unforeseen cause of death, now this. Her neck prickled with gooseflesh.

“Mr. Sanborn?”

There was no answer. After a few moments, Tessa crept into the apartment. The kitchen light was on, and she found a plate of sausage and eggs on the counter. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes. Tessa shuddered as her shoe stuck to the floor. Gross.

The plate of food didn’t look touched. She whirled around and scanned the living room. No Mr. Sanborn. Just piles of clothes, newspapers, and a game of Solitaire laid out on the coffee table.

Okay, okay. Just stay calm. He’s got to be around here somewhere.

She took some breaths to punctuate the self-pep-talk and forced herself through the living room and down the hall. The apartment was set up just like hers, so she knew there would be a bathroom to the left and then a bedroom at the end of the hall.

Maybe he pulled an Elvis. But the bathroom was empty. And disgusting. It didn’t look like it had been cleaned in months.

Tessa threw her hand to her mouth to cover a gag. She hurried farther down the hall for a quick scan of the bedroom. Surprise, surprise. It was messy too. Still, there was no sign of Mr. Sanborn or his soul.

What in the world?

Tessa gripped her phone and considered calling her mother. She had no idea what a reaper should do when their mark wasn’t where he was supposed to be. But she hesitated. The truth was, she was late to Mr. Sanborn’s death. And she wasn’t ready to admit that to Cheryl.

Maybe Sanborn had stumbled out of the apartment. Maybe he’d fallen down the stairs. He could be in the second stairwell—the one Tessa hadn’t used when she went up.

With that idea buoying her spirits, she headed for the door. A few paces from it, she noticed the view of the courtyard through the hallway windows across from Mr. Sanborn’s apartment.

Tessa stopped in her tracks. There, in the middle of the closed pool, which was covered with a tarp that held a couple feet of frigid water, was a body lying face down. She didn’t know why it was such a shock. Or why she was surprised to recognize the salt-and-pepper ring of hair. She’d been looking for a body after all. But what was he doing in the pool?

Her brow wrinkled as her thoughts raced. She thought Mr. Sanborn would be in his apartment. But really, the assignment had only said Mist River Manor, so the pool was still within that description. But why would he be in the pool? And where was his soul?

She forced herself to get moving again. She needed to get downstairs. She needed to find Sanborn’s spirit.

But no sooner had her foot fallen on the thin carpet of the hallway than two men emerged from the stairwell. One wore a police officer’s uniform and the other was Silas. “You said the commotion was coming from up here, sir?” the cop said, his head tilted toward Silas.

“Yeah, I think it was from Chet Sanborn’s apartment.”

Both men stopped in their tracks, finding Tessa in their way.

“Tessa?” Silas questioned. “What were you doing in Mr. Sanborn’s place?”

As though they belonged to someone else and she had no control over them, her eyes slid sideways toward the view of the pool. She dragged them back to the men as fast as she could, but it was too late. They’d both followed her gaze.

Suddenly, the cop was moving fast, coming toward her. “Put your hands up,” he barked.

Chapter 4

“COME ON OUT.” THE OFFICER outside Tessa’s dingy, depressing cell looked bored. He swung open the metal door and waved a hand to hurry her along.

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Tessa darted out of the cell before the man could change his mind.

The burly man wore a shirt a size too big. His name tag read Stewart. Tessa followed him to the lobby of Mist River’s tiny police station. She stopped abruptly when she recognized the back of her mother’s head.

Cheryl was chatting with the officer at the front desk.

Stewart almost ran over her. He deftly stepped to the side, allowing Tessa to collect herself. “Hold on a second. I’ll get your personal belongings out of the locker.”

“Did she post my bail?”

Stewart shook his head. “You’ve been released with no charges. Your boss just let us know you were at the victim’s apartment to do a physical exam for the life insurance company you work for.”

“She did?”

“Maybe next time,” he sneered, “you could mention that when you’re being arrested.”

Or next time she could think better on her feet. Tessa was sure there’d been some instructions in the computer training about how to get in and out of a location without being seen. And she was also positive Cheryl was going to tell her exactly what those instructions were. She sighed. Active learning wasn’t Tessa’s strong suit. She learned by doing. And so far, all she’d learned was what not to do.

Tessa watched Stewart disappear through a door and wondered about what he’d said. He’d called Chet Sanborn a victim. Does that mean he was killed? Murdered?

He’d seemed harmless, if annoying and slightly creepy. Why would someone want to kill him?

Then a thought flitted through her mind. Often, she’d heard a commotion going on above her in Mr. Sanborn’s apartment. And during the wee hours of the morning, she’d sometimes wake up to the sound of loud voices and feet.

Cheryl glanced over her shoulder, noticed Tessa, and frowned momentarily before turning back to her conversation.

Fantastic. As though this morning hadn’t gone badly enough, now she was going to have to deal with her mother’s attitude.

Officer Stewart returned. “You’re free to go. But we may call you in for questioning as the investigation continues.” He handed Tessa her purse. “I heard this is basically your first day. Seems like maybe the job’s not going to work out for you so well, eh?”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “It hasn’t been the smoothest first day in the world. I’ll give you that.”

“A bad case of wrong place, wrong time.” He snorted like it was a hilarious joke. “I guess Mr. Sanborn’s day was worse. Getting strangled and thrown in a pool like that—it’ll ruin your day fast.”

“He was strangled?” Tessa’s mind raced.

“Yep. Somebody wanted him dead real bad. A lot of somebodies, actually, from what I understand.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Chet Sanborn had a lot of enemies?”

The officer glanced at the other cop talking to Cheryl. “Forget I said that, okay? Just stay out of trouble, Miss Randolph. And answer your phone if our department calls.” He spun around and stalked away.

Taking a deep breath, Tessa gathered her courage. Chet Sanborn was the police’s problem now. She had her own, more scary, thing to deal with. Her boss.

Sure enough, when Cheryl turned around, she shot a Level Four glare at Tessa, pressing her lips together tightly. She wore a lovely shade of light brown lipstick, and for a second, Tessa wondered if she’d let her daughter borrow it. But she quickly shrugged off that thought. Tessa had a feeling her mom wasn’t in the sharing mood, unless she counted sharing her frustrations. Cheryl surely had many of those.

Tessa’s mother marched out the door without saying a word. Tessa shuffled reluctantly behind her.

“Mom.” Tessa felt like a kid trying to get her mother’s attention.

“You’re fired,” Cheryl shot back, her arms crossed as she stood next to the Audi. “Just as soon as I can find a replacement, you’re out.”

Panic flooded Tessa’s system. She pictured Silas kicking her out when she didn’t have the rent on Friday. Her next thought was Pepper. The poor cat would be homeless. And she was a horrible mouser. She’d starve to death quickly on the streets. So would Tessa. She didn’t have what it takes to sleep one night outdoors.

Actually, now that she thought on it, Pepper would probably just target some unsuspecting passerby with her sweet, furry feline sad-eyed expression. She’d find herself a new home by the end of the first day. Tessa wasn’t likely to be so lucky.

She imagined herself pleading with Frank to get her waitressing job back. The panic the thought induced came through in her tone. “Please don’t do this! Mom, I’m sorry I was late this morning. It was my stupid car. The clock in it is wrong. Then it wouldn’t start.”

Tessa held up a hand when Cheryl opened her mouth. “I know, I know. I was supposed to forward the assignments to my email, and I didn’t. But I will. I will now. I’ll do whatever I have to do. This will never, ever happen again.”

With that, her speech stumbled to a halt. She tried to channel the look Pepper gave her when the cat wanted some canned food. It was pretty irresistible, at least when it came to getting some salmon pate.

Cheryl’s jaw cocked as she studied her daughter.

The silence stretched out.

Tessa shifted her weight under the uncomfortable gaze. One of them was going to have to give. It couldn’t be her.

She had a flashback to the time she’d snuck out to go joy riding with her girlfriends and found her mom up waiting for her when she got home. Cheryl had given Tessa the exact same silent glare while considering what punishment to dole out.

Tessa winced at the memory. Not only had she been grounded, but she’d also had her newly earned driving privileges revoked for a full sixty days. It had really set her back socially. In fact, it was probably why she hadn’t been crowned homecoming queen.

Okay, that last bit wasn’t quite true. Tessa was never part of the in-crowd. And she couldn’t blame her mother’s harsh punishment for the lack of votes. But being grounded for sure cost her the debate team presidency. She’d had to miss a bunch of meets. Then Christy Morgan had gotten all cozy with Brett Smith, Tessa’s big crush. The two of them had joined forces, won the state debate championship, earned college scholarships, and eventually gotten married. Last Tessa heard, they were both lawyers in LA, living the high life.

Suffice to say, just the thought of a punishment as severe as that being doled sent Tessa spiraling down a dark path.

But what was the new job’s equivalent to being grounded for a month? Anything was better than being fired.

“Mom, please,” she finally squeaked.

“Fine,” Cheryl snapped. “I’ll give you one more chance. But just one.” She opened the car door. “I suppose you need a ride.”

With a sigh of relief, Tessa darted around the car and hopped into the passenger seat before Cheryl could change her mind. When her mother climbed in, Tessa said, “Thank you. I won’t be late again. I promise.”

“I certainly hope not.” Cheryl didn’t sound convinced and Tessa tried not to take offense at the sub-par confidence level. “We’ll talk about what’s next for Chet Sanborn first thing in the morning.” Cheryl glanced over her shoulder to back out of the parking spot. “And I mean first thing. Don’t you dare be late. You know, I think you may need a new car.”

Tessa knew that was true. “I won’t be late,” she promised.

But something wasn’t sitting right. Every time Tessa thought about her apartment, a sinking feeling whooshed down to the pit of her stomach.

“Um, Mom? I have a favor to ask you.”

“I thought I just did you a favor.”

Tessa winced. She didn’t want to say the next words but couldn’t think of an alternative. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Cheryl glanced over, but Tessa couldn’t read her expression through the dark glasses she’d donned. “Why?”

“I can’t stay at my place,” Tessa whined. “There’s a killer on the loose.”

Her mother’s cackle surprised Tessa. It made her jump toward the window. “We have bigger problems than a killer on the loose, Theresa Randolph.” Her mom slapped her palm against the steering wheel. “We’ve got a soul on the loose. And your apartment complex is as good a place as any to start looking for it.”

Chapter 5

LUCKILY, TESSA WASN’T the only one creeped out about the murder at the apartment complex. Shortly after her return, there was a knock at the door. The familiar “Shave and a Haircut” of her neighbor.

“I come bearing a gift,” Abi said through the door.

Tessa opened it wide to see her friend standing on the front mat with two pints of ice cream—one in each hand. She was already in her PJs—plaid pants a size too big with the drawstring cinched at the waist and an oversize Foo Fighters T-shirt from a concert they’d both attended a few years before. Abi’s red hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her glasses obscured her green eyes.

“Chunky Monkey or Half Baked?” She held them both for Tessa to see.

“Am I terrible for wanting both?”

Abi shook her head. “I’m game as long as you have clean bowls.”

Tessa smiled. “I guess Half Baked will have to do.”

They folded onto either side of the couch, and Tessa turned on Netflix to the last episode of the Gilmore Girls they’d watched together. It was a lot easier than picking out something new. And the TV would just be drowned out by conversation anyway.

“I’m guessing you heard.” Tessa allowed a bite of ice cream to melt in her mouth.

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to off him. That man was a creeper. I just can’t believe you were dumb enough to get arrested.”

“You know I didn’t do it.”

“But if you did, I could help you. Do you know how many true crime docs I’ve watched?”

“We share a Netflix account, so yes. I do. Who told you I was arrested?”

“Mrs. Cross. She told anyone who went by her doorway. She just crouched there or something, waiting to spring out. Not the best thing to do to people when there’s a killer on the loose.”

“Ah, but she didn’t think the killer was still on the loose.”

“Oh, she knows you didn’t kill him,” Abi scoffed. “She just needed people to talk to today. I mean, I can’t blame her. Death is so creepy. One minute you’re here, checking out every woman with a pulse and the next . . .”

“Yeah, it is weird.” Tessa sighed. She couldn’t really talk about her new job anyway, but Abi’s stance on the matter made it even more difficult. How was she going to keep being a reaper a secret from her best friend? Her only friend aside from Pepper—and she wasn’t sure the cat counted.

“Did Mrs. Cross have any idea who really did it?” Tessa asked. After a hurried search of the building, she’d resigned herself to the fact that Chet Sanborn’s spirit was nowhere to be found. She kind of hoped he was off haunting whoever did this to him rather than using his powers as a Peeping Tom. The thought made her shudder.

“Of course not.” Abi dipped a spoon into the Chunky Monkey. “But we know they didn’t live here.”

“Yeah? How do we know that?”

“Because everyone here has reverence for the pool. It’s the one amenity we all agree on.”

Tessa nodded, conceding Abi’s point. She wondered who would kill Sanborn in such an open space and why. But she was thankful it wasn’t her job to find out.

***

CHERYL MADE IT CLEAR she was irritated about having to stop by Mist River Manor the next morning. Tessa got back in the Audi, greeted by the long-suffering expression on her mother’s face. “Are you ready to work now?”

With a bright smile, Tessa said, “Yep! I’m completely ready to grim reaper my way through Wednesday. I didn’t see any assignments in my email yet, though.”

Cheryl glanced in the rearview mirror and narrowed her eyes. “Your assignments are on hold until we find your last mark’s spirit. Honestly, why do people have to tailgate?” She tapped the brakes. “I’m here. And this is a forty-five mile-per-hour zone. Jerk.”

“Okay.” Tessa brushed aside her mother’s bad driving. “So, I have to find Mr. Sanborn’s spirit. That shouldn’t take long. Should it?”

“It had better not take more than a few days.” Cheryl’s tone was sharp. “Otherwise, the repercussions will be severe.”

“Rep . . . repercussions? You mean, like, I’ll get fired?”

Cheryl chuckled, but it wasn’t a cheerful sound. “Not having a job will be the least of your worries if you don’t fix this. The business of escorting souls across the veil is serious. Losing someone’s spirit so it’s free to wander loose on this plane instead of crossing over—well, it’s the worst thing a reaper can let happen. It may cause a chasm to open between our world and the nether.” Her tone was ominous, like the announcer on a wildlife show talking about the imminent extinction of a species.

“Chasm?” Tessa asked. “You mean, like demons coming through to feast on humans? Or like the undead? Zombies?”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. She pulled into the agency’s parking lot. She shut off the car and turned toward Tessa. “How would you like it if you were home from the grocery store and, suddenly, you took a step that landed you in a different place? And not just from the store to your house or the beach. Not this plane at all but the next one. Just like that—your spirit ripped through to the other side before its time. And then think about that happening to thousands of people on our side, while thousands more who have already crossed suddenly find themselves on the side of the living. Of course, they don’t have bodies anymore, so they’re all riled up and ready to find a human form to inhabit.”

“I said zombies.” For the first time, Tessa noticed her mother’s coloring wasn’t normal. She was pale. The usually unflappable woman was afraid—actually afraid. A chill ran down Tessa’s spine. She shuddered. “Okay. That does sound . . . bad.”

Cheryl set her jaw. “As reapers, we are the first line of defense against the chaos that would ensue if the living and the dead could co-mingle. Losing Chet Sanborn’s spirit could trigger a dark time like this world has never known.”

She got out of the car and slammed the door, leaving her words to reverberate through the enclosed space like a threatening echo.

Tessa contemplated what it all meant. Had she been aware of the consequences—of what this job really entailed—she probably would’ve stuck to waitressing. Serving a hamburger never triggered an apocalypse. But she’d already gotten herself mixed up with it. There was no turning back now.

She got out of the car and trudged after her mother. When she finally got inside, Cheryl was talking to someone in the lobby. It was the lovely, ebony-skinned woman Tessa had seen in the agency’s parking lot the day before. The one who’d heard Tessa swear when she damaged her nails on Linda’s door handle. This woman was the epitome of grace, with a straight spine, long neck, and gentle movements. She glanced Tessa’s direction, revealing makeup that looked like it had been applied by a professional—subtle yet stunning. It enhanced the almond shape of her eyes and full lips.

Feeling awkward, Tessa started toward the closet-sized space she’d been assigned. But her mother’s sharp voice stopped her. “Tessa. I think you should go on Gloria’s next assignment with her. You won’t be given another one until the Sanborn situation is resolved, which I have a conference call about this morning with the higher-ups. I don’t need you sitting around doing nothing. You may as well learn something.”

Gloria winked an eyelid expertly coated in sparkly mauve shadow. “Yeah, girl. Come with me. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Gloria’s car started without issue, causing Tessa to feel a jolt of jealously. It would really be nice to have a car that started every time you turned the key in the ignition.

Tessa pushed uncharitable thoughts about Linda away, irrationally afraid that the car would hear her and act even more stubborn.

She wanted to chitchat with Gloria—ask her where she bought her makeup. But they weren’t really on good footing just yet. So, she settled on talking about work. “Who’s the mark?”

“His name’s James Parsons. Car accident.” Gloria shook her head. “He’s been a heavy drinker for years and had a lot of near misses. That ends this morning. He’s been drinking all night. Should’ve just slept in the truck for a while instead of trying to get home.”

“That’s not good.”

“At least he isn’t taking anyone with him.” She glanced at Tessa, who kept her eyes on the scenery outside. “Word is you had a rotten first day.”

“It could have been better, that’s for sure. I lost a soul.”

Gloria pulled the car onto a wide spot on the shoulder. She got out and leaned against the hood. Tessa followed her, looking around. “This is where it’s going to happen?”

The lovely reaper nodded. “Yep. James isn’t going to be able to make that turn.” She gestured toward the hairpin curve in the road they faced before glancing at her watch. “We’re about five minutes early. Perfect timing.” She shot an apologetic look at Tessa. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

“I get it,” Tessa replied. “I need to watch the time better. Don’t worry. I’m not going to be late for an assignment ever again. Not only would it be risking my job, which I have no business doing right now—because I’d rapidly become homeless—but apparently it also risks causing a tear in the universe or something crazy like that.”

“Is that what Cheryl said? Spirit apocalypse?”

“Basically, yeah.”

Gloria snorted. “I know she’s your mom and all, but I gotta tell ya—she can be a little . . . much.”

The rumbling of tires drew both of their attention to the road.

In the next instant, a rusty blue pickup truck appeared, careening through the curve without taking it. James Parsons never hit the brakes. The truck soared off the road and smashed into a huge oak tree in a cacophony of tearing metal that made both reapers cover their ears.

It was immediately apparent that there was no way the driver could have lived. The front of the truck was crumpled like an accordion, pushing the bumper almost into the bed.

Gloria crossed the road and stood a foot in front of the truck, hands on her hips, watching as James’ spirit rose through the broken roof of the truck. The sound of the vehicle’s fluids dripping onto the ground mixed with the spirit’s wails.

“Come on, now, James. You had to know you were flirting with death, driving around like that for all these years.” Gloria made a clucking sound and shook her head. “Don’t act shocked.”

The spirit tried to focus on the reaper, but his half-transparent form seemed unsteady. “Who said that?” he slurred.

“I did.” Gloria snapped her fingers a few times. “Right here. I’m your guide to the other side. So let’s go.”

“Other . . . what?”

“Let’s go,” Gloria repeated. “I haven’t got all day. You’re due in the spirit world.”

James shook his head, and his spirit toppled that direction, upending over and over like a crazy, out of control top. Tessa crossed the road to stand next to Gloria. “His spirit is acting as drunk as his live body was. How is that possible?”

“Oh, people’s spirits sometimes don’t adjust to being dead for a few minutes or more,” Gloria explained. Then she shouted toward the opaque figure, “James! You’re dead! Let’s get a move on!” She lifted a hand and waved it toward the dead man and suddenly, he stopped tumbling. He drifted toward the reapers as though held in a force field. “Sometimes you gotta take control or they’ll run.”

“And I guess they don’t all wait around for their reaper if you aren’t exactly on time,” Tessa grumbled.

“Some do. Some don’t,” Gloria conceded. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s probably not quite as dire as your mom’s making it out to be. She’s a corporate yes-man. She’s always toeing the line. And I’m not saying it’s ever happened to me, but sometimes a soul just isn’t quite ready to leave.”

“I’m not ready!” James cried, sounding less slurred than he had initially.

“Too bad,” Gloria snapped before turning back to Tessa. “Maybe your guy has a reason for sticking around. Like he wants to see his loved ones one last time at his funeral. Or . . . hey, wasn’t it a murder? I know—he probably wants to see his killer caught. Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

Gloria used her reaper power to pull James to within a few inches of her body and, as Tessa watched, they both shimmered, growing less tangible by the second, until they winked out of sight.

Tessa crossed the road and got in Gloria’s car to wait for her return, wondering whether the other reaper was right about Sanborn. Was he trying to evade crossing to the other side on purpose? All so he could see his killer behind bars. It made sense, the more she thought about it. Tessa could imagine feeling the same way in his shoes.

And Gloria had made her feel a bit better about the whole situation—unlike Cheryl. Maybe Tessa had time to find Sanborn and help him cross the veil before something crazy happened.

But how?

All of a sudden, she knew the answer. If it was true that Sanborn was staying to ensure his killer was caught, then if Tessa found the murderer, she’d find Chet Sanborn.

Chapter 6

“YOU KNOW, YOU ARE WAY too fickle,” Tessa lectured Linda. “I mean, seriously. Today, you star like it’s nothing and yesterday—when I really needed you, I might add, you let me down. Listen up, old girl. You’re really going to have to shape up if you expect me to keep dumping my hard-earned money into you.”

Tessa pulled into the Mist River Manor parking lot, brought the car to a stop in the reserved spot for apartment 114, and shut off the engine.

In a gentler tone, she said, “You know I love you, right? That’s the only reason I haven’t traded you in for a newer model.”

They both knew that wasn’t true. There was no way Tessa could afford a new car. But she figured it was good to keep some fear of the junkyard in Linda’s mind.

Grabbing the bank envelope off the passenger seat, she hopped out of the car. Cheryl had agreed to pay Tessa for the first job, the one at the golf course. Now she could pay her rent. Of course, she’d had to endure her mother’s smug attitude as Cheryl wrote the check. But Tessa had decades of practice dealing with that.

Silas was in the lobby, tool bag open at his feet, replacing a chipped tile near the reception desk. A man of many talents.

He glanced up when Tessa’s shadow fell over his work. “Oh, hey.”

“I have that rent for you.” She held out the envelope.

Silas looked surprised. He got to his feet, dusted off his jeans, and accepted the envelope. “Thanks.”

Tessa turned to leave, already thinking about having a nice salami sandwich before heading back to work. She shuddered at the thought that reaping souls already felt like a typical job.

“Oh, by the way,” Silas called after her. “ A couple of guys came through here asking about you earlier. I told them I thought you were out at your new job.”

Guys? What guys? Tessa wondered who would be looking for her. Could they be from the reaper agency, perhaps someone higher up than Cheryl, wanting to talk to her about the Sanborn debacle? But why? Her mother seemed to have the Tessa-lecturing firmly in hand, and Gloria had all but skirted the matter under the rug.

Tessa wracked her brain, trying to remember if she owed anyone else money but came up blank.

Then she realized who they must be.

Officer Stewart had said the police department may want to question her again. That had to be it. She trudged toward the door leading to her hallway, feeling low on energy.

As she drew near the end of the short hall before it spilled out to the longer corridor her apartment was on, Tessa heard banging. Someone was knocking hard on a door. Then, a male voice said, “Does Theresa Randolph live here?”

They banged again.

Tessa stopped short. A war was going on inside her. Part of her wanted to correct the guy . . . her name was Tessa—whatever her birth certificate said. But the rest of her wanted to stay out of sight.

However, if it was the police officers wanting to talk to her, she knew it was probably a better idea to present herself. She didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the Mystic River Police Department.

But she really didn’t have time. She didn’t want to be questioned for hours on a subject she couldn’t reveal to the police. She needed to find Chet Sanborn’s spirit.

Slowly and carefully, Tessa peeked one eye around the corner. Two men stood towering over her neighbor, Mrs. Cross, who craned her neck upward and scowled at them.

“Wrong apartment,” she barked. “That girl lives next door.” The elderly woman jerked a thumb toward Tessa’s apartment before slamming the door in the men’s faces.

Tessa frowned. She didn’t recognize either of them. They weren’t uniformed officers, and they didn’t give off the vibe of plain clothes detectives either. One looked around thirty-five and was really tall—Tessa guessed around six foot two—with reddish brown hair in a man bun, khaki linen capris, and black Birkenstocks. Definitely not a regular police-issue uniform. But why would they send undercover cops to question her about Sanborn’s death?

Tessa knew the answer to that one. They wouldn’t.

The other guy stood only to the first guy’s shoulder. He wore black denim jeans and a black shirt with a red skull on the front. A black leather wrist cuff and boots completed the biker look. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties and had a scarred face that roughly imitated a vertical rectangle.

The first guy threw up his hands. “She’s not here.”

“Or she’s not answering.” The second guy’s voice was as rough as he looked. He snickered. “We could always break in. Or are you too much of a sissy for that, Maddox?”

“I’m not a sissy, Horner.”

Tessa had to bite back a giggle at the name.

“I just don’t want to go to jail today,” Maddox said. “So, let’s go, okay?”

Tessa darted back into the lobby before the men could spot her. She had no idea who they were, but if they were considering breaking into her apartment to find her, she knew they weren’t good. And she didn’t want to run into them face-to-face.

She dove into the only obvious hiding spot in the room—behind the reception desk. From his spot on the floor near the tool bag, Silas gave her a puzzled look. She used her hand to make a cutting motion across her throat and then jabbed a thumb behind her, where the two men were just emerging from the hall.

Silas’s face registered understanding. He jerked his gaze to the task at hand, away from Tessa.

Maddox and Horner left without saying anything to the landlord, and Tessa popped up, peering out the front window to see which vehicle they got into.

“What’s going on?” Silas moved the tools behind the counter.

“Were those the guys you were talking about?”

“Yeah, why?”

“They were just banging on my door. I don’t know them.”

“And?”

“And they seemed to be a bit . . . questionable.” She made for the glass door of the lobby. “I think I’m going to follow them.”

Tessa wasn’t sure when she’d made that decision, but it seemed like a solid one. She had a hunch that those guys had something to do with Mr. Sanborn’s death. Of course, she had no proof. But how else was she going to find Mr. Sanborn’s spirit? The pair of goons was her only lead.

“Do you think that’s safe?” Silas asked. “How questionable are we talking?”

“They thought about breaking in.”

“That sounds highly questionable.”

“I’ll be careful.” Tessa jogged across the parking lot as the white Toyota Camry carrying Maddox and Horner pulled away.

She jumped into Linda and twisted the key in the ignition. The car sputtered and died, refusing to make any effort at all when Tessa tried again.

Tessa growled in frustration. “You know what? That’s it. I’m getting a new car! You’re going to the junkyard, missy!”

Silas, who’d followed her out, stood several feet away watching. “I think that’s for the best.”

“Can you drive me?”

“Are you serious?” Silas looked shocked. “Following those guys seems like a terrible idea.”

“It might. But I think waiting around for them to find me again is a worse idea, don’t you?”

He ran a hand through his hair, making it flop over one eye, so he had to push at it again. “I guess you’re right. Come on.” He crossed the lot to a shiny blue Silverado and climbed in.

Tessa ran to get in the passenger side. “Hurry! We’re going to lose them.”

“Hold your horses. We won’t lose them.” He maneuvered the truck onto the street and stepped on the gas, roaring through a stop sign at the next intersection.

Tessa scanned the area looking for the Camry and biting her lower lip. Silas’s truck wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. Hopefully, it wouldn’t draw the goons’ attention.

“There!” She pointed to the right, where she could just see the back corner of the Camry as it turned onto another street.

Silas gunned the engine, following the Camry at speed but had to ease back when they caught up too fast.

“Looks like they’re heading out of town.”

“Stay with them,” Tessa pleaded. “I want to see where they go.”

“You got it.” He smirked a little, almost like he was having fun. “But I still think this is a terrible idea. If those guys are up to no good, shouldn’t we call the police or something?”

Tessa imagined Officer Stewart’s eye roll if she called and told him some guys were knocking on her door. “I don’t have any evidence other than what I just overheard. I don’t think the cops would be able to do anything with that.”

Silas nodded.

“We’ll just see where they go and maybe get a little more information.”

“They’re going to the casino.”

Silas pulled into the parking lot and then found a spot at the edge of the lot. They watched Maddox and Horner get out of the Camry, which had pulled into the valet lane. Horner tossed the keys to the young attendant, who caught them awkwardly. They didn’t ask for a ticket. The two headed inside.

“Thanks for the lift.” Tessa hopped out of the truck and started to hurry across the lot.

“Hey!” Silas had rolled down the passenger window and leaned over to call out to her. “Are you sure you want to go in there? If those guys really were looking for you, you’ve essentially done their job for them.”

“I’m just going to see if I can figure out who they are.” But she knew Silas was right. “I’ll stay out of their way,” she said. “And I’ll get a cab back to the apartment when I’m done.” She waved and smiled cheerfully to encourage Silas along.

He frowned, uneasy to let her go. Reluctantly, he put the window up and eased out of the parking spot.

Inside, it only took Tessa a few seconds to remember why she hated casinos. They were smoky, crowded, noisy, and smelled like desperation.

She scanned the area looking for Maddox and Horner before easing into the main room. Slot machines jangled and clanged. Waitresses circulated the floor, carrying drink trays to the gamblers, most of whom, she realized, had the look of Mr. Sanborn. Chubby, bald, or both—with hairy triceps. They stared at the machines without paying attention to much else.

Tessa began to snake through the tangled path of slot machines, clearly set up to dissuade people from finding their way out. As she went, she kept an eye out for the goons. She didn’t catch a glimpse of either man, but she did see a guy she knew a little from her waitressing job at Frank’s restaurant. He was playing blackjack in a side room. She darted past the doorway so he wouldn’t see her.

The guy was someone she’d always groaned to see coming into the restaurant. Another Chet Sanborn type. He had a horrible, ill-fitting toupee of thick black hair that swooped over his forehead. She’d watched it fall into his face a time or two when he’d slumped over the bar. He was missing a front tooth. But he put out airs like a suave gentleman, donning a fake Italian accent and making unwanted advances on all the waitresses.

What’s his name again? Ricardo Vidale.

Tessa kept wandering through the crowd, and slowly it occurred to her that a lot of people were wearing tank tops like the ones Mr. Sanford always wore when he was alive. Purple, aqua, white, and orange ones that all said MRC on them. Mist River Casino.

It was all starting to make sense. Too much sense. Sanborn must’ve frequented the casino.

“Miss Randolph?”

The barked words made Tessa jump. She whirled around. It was Maddox and Horner.

“Um. Yes?”

How had they spotted her? Her eyes floated up to a security camera mounted near the ceiling. Ugh!

“Come with us, ma’am,” Horner said. “Our boss would very much like to have a word.”

The goon’s thick hand closed around her elbow, giving Tessa no choice but to go with him. She saw Ricardo glance her direction as they passed the blackjack table. Recognition flitted across his features.

They headed for a door at the back of the small room.

For half a second, Tessa wished she was back at the restaurant dealing with misogynistic Ricardo. It had to be better than being escorted by two guys into the dark recesses of a casino where, as she understood it, she was about to be interrogated.

Chapter 7

TESSA WAS GLAD TO ENCOUNTER a few other people in the hallways. She’d hate to find herself alone with the odd couple who bounced insults at each other over her head like some weird monkey in the middle game.

Maddox, with his man bun coming loose and bobbing side to side, was in front. His height meant long strides Tessa had to hurry to keep up with.

“I’m just saying,” he shot over his shoulder. “You’re going to die of a heart attack one of these days. Plus, eating meat is gross. I’ve been vegan for ten years, and I’m loving it.”

Behind Tessa, Horner snorted. “That explains a lot, kid. Nobody gets strong on bean sprouts and coconut milk. I imagine there’s some avocado toast in your future.” His rumbling chuckle was full of derision.

“At least my cholesterol is normal. And I don’t have high blood pressure. You look a little red in the cheeks, there, buddy—like maybe walking down this hallway is too much work for you.”

Maddox turned down another hallway and rested his hand on a doorknob, pausing to raise an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. You can take a rest while we talk to Chino.” His gaze cut to Tessa, and his features hardened. “Our boss wants to talk to you. Be sure you keep a respectful tone, or—"

“Or what?” Tessa said, emboldened.

“Or you’re bound to dislike what happens,” Horner warned.

Tessa glared at him. She held her tongue and followed Maddox through the doorway into an office three times as big as her apartment’s living room.

“Wow.” She stopped short and looked around. The room resembled a chic penthouse room in a fancy hotel. One wall was consumed by a huge fireplace surrounded by pale brick and set off with a mahogany mantlepiece holding a single ornate gold and black clock that looked like an antique.

Queen Anne furniture in cream, sage, and purple was prominent in the room, along with classy violet and beige carpeting that lent the space a femininity Tessa hadn’t expected. The smokey air of the rest of the casino was gone. So were the sounds of slot machines, replaced by the whir of the room’s ventilation system.

A middle-aged woman sat behind a desk made of some type of pale wood—maybe maple or oak—intricately carved on the edges. The word that came to mind when Tessa saw it was delicate.

The woman wore a pale pink suit coat over a ruffled white shirt. Auburn hair was piled high on her head, and her eyebrows had been plucked and shaped just a touch too much, leaving her looking more surprised than she probably was. The heavy-handed use of dark brow liner did nothing to relieve the odd expression.

The woman tipped her head. “You found her? That’s not what you said on the phone.”

“She showed up here, Ms. Chino.” Horner ducked his head and folded callused hands in an obvious show of respect. “We saw her on the surveillance cameras and brought her back for you.”

Ms. Chino’s eyes flicked to Tessa. “I’m surprised you came here. I’d thought you’d have left the county by now.”

Tessa chuckled. Maybe she’d been wrong about Ms. Chino’s eyebrows. Maybe the woman was truly surprised to see her. Then her face hardened—the best it could with the bad brow job—and Tessa knew she’d made a mistake.

“Why would I leave the county? By the way, I’m Tessa Randolph.” She strode forward, holding out a hand. “And you are . . .?”

Without taking Tessa’s hand, the woman stood, revealing that she wore a pencil skirt that matched the suit coat and shiny beige pumps. “Melinda Chino. I manage the Mist River Casino and Hotel. And from this point on, I’ll be asking the questions.”

Tessa bristled. Who did this woman think she was? Not a cop. Definitely not her mother. Her tone reminded Tessa of her fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Gatlin.

But Tessa wasn’t a child anymore. She opened her mouth to put Melinda Chino in her place but caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Maddox was shaking his head, clearly counseling her from a distance to keep her mouth shut.

Tessa stabbed a finger toward the two men. “Why were your thugs at my apartment, banging on my door and bothering my sweet old neighbor?”

Restraint was never her strong suit.

The corners of Melinda’s mouth twitched downward, and Tessa got the distinct feeling she wasn’t used to being challenged. The casino boss rounded the desk and leaned on its edge, crossing her ankles. She studied Tessa’s face for a moment and came to a decision.

“Sanborn owed this casino money,” she said.

“You can owe a casino money?”

Melinda raised one too-thin eyebrow. “If you spend enough money in this establishment, you may qualify for a line of credit. And he spent a lot of money here.”

Horner snorted. “He spent a lot of money gambling anywhere he could. Not just the legal stuff either. He’s known in all the illegal circles around town.”

Melinda glared at Horner, who didn’t seem to catch her point at first.

“What? I heard he knew nothing about sports. And yet . . .”

Horner finally caught on to what Melinda’s hard look meant and stammered to a halt.

Melinda shifted her gaze back to Tessa. “Unfortunately, Mr. Sanborn abused his privileges with us. Ultimately, we had to cut him off. And he was delinquent in his payments.” She narrowed her eyes. “Something I understand you’re familiar with. Yes, we did our research on you as well.”

“How much did he owe?” Tessa found herself asking.

“Something to the tune of forty thousand dollars.”

Tessa let out a low whistle. She couldn’t imagine gambling away that much money.

Melinda nodded toward the men. “My associates went to Sanborn’s apartment to pick up a payment. He’d promised us half the money. Swore that he had it on him. Then they saw you exit the apartment and get arrested. “Now, where’s the money?”

Briefly, Tessa wondered where in the world Maddox and Horner had been hiding to see all that go down.

She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about any money.” That part was true, but how was she going to get out of this confrontation? “I work for Mr. Sanborn’s life insurance company,” she said, thinking of the lie Cheryl told the police. “I was there to go over some paperwork on a new rider we’re offering. He was already dead when I got there. I swear.”

“And who’s the beneficiary on this policy?” Melinda leaned forward.

Tessa shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t have access to that part of his account. I’m kinda new.”

The casino manager didn’t look like she believed Tessa. She pursed her lips, thinking. Finally, Melinda pushed away from the desk and rounded it to sit down again. She shuffled papers. “So, why are you here today? Did you come to play the slots? Blackjack? I’m not sure poker would suit you.”

“No.” Tessa shook her head. “I saw your guys pounding on my apartment door and followed them here. I don’t gamble.”

She didn’t add that the main reason she didn’t frequent the casino was she didn’t have the money for it. The idea of playing a hand of poker and winning enough to pay her rent for six months was actually pretty appealing, no matter what Melinda thought of her abilities. “Now that we’ve had a chance to talk,” she said, drawing up her courage. “And you know I don’t have any information about the money Mr. Sanborn owed you, I look forward to never seeing your men at my door again.”

Melinda didn’t even look up. “I won’t guarantee that.”

Maddox moved forward and took Tessa by the elbow, giving it a pull. She yanked it out of his grasp and glared at him. He jerked his chin toward the door, making it clear the boss was finished with her and it was time to go.

Keeping her spine as straight as possible and holding her head high, Tessa left the office. She was seething inside. Melinda’s holier than thou attitude had gotten to her. Just because she had like a bazillion dollars didn’t mean she could treat Tessa like trash.

The two men marched Tessa back to the main floor and left her there without a word. She glowered at their retreating backs before heading toward the door.

Once again, she tried holding her breath to avoid the smoke, but it didn’t work for long. She lamented her inability to go more than ten seconds without taking a breath. She really should have focused more on singing or swimming or something. You never knew when you may need to refrain from breathing for a minute or two.

As Tessa passed the blackjack table, she glanced over again, hoping the annoying guy from the restaurant, Ricardo, would be gone.

But he was still there. And now he had a visitor. Hovering just over the creepy guy’s shoulder as he slammed a card on the table and shouted, “Twenty-one,” was the ghost of Chet Sanborn.

Tessa stopped in her tracks, staring at the spirit. He looked much the same as the last time she’d seen him—dressed in gray polyester shorts and an ill-fitting green tank top. She could even see the ratty flip-flops on his feet. They appeared to defy gravity to stay on his feet as he hovered in the air, partly transparent.

After hesitating for a second, Tessa decided the best way to handle the situation would be to take the bull by the horns and confront the spirit head-on. As she strode toward him, wishing she’d learned how to do that force-hold thing Gloria had done on her mark, Sanborn saw her. He shook his head and then darted away.

Tessa jogged around the blackjack table, drawing the attention of the dealer, who said, “Hey, what’s your hurry?”

She ignored him and kept going, but only for a few steps. Then, Sanborn disappeared through the wall. There was no way she could follow him through. Or, if there was, she didn’t know how.

Biting back a curse, she smashed a fist into the other palm.

She must be the worst grim reaper in the world. That was twice she’d let a soul get away from her. She wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Chapter 8

SHE THOUGHT ABOUT CALLING a cab, but Tessa decided a walk would do her some good. She could use the head-clearing time and exercise. And maybe she’d run into Sanborn’s spirit again. She was determined to nab him.

The casino was on reservation land just outside the downtown area of Mist River. Tessa hurried along the shoulder of the busy interstate leading to the city a few miles away. She felt glad when she made it the half-mile into town, where the roads were far less busy and there were sidewalks.

She turned onto Whimsy Street, craving coffee or perhaps the jolt of caffeine and sugar in her favorite drink.

It was a typical small town downtown street, with a row of colorful buildings, each different, lining both sides of the block. She made a beeline for the pink one with purple shutters—Mocha and Mingle. Tessa ordered a Cuban-style cappuccino and enjoyed the scent of strong coffee with hints of chocolate and caramel while she waited to be served.

She spent a pleasant hour window shopping and sipping from her small cup before arriving back at her apartment building. With a bucket of sudsy water and a squeegee with a long handle, Silas was scrubbing windows in the lobby. He glanced at her. “Oh, good. You made it back. You know I would’ve picked you up if you’d called.”

She nodded. She knew. But she also knew she didn’t want to owe Silas many favors. She’d already paid him the rent. But with the way things were going with Chet Sanborn’s spirit, there was no guarantee of next month.

“Did you find out what those guys were up to?” Silas asked.

Tessa took a sip of coffee to buy time. She wasn’t sure how much to tell him. But she didn’t really feel like lying either. “They thought I knew something about Mr. Sanborn’s death. I let them know I didn’t.” She hoped he’d accept that and move on. She didn’t want to tell him about Melinda or Sanborn owing the casino money.

Silas turned back toward the window.

“It’s sad—Chet dying. I mean, he and I weren’t friends or anything. But he paid his rent on time and didn’t cause any trouble around here.” He glanced over his shoulder and gave Tessa a meaningful look. “Those are nice qualities.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t cause any trouble. And I do pay my rent on time. Mostly. At least I don’t have loud visitors over in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. You’re not even on my short list of the most annoying tenants ever.”

Her ears perked up at that and she moved closer to him to speak quietly. “Who is on that list?”

He clucked his tongue. “Nope. Not gonna tell you that.” He held the squeegee over the bucket and wrung it out with a metal handle. “But I will tell you that I’m not looking forward to finding a new renter for Chet’s apartment.”

“Why’s that?”

“Checking people’s references. Interviewing them. Trying to figure out who’s a good risk and who isn’t—let’s just say that’s not my favorite part of this job.”

“Sounds pretty easy to me.” A wince spasmed her face—she probably shouldn’t have said that.

“I guess it is easier than waitressing—or whatever it is you do now. And I have a week or so before I have to really think about it. Chet’s son is up there now, cleaning his dad’s stuff out.”

Tessa’s eyes widened. “Already? I’m surprised the cops are letting anyone in there yet.”

“Yeah, the forensics team left a couple hours ago and released the apartment. Mark—that’s his son’s name—was already here waiting. Seemed pretty eager to get into his dad’s place. “I wonder if he has siblings he wants to beat to the punch. Although, I’ve been in that apartment. I’m not sure his dad has anything of value. Probably just sentimental stuff.” Silas stretched onto his tiptoes to get the top of the window.

Tessa was momentarily distracted by the movements of Silas’s arm and back muscles. She had to pull her gaze away. There was enough going on in her life at the moment without giving in to a crush.

“Thanks again for driving me to the casino. I’ll see you later.”

Tessa hurried away, deciding distance was the best solution for her less than pure thoughts.

But instead of heading to her own apartment, she climbed the steps to the second floor and made her way to Sanborn’s door, thinking maybe his spirit had wanted to see his son one more time before moving on. If so, Tessa could let him say his goodbyes and then help him across the veil. And if helping didn’t work, she’d force him over.

That’d be nice—to be finished listening to Cheryl’s lectures. At least on this particular subject.

Sanborn’s door was cracked, so Tessa peeked inside. There was a young man on his hands and knees in the living room. He pawed through the drawers of a coffee table. After finding a bunch of papers, he tossed them aside, adding to a mess already piled on the floor. If Tessa didn’t know any better, she’d have thought Maddox and Horner had gotten there first.

Tessa’s eyes narrowed. Mark Sanborn didn’t appear to be cleaning out his dad’s apartment. If anything, it was the opposite. If she had to make a determination of what he was doing based on his current body language, she’d say that he was searching for something.

She cleared her throat to get his attention before pushing the door open wide and peeking in.

“Hi, there,” she said in her most chipper tone. “I’m Tessa Randolph. I work for Mr. Sanborn’s life insurance company. You must be his son.”

Mark glanced over his shoulder, looked her up and down, and then returned to the job at hand, pulling out piles of paper and tossing them aside.

Tessa got enough of a look to see the resemblance to Chet Sanborn. He still had all of his hair, though, and he didn’t wear a horrible tank top but a plain gray T-shirt and jeans.

“I’m surprised the old man had any life insurance,” he mumbled. “Let me guess—I’m not the beneficiary.”

“I don’t know. I’m not actually on that part of the case. But you do have my condolences for the loss of your father. Were the two of you close?”

Mark snorted and sat back on his heels. “If by close, you mean not at all interested in each other, then yeah, we were close.” He got up and moved to the entertainment center that held a small flat screen on a stand. He opened one of its cupboards and rifled through it.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that. So, when was the last time the two of you talked?”

“We talked all the time,” Mark spat. “He’d call, say he needed money, and I’d tell him to get lost. Rinse and repeat. Every week, like clockwork. Sometimes, he’d ask about his grandkids, but usually by that point in the conversation, I was pretty much done. Done talking. Done with him.”

Mark closed that cupboard and moved to the one on the opposite side of the piece of furniture.

“So, your dad had some hard times, then?”

Tessa couldn’t figure out what Mark was looking for. He hadn’t put anything in a pile or otherwise held onto it as though it was something he planned to keep. He just kept moving from place to place in the living room.

“He didn’t have hard times. He made hard times. Dad did fine for himself. He made a good living as a painter when he was in his thirties and forties. He could’ve retired once he hit sixty-five. But he couldn’t stop gambling.”

“I see.”

“No. You don’t.” Mark was angry. “He was always losing. Then, when he won from time to time, things would get better. He’d take me and the family out. He’d pretend like he was going to change. But it never lasted. He might as well have been on drugs or something for as much good as his addiction did him.” Mark turned toward Tessa. “We had a good relationship when I was a kid—before he found gambling. I tried to help him for a while, but he just couldn’t be trusted.”

Tessa’s shoulders sagged. She didn’t know what to say.

“In fact,” Mark shook his head and frowned, “I lost a ton of money trying to help him out of his hole. But he didn’t care a bit about me. I had to keep him away from my family and my stuff. The truth is I lost my dad a long time before he died. I’m glad I’m not going to have to worry about him causing me and my family any more pain. Look, I’m done in here. I’m going to look through my dad’s room. Is there something else you need?”

Tessa shook her head. “I’m sorry again about your loss.”

“Yeah, well, save your sorries for somebody who can use them. I don’t need them.” He disappeared down the hall toward the bedroom.

Tessa slipped out of the apartment.

She wondered what Mark Sanborn was looking for—was it the money he’d told the casino about?

As she headed to her apartment, she felt guilty about Mark and Chet’s relationship. She and Cheryl had their differences, but she couldn’t imagine being glad if her mom had died.

Something about it all just didn’t add up.

Chapter 9

TESSA TOOK A SIP OF coffee, winced, and tossed the Styrofoam cup in the garbage can in her tiny office. Four cups was probably too much for one morning. She was definitely channeling her nervous energy into sipping away, but her heart pounded like it was trying to escape from her chest. She opted for water to avoid some kind of cardiac event.

Movement through the doorway caught her attention. Gloria passed through the lobby, heading toward her own office.

Tessa logged out of the assignment system, which was blank for the rest of her day—maybe for the rest of forever until she caught Sanborn’s soul. No new jobs meant no groceries. Maybe her neighbor Abi would take pity and feed Tessa some pizza rolls or something.

Tessa pranced out of her office and through the lobby, hoping to avoid her mother’s glare but wanting to chat with her new favorite coworker.

Gloria’s office was actually office-sized, unlike Tessa’s janitor closet space. Tessa leaned on the doorjamb and admired the décor. The other reaper had eclectic taste. There was a mixture of modern and rustic that somehow worked together. Bright, Picasso-like paintings dotted the walls, but the desk was solid oak, heavy and sturdy. Instead of a chair, Gloria bounced on an exercise ball while she woke her computer screen with the touch of the mouse.

She glanced up, and Tessa marveled at the perfectly arranged, long false eyelashes under a coat of sparkly silver eyeshadow. “Hey. Any luck finding your guy yet?” she asked.

“I found him.”

“And?”

“When he saw me, he took off.”

Gloria’s eyes widened. “Oh, man. You, my friend, have a runner.”

Tessa groaned. She crossed a luxurious beige shag area rug to sink into a neon green futon.

“Yeah, I figured that out. But why is he running from me? I mean, it isn’t like he can get his life back, right? He can’t avoid passing to the other side forever, can he?”

Gloria glanced away, not meeting Tessa’s eyes like her answer wasn’t the one Tessa was looking for.

“Shouldn’t he want to get on with things? Move on to the next phase of his existence or whatever?”

“He probably will at some point,” Gloria replied. “But, right now, it seems like he has something important keeping him here. Important to him, anyway.”

“What should I do?”

Gloria shrugged. “You’re going to have to keep trying to tag him. Where’d you see him?”

“The casino. He was hanging out by the blackjack table.”

“You don’t say?” Gloria grinned and sat back in her chair. “So, either he just can’t get enough gambling, even after he can’t really do it anymore or . . .” She tapped the desk thoughtfully and then brightened. “Or someone there owes him something.” She leaned forward and tapped the keyboard a few times. “And look at that! My next assignment is due to choke at the casino’s buffet in two hours.”

“Seriously?”

Gloria stood and gestured for Tessa to follow. “It won’t hurt me to be a little early. Let’s go see what we can find out.”

Tessa leaped up and trailed after Gloria. Her heart rate had slowed back to normal, and she was glad for the company of the experienced reaper.

Once they were settled into the car and heading out of town, Tessa snuck a glance at Gloria, who had donned a pair of designer sunglasses that were huge, round, and gorgeous.

“I love your makeup,” she ventured. “Where do you get it?”

Gloria shot her an amused look. “From the pharmacy.” She laughed.

“Do you really?”

“I buy the cheapest stuff available and use online tutorials to make it look good.”

“Wow! That’s amazing.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal.”

“I can never get mine to look anywhere near as good as yours.”

“Not with that attitude! I’ll help teach you if you’re interested. We can have a makeup tutorial night. With wine. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Tessa beamed. “That sounds great!”

Tessa very much doubted even Gloria could teach her the technicalities of applying makeup or that it would look as good on her. And she knew she wasn’t the type to apply it every day. But hanging out with Gloria sounded like a lot of fun, and if she had to put up with some makeup woes to do it, then so be it.

When they got to the casino, Gloria reapplied her tangerine-colored lipstick before they went in.

The cigarette smoke hit Tessa just as hard as the last time, but it didn’t take as long for her to adjust to it. The reapers wandered among the slot machines, Gloria drawing people’s attention in a way Tessa never could.

When they passed the first room containing table games, Tessa spotted Ricardo there playing blackjack again. She nudged Gloria, who shrugged and followed Tessa’s lead. The women flanked the man, who wore a green version of the casino tank top and held a cigar in one hand. His bushy eyebrows danced, almost touching the fringe of his toupee as he tried to look at them both at once.

“Well, hello, there.” He puffed out his chest and looked smug, as though beautiful women flocked to him daily. “How you ladies doing?”

He looked closer at Tessa. “Hey, don’t I know you? Yeah, I do. From that restaurant downtown, right?”

“Not anymore.” Tessa sighed. “Hey, my friend and I noticed you seem to do pretty well at this.” She nodded toward the cards on the table. “Can you teach us?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” He seemed surprised but shook it off fast. “You came to the right place—the right man. I’ll tell you, the dealers here hate to see me coming.” He said the last part in a hushed tone, eyes darting toward the dealer, who smirked but didn’t correct him.

“Great.” Gloria smiled and settled into a seat. “Teach away.”

Ricardo launched into a detailed but convoluted explanation of the game of blackjack. Tessa didn’t pay a bit of attention. She knew the gist was to make twenty-one. Instead, she tried to appear interested while keeping an eye out for Sanborn’s spirit.

“Who wants to try a hand?” Ricardo beamed at his pupils.

“I’ll do it.” Gloria leaned forward and put a chip on her marker before the dealer tossed out some cards.

As the other reaper played, Tessa leaned toward Ricardo and pointed at his shirt. “One of my neighbors used to wear these all the time. I didn’t realize they were from the casino.”

“Who was your neighbor?”

“Chet Sanborn.”

Alarm flitted across his face. If Tessa hadn’t been watching closely, she might’ve missed it. He quickly rearranged his expression into sadness.

“Oh, yeah, I knew him. It’s a bummer about what happened.” He seemed to be avoiding eye contact. “Do you . . . happen to know the cause of his death? The report I read didn’t say. Heart attack maybe?”

Tessa shook her head. “Unfortunately, he didn’t die of natural causes.”

“What does that mean? He have an accident or something?”

“Someone killed him.”

Ricardo nodded and tsked. “Ah. Can’t say as that I’m too surprised, really. If you’re going to make a living gambling, you have to hedge your bets. Get really good at one, maybe two things and stick with ‘em.”

“Like blackjack!” Gloria screamed as her cards made twenty-one.

Ricardo cheered and fist-pumped. “Way to go! Ha! I’m quite the teacher, eh? But honestly, any putz can make twenty-one. The real trick is to know when to split and double down.”

Tessa steered the conversation back to Sanborn. “So, you were saying Mr. Sanborn didn’t focus.”

“Right. Chet tried to get a little bit into a lot of things instead of a lot into a few. He never got good at anything and lost a lot.” He shook his head. “Kind of a shame.”

Gloria tapped the table with a well-manicured nail and said, “Hit me.”

“Good, good!” Ricardo praised the reaper.

“So, you think Mr. Sanborn was killed because of something to do with his gambling?” Tessa pressed, not wanting to lose the conversation thread again.

Ricardo shrugged. “I can’t really say, but it wouldn’t shock me if he was.”

“Did he owe people money?” Tessa knew he owed the casino, but this was her chance to find out about anyone else.

He took a long pull from his cigar. “Everybody under the sun.” He gave Tessa a serious look and lowered his voice. “You can’t be doing that, you know? Borrowing money from folks and not paying it back. Leaves a bad taste in people’s mouths. We’re all just trying to get by, you know?”

Both she and Gloria nodded in agreement.

“None of us can afford to bleed out money, especially to support somebody else’s habit.”

“Did Sanborn owe you money?”

“You gotta double down on those.” Ricardo disregarded Tessa in favor of Gloria’s instruction.

The dealer added a three to her eight. Gloria hit again to make twenty.

Slowly, she turned toward him, expression serene. Her tone was cool but held a note of irritation. “My grandfather taught me to play blackjack when I couldn’t even see over this table. And I can tell you this—you could be doing a lot better than you are.”

The dealer made seventeen and shoved a stack of chips beside Gloria’s. She pushed away from the table and stood.

“Too bad for you, I have to go to work and don’t have time to teach you any of Granddad’s tips.” She winked and pushed her winnings toward Tessa. “You can have this.”

Gloria started to leave and then stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “By the way. If I were you, I’d give up that horrible smoking habit. Your heart is getting tired of it.”

Tessa wanted to ask Ricardo more about his relationship with Sanborn—maybe try to weasel out some information about how much money Chet had owed the other gambler. Ricardo seemed to have an attitude about Sanborn. Maybe even a motive.

But her phone buzzed, and she took it out of her purse to read the text. It was from her mother: Come over for dinner. This roast is too big for just me.

Tessa sighed. She wasn’t about to turn down free food. But an evening with her mother wasn’t the highest thing on her to-do list. Especially since she hadn’t caught Sanborn’s soul yet. She was pretty sure dinner would consist mainly of getting an earful from Cheryl.

As if she hadn’t been good enough at parental lecturing, now she was also Tessa’s boss. Who knew if their relationship could survive the double dose of authoritarianism.

She put away the phone and turned back toward Ricardo, but his attention was completely on the cards in his hand. The moment was gone.

Tessa left the room, scrounging up the chips that Gloria had gifted her. Maybe she could buy some cat food. She made her way toward the dining room to find Gloria. She didn’t feel like walking back to town and decided she’d rather wait for the other reaper to finish up with her choker.

As she skirted around slot machines, Tessa thought about what Ricardo had said. It jived with what Officer Stewart had let slip—that Chet Sanborn had a lot of enemies who may have wanted him dead. So far, Tessa knew Melinda Chino was one of them. And Ricardo himself seemed to have motive too. Maybe Mark Sanborn could even make the cut.

How was she ever going to narrow down the list enough to figure out who the real culprit was? Because, even though Gloria had said things weren’t quite as dire as Cheryl made them out to be, Tessa knew she only had so much time before a horrible tear ruptured in the veil between worlds. Or, at the very least, before she lost her job.

Chapter 10

EVEN THOUGH TESSA’S mother wasn’t exactly the cookie baking, emotionally nurturing type, going to her childhood home for one of her favorite meals was comforting. Tessa parked Linda on the curb in front of the white colonial with black shutters and gazed at it for a moment.

As always, memories and feelings came at her too fast to process. Happiness, warmth, safety, and anger rushed at her like an oncoming train. Mixed in there, overlying all of it for the past half a decade, was the pang of sadness that her father wouldn’t be opening the door as she walked up the steps to the porch. He always timed it like that.

Tessa sighed and rang the doorbell, catching her breath when the front door opened. But, of course, it wasn’t Michael Randolph standing there, backlit by light from the living room, smiling and then running a hand through thick, dark hair. It was Cheryl. She leaned on the door frame and waited, moving aside to let her daughter enter.

“I thought you had a key.”

“Hello to you too, Mom.” Tessa dropped her purse on the bench in the foyer and breathed deeply. “Dinner smells great.”

“It’s ready,” Cheryl said. “I just need to carry the platter to the dining room.”

Tessa followed through the formal foyer with its brass-framed artwork and mirrors into the big modern kitchen that glittered with stainless steel and polished black and white tile. A platter of roast and vegetables sat on the black granite countertop, and Cheryl grabbed it before heading through another doorway into the formal dining room.

“You changed the locks,” Tessa said in answer to her mother’s earlier question.

“That was years ago.”

Tessa knew it was years ago. But she didn’t visit often enough to warrant a key. Not since her dad passed.

Even though she knew what the answer would be, Tessa asked, “Can’t we just eat at the kitchen table?”

She cast a wistful glance at the wood table tucked into a kitchen alcove next to a huge bay window that looked out onto the front yard’s lovely landscaping. It was a homey, comforting spot that Cheryl never used for family meals.

Sure enough, Tessa’s mother shook her head. “The dining room’s the proper place for dinner.”

She headed into the room in question, which had always made Tessa feel uncomfortable because of its formality. It reminded her of times long past. Nights when she had a boy over and her father grilled him about sports and hobbies—about school if the boy showed any hint of not being good enough for daddy’s little girl.

They never were good enough.

The room was large, with oak wood floors and cream-colored walls. Paintings of food hung at intervals, and a long mahogany table, scrubbed with wood polish until you could see your reflection, stood in the center under a fancy chandelier that dripped with crystals.

Cheryl set down the platter and waited for Tessa to get to her spot. They sat simultaneously. Tessa couldn’t contain a sigh as she looked at the place setting. The china was off-white with a delicate pink and blue flower pattern, and Tessa hated it. She preferred the blue everyday plates in the cupboard. Their chips and stains made her feel comfortable.

How can home not feel like home?

She reached for the red wine already poured at her place and took an unladylike gulp that drew a frown from Cheryl. “Sorry. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Well, you’re my daughter. And, really, this is way too much food for just one person. You can take some leftovers home too.”

That sounded great to Tessa. Cheryl may not look like a fifties housewife, but she was a fantastic cook. The roast would be melt in your mouth good, that went without saying.

For a few minutes, the only sounds in the echoey dining room were utensils against plates as they served themselves and started eating. Tessa wasn’t disappointed. The food was amazing. So much better than the Hot Pockets and ramen she’d gotten used to after losing her waitress job.

Then she remembered something. “Wasn’t this Dad’s favorite?”

Cheryl kept her eyes on her plate and nodded. “Yes. This and spaghetti.”

Tessa chuckled. “Do you remember that time you asked him to make the noodles while you took a shower and he threw some against the wall to see if they were done?”

“How could I forget? He threw a whole blob along with about a half-cup of boiling water.” Cheryl grinned, finally looking up. “He ruined the wallpaper.”

“I helped him tear it off and repaint.” Tessa laughed at the memory.

“Plus, the noodles were overdone and gooey, so we had to go out for dinner,” Cheryl finished, adding her own belly laugh to Tessa’s.

The room seemed to lose some of its formal stiffness as they remembered Tessa’s dad’s antics.

“He was always such a goofball.” Cheryl shook her head and picked up her fork, poking at a carrot.

“Yeah. Dad was like the comedic relief around here.” Whenever you and I got too serious or dramatic, he was always good for a dad joke or some good old slapstick.”

“Us? Get dramatic? Well, I never.” Cheryl grinned. “He used to say I had a flair for it. But he married me anyway.”

The view of her mother blurred as a mist of tears jumped into Tessa’s eyes. “I miss him.”

Cheryl’s face crumpled into a smile. “Me too.”

Tessa tipped her head. “I’ve been wondering about something lately. Did Dad know what you do? I mean, what you really do? Or did he think you were just a life insurance agent?”

“He knew.” Cheryl’s words were soft, but the huge empty room made them perfectly audible.

Tessa turned that over in her mind a bit. Cheryl had held the same job for as long as she could remember. When she’d found out her mother was a reaper, it had taken Tessa a few days to come to grips with the idea. Before that, she hadn’t even believed in an afterlife, spirits, or magic in any way.

“Hey, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. Being a reaper, why didn’t you teach me anything about that kind of stuff when I was younger?”

Cheryl shrugged. “I didn’t see the need. People believe what they want to, really, and it doesn’t matter in the long run. A reaper will come for everyone, whether they know about such things or not.” She set her fork down and grabbed the wine bottle to fill both their glasses.

“I guess.” Tessa bit her lip, wondering whether to ask the next question. It had been on her mind since she learned her mother’s true profession, but the time had never seemed right to ask. “Were you there? You know—for Dad. When he . . . when he died?”

Silence stretched for so long that Tessa thought her mother wasn’t going to answer. She was surprised when Cheryl whispered, “I was there.”

“So, you knew ahead of time it was going to happen?” Tessa tried to keep the accusation out of her words, but her stomach clenched in anger. Michael had died suddenly—the coroner said it was most likely some kind of congenital heart condition, even though he couldn’t find any structural defect in the organ.

Tessa had woken up one morning with a dad and gone to sleep without one. There’d never been a satisfactory answer about why.

“A few hours, yes.” Cheryl drank some wine, more of a gulp than a dignified sip. She set down the glass. “There was nothing I could do. There are rules, you know.” She stared at the wine, not making eye contact with Tessa.

Though there was a lot more she was dying to say about the subject, Tessa swallowed the words. Her father was gone, and whether or not Cheryl could have intervened was a moot point.

Nothing could bring her dad back. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “So, does our agency actually function as a real life insurance company? Like, do we cut checks to beneficiaries?”

Cheryl straightened, her normal cool expression settling over the pain that had been evident there for the past few minutes. “We do,” she said. “And that reminds me—Mark Sanborn has a check coming. You can deliver it to him tomorrow. Just stop by the office and ask Catherine for it. She’ll have it ready by nine.”

Cheryl got up and started clearing dishes. “Remember to keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could lead you to Chet Sanborn’s spirit. You’re running out of time to catch him before there are horrible repercussions. Now, grab that roast, and I’ll package some up for you to take home.”

***

MARK SANBORN LIVED in a bungalow at the edge of town. Pride of ownership was evident in the way the place was cared for—the lawn looked like it had been trimmed on hands and knees with scissors. Not one weed dared poke its head through the cracks in the walk leading to the front stoop.

It was a pity the police officers were smashing the lovely impatiens lining it.

Tessa dove behind the neighbor’s picket fence to hear what was going on.

To her credit, Mark’s wife wasn’t crying about the broken flowers. She wailed about her husband being taken away in handcuffs. “But he didn’t kill my father-in-law!”

The distraught woman pulled on the sleeve of the closest cop, and Tessa recognized Officer Stewart. “What am I going to tell the kids when they get home?”

Stewart shrugged off her hand. “Not my problem, lady. Your husband’s been charged with murder. He’ll have to explain himself to the judge, not to me. I advise you to call your lawyer and tell your kids he went for a business trip.”

The officer shrugged again and hurried after his comrades, who guided Mark toward a police cruiser.

The cops pulled away, leaving Mark’s wife wiping her eyes on the stoop. Tessa straightened and approached cautiously. “Um. I’m sorry to bother you at a time like this.”

The woman turned red-rimmed eyes toward her and sniffed. “Who are you?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Tessa Randolph. I’m from Chet Sanborn’s life insurance agency. Are you Mary Sanborn?” When the woman nodded shakily, Tessa held out the check. “Your husband was Chet Sanborn’s beneficiary.”

Mary took the check, glanced at it, and widened her eyes before looking back at Tessa. “It’s not much, but it’s still a shock that he paid for life insurance at all.”

Tessa nodded. Her picture of Chet Sanborn was already painted. At this point, she wasn’t in need of more details unless they led to catching his spirit.

“At least this will cover the costs for his wake tonight.” Mary winced and glanced the direction the police cars had gone. “Mark is going to miss it, I guess.”

“That’s terrible,” Tessa said. “Maybe he’ll get processed quickly and released in time . . . when is it? Is it close by?” She tried to couch the prying in an empathetic tone, already planning ways to crash the wake. Perhaps Chet Sanborn’s spirit would be there. Gloria had said some of them run from their reaper because they want to attend their funeral.

Mary sniffed and rubbed her eyes one last time. She turned toward the house. “It’s at six tonight in the big room you can rent at Frank’s Bar and Grill.” She shrugged. “Not fancy, but neither was Chet. And it’s affordable.” She waved the check. “Thanks for this. I need to get inside and call our lawyer.”

As Tessa watched Mary disappear into the house, she fought off the groan that wanted to tear out of her throat. Of course Chet’s wake had to be at the very last place Tessa wanted to go.

As she spun around to head back toward Linda, she bolstered herself with the thought that Frank probably wouldn’t even be there. Her ex liked to be home by five to watch movies and eat snacks in his underwear. He usually had staff handle any parties that rented out the big room in the back of the bar in the evenings.

She felt better at that thought.

Yeah. It’ll be fine. Frank won’t even be there.

Chapter 11

WEARING A KNEE-LENGTH navy blue A-line dress covered with white flowers and one-inch beige pumps, Tessa drove to Frank’s Bar and Grill. The drive still felt familiar—the muscle memory of the daily routine, driving there, sometimes twice a day for double shifts, took over. She was able to let her mind wander while her brain automatically handled Linda, whose stubborn phase seemed to be over—at least for a little while.

She stared out at the sun setting on the horizon, thinking about Chet Sanborn and how tragic his life had ended. Had he really been killed by his own son? But that line of thought, paired with the fact that she was going to a wake, quickly led to other thoughts. She couldn’t help but think about her dad.

Michael Randolph had been a kind man—the kindest. Tessa remembered him giving his services as a lawyer pro bono for those who found themselves in need of a defense attorney but without the means to get a good one. And he was a good one. He’d spread his books and papers out over the kitchen table in the evening and pore over old cases, searching for the best way to help his clients. Sure, he had paying ones too. Usually, they were rich people from the city. Essentially, they paid for Tessa’s dad to help the others.

As a result, the Randolphs never had the fancy summer house down south that most of Michael’s lawyer friends had. And sometimes, Cheryl would raise an eyebrow when Michael took on another case for free. At times like those, Michael would grab Cheryl by the waist, swing her around the living room to imaginary music, and make her laugh. He’d make all three of them laugh.

He’d been a great dad and husband.

Tessa remembered going to his funeral but only barely. The whole thing had been a blur. People gave her their condolences. There were lots of hugs. And everyone had a story about her father. Many of them were the people he had helped. Those he’d stood up for in a system that seemed designed to beat them.

Pulling into the parking lot at the bar, Tessa shook off those memories. She needed to stay sharp and have her full concentration on the task at hand. If Chet Sanborn’s spirit showed up, she needed to reel him in. She had to get him to the other side so they could both move on—and she could collect her paycheck.

It felt strange going in the front door of the establishment after years through the back door. But instead of nostalgia, a wave of relief wafted over her. She’d always hated walking past that stinky dumpster and feeling the wave of dry kitchen heat smack her in the face. Going through the front was much nicer. More human.

Frank’s Bar and Grill was the quintessential neighborhood spot. Its log construction and hand-carved wooden bar were both rugged and quaint. Frank had inherited the place from his father, which made it easier for him to turn a profit—he didn’t have a mortgage, so the overhead was limited to payroll, maintenance, and supplies.

Still, Frank was a decent businessman. The place was always bustling. There were pool tables and dart boards. Big flatscreen TVs lined the walls beside the bar. And he served both domestic and craft brews on draught, so the place drew in crowds of all variety.

Tessa stopped in the doorway to look around and get her bearings. A large folding sign in the small lobby proclaimed the place to be closed for a special event. At the bottom, it said RIP Chet Sanborn. She peeked through the doorway. Several people were bunched around the bar, but it wasn’t nearly as busy as a normal Friday night. Plus, it was quieter, more subdued, than the weekend crowd would be.

Mary Sanborn stood near the back of the room, near a long table loaded with food, talking to an older couple. She held two elementary-age kids to her sides, but the children’s eyes darted around as though they wanted to run off and get into some mischief.

“Well, well. Look who’s here.”

Tessa winced and turned to face Frank.

Crud!

She’d really thought he wouldn’t be there. But there he was—all six feet and four inches of him, looking as handsome as ever. He wore black pants and a shirt that looked tailored for him, but Tessa knew he bought them off the rack at Maverick’s Big & Tall on Main Street. He was lucky to be proportioned just right for non-tailored clothes, even if he did have to go to the ritzy shop.

Frank’s grandparents had come over from Sicily, and he had distinctly Italian features, including thick, curly black hair and olive skin. He grinned, and her heart did a strange little dance. Traitor!

“Yeah,” she said meekly. “I came for Mr. Sanborn’s wake. He was my neighbor. Remember?”

She purposely removed her gaze from Frank’s appealing physique and placed it back on the wake-goers. She cursed herself for ending with a question, as if she wanted to talk to Frank—as if she wanted him to remember anything about their relationship.

“I, uh, yeah. I remember.”

Tessa didn’t see Chet’s spirit anywhere. If he did show, she thought he’d be hanging around near Mary or the children.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Frank didn’t sound sorry. “But I’m glad to see you.” He stepped closer.

Alarm bells started going off in Tessa’s mind. What’s he doing? He was within what most Americans would consider their personal space bubble. She stepped back an equivalent amount of space and narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You know, it’s been weird around here without you.” Another step forward. “Weird not having you hang out at my apartment too. I miss you.”

Tessa stepped back again but jumped as her spine hit the maitre d’s lectern.

Trapped.

For a second, she wavered. Maybe being pursued by a handsome man who missed her wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe Frank had learned his lesson and would treat her more like Tessa’s dad had treated her mom if she took him back and less like a king treats the chamber maid.

“I miss you, baby.”

That word. It snapped her wholeheartedly back to reality. Tessa shook her head to clear it out. No way. Frank had missed his chance. He might be feeling nostalgic and acting charming now, but she knew from experience he’d be back to his old ways in no time flat.

She considered using some of the skills she’d learned in the jujitsu class she took the previous summer to get Frank out of her space. But it was one class, and she barely remembered it. She decided to take a more civilized approach. “Aw, that’s a nice thing to say, Frankie. Hey, does that mean you’ve got that check ready—you know, the one you owe me with all that back pay?”

Irritation flitted across his face.

Bingo. She’d been right. Frank hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t going to. He was the same old user he’d always been.

He stepped back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t owe you a red cent.” He turned and nodded toward the expediting window. “It looks like Louie needs me at the kitchen. Gotta run.”

As Tessa watched him hightail it to the kitchen, she sighed in relief. It felt like she’d dodged a major bad choice. There was no doubt in her mind she was better off without Frank.

After taking a minute to gather herself, Tessa stepped into the restaurant’s main room. Mary and the kids were getting food at the buffet.

Another scan of the room for Chet’s spirit turned up nothing. But her gaze did land on someone she knew. Ricardo Vidale. He sat on a barstool, back to the bar as he drank a beer and surveyed the room. His toupee looked the best she’d ever seen it, as though he’d washed and combed it for the wake. He spotted Tessa before she could dart into the crowd and waved her over.

Reluctantly, Tessa approached him, forcing a smile onto her face. “Hey, there. How are you?”

He lifted the beer. “Just fine now that I have this in my hand.”

Tessa thought she might need something too—if this conversation wasn’t quick.

He looked her up and down, creepy as always. “It’s good to see you in here again, even if you aren’t serving my burger.”

“With an extra pickle!”

He smiled, and she thought he really shouldn’t.

“It does feel kind of weird to be in here and not rushing around taking orders.”

“How about I buy you a beer?” Ricardo suggested. “You know, for old time’s sake. Or, how about for Chet. That jerk can’t drink anymore, so we might as well have one or two for him.”

Tessa opened her mouth to agree—why not have a beer she didn’t have to pay for? But before she could say the word, a movement near the ceiling a few feet away caught her attention. She whipped her head around to focus on it. Sure enough, Chet Sanborn’s spirit hovered there. When he saw her looking at him, he flew toward the kitchen. “I, uh, I gotta go!”

“Rain check,” Ricardo called after her.

She dashed after Chet.

While he had the benefit of flying over everyone’s heads—he even went right through a woman’s hat—Tessa had to go around people.

When Chet’s semi-transparent form disappeared into the kitchen, Tessa hesitated, then groaned. She plowed through the swinging door after him. The ghost headed straight toward the back door with Tessa barreling along behind him. She dodged one of the cooks, who swore at her.

“Wash out your mouth, Louie,” she said out of habit.

She caught a glimpse of Frank’s shocked face looking at her from his tiny office tucked off the corner of the big kitchen, but she didn’t slow down. Tessa hit the easy-push bar handle of the back door and burst out into the alley. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d been so happy to avoid the stinky back entrance, and there she was anyway, trying to breathe through her mouth to avoid the horrible odor. It smelled like week-old buffet, a bit sweet and a lot sour.

Dusk had fallen, and Tessa stumbled to a halt so she didn’t run into something as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. She looked around wildly, heart pounding as she worried that she’d lost her mark again. But she caught a glimpse of him heading out of the short alley into the employee parking lot and raced after him, cursing the fact that she was wearing heels.

When she hit the parking lot’s asphalt, Tessa considered removing the shoes and running in bare feet, but she knew that would risk cutting herself on glass or worse. Keeping a neat employee parking lot wasn’t Frank’s strong suit. He preferred to focus on the front of the restaurant and even that was iffy at times.

Chet’s spirit slowed and spun around as though checking to see if the reaper was still after him.

“Stop!” Tessa couldn’t shout as loudly as normal because she was already out of breath. “I just want to talk to you for a minute.”

Chet shook his head. He looked almost solid for a second, but when he turned and the light from a nearby street lamp hit him, his form was semi-transparent again. “You want to send me to the great beyond. I can’t go. Not yet.”

“Why?” she crowed after him. “It’s the next stage in your journey. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid. I just need to tell my son I’m sorry.”

Tessa took a few steps forward, but the spirit flitted backward an equal distance. “Your son? Mark?”

The ghost nodded.

“But he killed you. Didn’t he? He was arrested this afternoon.”

“No,” Chet argued. “That isn’t right. My boy would never do that.”

Tessa used the moment of distraction to edge forward again. “When I talked to Mark, he seemed pretty angry with you.”

Sanborn reached up and scratched a spot in the ring of hair, just like he’d done routinely when he was alive. Tessa wondered if ghosts had itches or if they just retained the habits from their living days. “I didn’t say he didn’t have a right to do it. I just said he didn’t.”

“Then who did?”

Sanborn’s spirit made eye contact with Tessa. It caused a chilly feeling to run up her back. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I had a lot of enemies. I owed a lot of people money and didn’t play by the rules. Even the rules of criminals.

“But my boy is innocent. And I’m just not ready to go.” In the blink of an eye, Sanborn dove into the street light’s pole and was gone.

Tessa growled and clenched her fists. She hung around for ten minutes watching the orange glow of the light, figuring Chet would have to come out eventually. But her stomach started grumbling, and with another groan of frustration, she turned back toward the restaurant.

Maybe she could still get Ricardo to buy her that beer.

Chapter 12

THE NEXT MORNING, TESSA was dragging. She had a blister on each heel from the stupid pumps. And that morning, she’d stepped in cat puke—of course Pepper had the gall to look innocent.

Seriously, how hard was it to find an out-of-the-way, easy-to-clean spot to bring up a hairball? But, noooo. The cat had to leave it right beside the bed where Tessa was sure to place her first footfall of the day.

Oh, and she hadn’t caught Chet Sanborn’s spirit, so the world was probably going to end soon. When it did, it would be entirely her fault.

Talk about a bad week.

That’s why she headed into the office on a Saturday. She couldn’t sleep, and the four walls of her apartment had seemed to be closing in on her. Or maybe it was the air there, threatening to constrict her throat.

Tessa had to find Chet Sanborn’s spirit before it was too late. But at least she knew why he was still here. He wanted to tell Mark that he was sorry. And he probably wanted to know who had killed him—if it wasn’t Mark. Tessa realized she’d like to know that too.

Tessa needed her space to cool off and think.

The office was abandoned when she got there, so Tessa spent twenty minutes figuring out how to work the industrial-size coffee maker. In the end, she had to make a full pot, so now there was enough coffee for her to avoid sleeping for about a week.

But coffee hadn’t even helped break her bad mood. She was on her second cup and sitting at her desk when even those four walls felt more confining than her apartment’s. On a whim, she went into her mother’s office to have a look around. Cheryl would probably call this snooping.

There wasn’t much to look at. Its minimalistic décor was even more striking since Tessa was looking for something to occupy her mind.

Then her gaze fell on the filing cabinet and she had an idea. She set her coffee on the desk and opened the cabinet. Her hand trembled slightly, hovering over the files as she hesitated. Then she flipped through to the Rs. Her heart pounded wildly as she went through the alphabet, looking for Randolph.

But there was no file for Michael Randolph.

“You’re looking in the wrong spot, Theresa.”

Tessa whirled around to face her mother, who leaned against the door frame nonchalantly.

“I, uh, I am?”

Cheryl crossed to the desk, picked up Tessa’s coffee, and handed it to her. Then, she opened a desk drawer and pulled out a canister of wipes. She used one to wipe the spot on the desk where the coffee had sat.

“I didn’t expect you to come in today,” Tessa said.

“Well, I can see that,” her mother said. “I assume you wouldn’t rifle through my things if you expected me to show up at any moment. And I assume you’re looking for your father’s file.”

Tessa shrugged and looked at her feet. “What makes you think that?”

“Because there isn’t anyone else’s file you’d be interested in.” Cheryl paused and drummed her fingers on the glass desk. “His paperwork isn’t filed under his name.”

“Why . . . why not?”

Cheryl paused and pursed her lips. It alarmed Tessa because her mother didn’t usually have to stop and think about what to say. Words came easily to her, and she didn’t put her foot in her mouth like her daughter did routinely.

Finally, Cheryl let out a long breath. “Because he wasn’t supposed to die that day.”

She’d spoken so softly that Tessa wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Her voice cracked when she asked, “Did you say Dad wasn’t supposed to die?”

Cheryl didn’t look up. She only nodded.

Tessa sank into the opposite chair. “What does that even mean? How does that . . .” She thought for a minute. “Was he murdered or something?”

But even as the words slipped out, she knew that wasn’t right. Chet Sanborn had been murdered—and reaping his spirit had shown up as an assignment for Tessa. So, even murders were expected as far as the universe was concerned.

Her mother verified her thought process with a shake of her head. With her lips pressed tightly together, she finally made eye contact with her daughter. She leaned forward. “Your dad took someone else’s place.”

“Whose?” Tessa felt a sinking feeling like a weight had been flung inside her belly.

Cheryl paused, wincing as though the words were causing her physical pain. “Theresa, you were slated to die that day.”

Over the years, Tessa had heard the phrase about feeling like the air was being sucked out of the room, but before then, it had just been a saying. A cliché without real meaning. Until that moment.

Tessa felt as though she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. They burned like she’d run a marathon. She gasped and choked. This was worse than her apartment ever dared to be.

Cheryl looked sympathetic. Beside the wipes in her drawer, she found a box of tissues. She took one for herself and passed Tessa the box.

“I saw it on another reaper’s schedule by accident. You were supposed to get electrocuted by our stupid, old toaster—if you can believe it. I was totally distraught. I told your father, and he was calm. He grabbed my hands and said it was all going to be okay. Then he went into the kitchen and grabbed the toaster. He took it into the garage and beat it with a hammer. He asked me to distract you, so I made some pancakes and took them up to your room.”

Tessa remembered those pancakes like they were the last vestiges of happiness in her life.

“Then, your dad told me to stay out of the kitchen,” Cheryl continued. “He didn’t want me to get in trouble at work for what he was about to do. But I peeked around the door frame without them knowing. I saw it all. When Sylvia, the reaper who was supposed to take you, arrived in our home, your dad opened his arms wide and begged her to take him instead. At first, she refused. But eventually, she agreed.”

“Why?”

Cheryl looked so sad as a small smile tilted up her lips. “She was a mom too.”

“So, he exchanged himself for me?” Tessa said, amazed she’d found the air to speak. “That’s allowed?”

Cheryl shook her head, and her tone was sharp. “No. It isn’t allowed. Sylvia almost lost her job, and there was a big to-do over it. You don’t even want to know all the red tape it created. It’s still not completely settled.” She reached across the desk and squeezed Tessa’s hands. “But you’re here. It’s what your dad wanted.”

So many thoughts swirled through Tessa’s mind that she couldn’t seem to catch one. Her dad wasn’t supposed to die. She was. She shouldn’t be there right now, talking to her mom and feeling the throb of blisters on her heels. She should be on the other side doing . . . whatever spirits did there. Float around and wax philosophical, maybe? Watch their loved ones struggle on earth and send healing energy?

She had no idea how to feel about what she’d just learned. She just felt lost. A new form of grief washed over her. Guilt.

“That paperwork you were looking for is still under your name,” Cheryl said. “If you’d looked a bit beyond the Ms to the Ts, you would have found it. But it’s not really something you need to read.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cheryl shook her head. “Michael asked me not to. And I didn’t see any point in adding that pain to your plate. Losing your dad was hard enough.”

She was right about that. Tessa wanted to take the box of tissues and cry in bed all day.

But Cheryl stood up and spoke more firmly. “And I don’t want you to start feeling guilty or anything like that. Parents make sacrifices for their kids. Your dad was happy to make the one that he did. He loved you. I love you.”

Tessa didn’t answer. It was too late. Guilt had already crept its way into her from every angle, like primordial black, tarry ooze, invading her peace. She shouldn’t be alive. Her dad had missed out on over half his life. And for what? So his daughter could be a waitress with no prospects—living paycheck to paycheck in a crappy apartment?

“Reaper work is complicated, Theresa,” Cheryl said, studying her daughter’s face. “There are a lot of nuances to it. You’re already learning that lesson well with Chet Sanborn. Sometimes, things don’t go the way they’re supposed to. All facets of life are complicated. Even death. It’s best not to overthink all the whys and wherefores. Just keep on doing your job. And right now, for you, that means finding your mark before he sets off a fracture between the worlds.”

Chapter 13

TESSA STOOD OUTSIDE of work trying to get her lungs to work properly again. The news about her dad had left her shocked and exhausted. She wasn’t sure what to do next. It was as though her day—her life—had gone completely sideways.

She allowed herself to wallow for a few minutes while the sun beat on her face. It had already chased away some of the spring morning chill, and sunlight glared off Linda’s windshield.

Tessa straightened her shoulders and marched toward the car. The thing about her dad was going to take a while to process. She was pretty sure sleep was going to be a thing of the past for a long time coming. But there were other things to do in the meantime. Like find Chet Sanborn’s spirit.

She was still confused about whether not finding him would cause some kind of demon apocalypse or if Gloria was right and it was no big deal. She didn’t really want to find out, and beyond that, she wanted to finish the job she’d set out to do.

After that . . . well, she wasn’t sure. Something had begun to niggle at her mind. Anger. She was angry with the reaper who took her dad instead of her. Angry at all reapers in general.

She didn’t think she wanted to be one after this. But that was a decision for another day.

Linda must have caught on to Tessa’s black mood because she didn’t cause any trouble, starting right away. In fact, she sounded like someone had given her a whole new engine. Tessa nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” She patted the dashboard. “Good girl.”

For a minute, she bit her lower lip and wondered where to go next. She glanced at the clock. It was lunchtime.

She headed to Frank’s Bar and Grill. She wasn’t sure why—except that it was the last place she’d seen Chet Sanborn’s spirit. She knew he wasn’t likely to be there again—not since the wake was over. But it was as good a place as any to start her search anew.

Plus, after Ricardo had talked them up, she had a craving for one of Frank’s cheeseburgers.

Speak of the devil.

Ricardo sat at the bar again, hunched over his meal. Tessa was surprised—she’d figured the creepy guy would spend most of his time at the casino. The night before, she downed her beer fast, paid her respects to Mary Sanborn, and left.

Maybe she should spend a bit more time talking to Ricardo this time. He seemed like he hadn’t been telling her the full story.

She sat next to him, earning herself a big, missing-tooth smile. She forced herself to smile back. “Oh, hey. Fancy meeting you here again.”

“Right back at ya, girlie. You’ve been here more lately than when you worked here.” He guffawed at his own joke, sloshing a little beer out of his glass. He wiped his hand on his pants. “Oh, hey, you want another beer?”

Or course she didn’t. It was barely noon. Still, she’d had a rough morning, so she did give it some thought.

“No. I think I’m going to have a burger. Then I need to get going.”

She ordered from the bartender and then sipped the ice water he’d dropped off.

“Ya know,” Ricardo began, “I was surprised to see you at Chet’s wake last night. I never saw you hanging out with him or anything before he died.”

“He was my neighbor.” She shrugged. “Hanging out isn’t the right term for our relationship. But I felt compelled to pay my respects.”

“Compelled, huh.” Ricardo took a gulp of his beer. “That’s one way to think about it.”

Tessa paused and then decided to see if she could get some information flowing. “Yeah, well, it’s true. I’ve learned some interesting things about Chet these past few days.”

“Interesting how?” Ricardo took the bait.

“Melinda Chino told me Chet owed the casino money. Do you know anything about that?”

Ricardo’s bushy eyebrows traveled upward. “Nah,” he scoffed. “That’s gotta be a lie. If anything, it’s the other way around. Chet won the grand prize at the blackjack tournament just a couple weeks ago. I don’t know if he managed to get paid before he checked out.”

Ricardo grabbed a handful of nuts from a bowl in front of him and munched away.

Tessa leaned back to get out of range of any peanut dust that may fly out of the unpleasant man’s mouth. But what he’d said was interesting. Could Melinda have owed Sanborn money? If that was the case, why had she sent her goons to his apartment? And then to her apartment? Could she have been trying to get the prize money back?

Her brow furrowed as she thought about it. None of it made any sense. Why would the casino put on a tournament and then try to steal the prize money back after it was awarded?

Tessa could only think of one reason. She continued to lean back since Ricardo was still eating nuts. “Do you know if the casino is having financial problems or something?”

The waiter dropped off Tessa’s burger while Ricardo looked longingly at his empty pint glass but didn’t order another one. He sighed and shoved the peanut bowl aside. “Not that I know of. I mean, it’s a casino. People are there spending money all day every day. How could they be low on money?”

Tessa nodded. He made a good point.

“I mean,” he continued, “Melinda Chino seems to be making a mint. She’s building a new house on fifty acres outside of town. The place looks like a mansion. You should see it—it’s only framed in right now, but it’s got two towers. One on each side. Regular Rapunzel towers. You know the type.” He chuckled and shook his head. “She must have more money than you or I would see in ten lifetimes.”

Lifetimes. Tessa pondered the word. She couldn’t help thinking about her dad and the half a lifetime he’d wasted on her. She knew that, from then on out, she’d have to stop squandering it.

Ricardo climbed unsteadily off the barstool. “I’ll be right back.”

She chewed and watched him retreat toward the men’s room, mulling over what he’d said. Melinda was building a big, fancy house off her casino earnings. Was that normal for a manager? Tessa supposed the woman could be independently wealthy.

But maybe there was a different explanation. Maybe she was siphoning money from the casino. Could she have killed Sanborn to steal back the blackjack money for herself?

Deciding she needed to make a point to talk to Melinda again, Tessa left some cash on the bar for the burger and hurried out of the restaurant before Ricardo could get back from the men’s room.

It bothered her a tiny bit that she didn’t even feel bad about it.

Chapter 14

THE NEXT DAY WAS WARMER, and Tessa wore denim shorts and a red cap sleeve shirt to the office. She figured her mother would get after her about her wardrobe or, at the very least, raise a perfect eyebrow. But Tessa didn’t care. She was fed up.

She’d spent the night sitting on the sofa, stroking a purring Pepper and thinking about reapers. The more she sat and thought, the angrier she got. What kind of job expected people to escort souls to the other side? It must be the absolute worst job in existence.

As dawn got closer and Tessa dove deeper into her emotions, she began to realize she was angry at someone she really didn’t want to ever be mad at. Her father. She’d buried her face in Pepper’s soft fur and groaned. “Why did you do it, Dad? You still had a long life ahead of you. It was supposed to be me.”

The cat looked at her with confusion plastered on her sleepy kitty face.

Tessa couldn’t help but laugh. “Not you, fur ball. You’re okay.”

Her phone had dinged, making both of them jump. It was an assignment.

Tessa narrowed her eyes as she studied the screen. She didn’t want to be a reaper anymore. She’d made the decision. Someone else would have to take the assignment—maybe Gloria needed the extra money.

Her phone had chimed again. This time it was a text from her mother.

“I know it’s hard right now. But I gave you another assignment. You should get the notification any minute if you haven’t already.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. Her mother acted as if she was doing her a favor. Cheryl could do it herself. Tessa was out.

And if no one found Chet Sanborn’s spirit and the world ended in a war between spirits and live people, Tessa would lock herself in the apartment with Pepper and live on noodles and peanut butter until it was over. So, basically, nothing would change.

She made sure to show up at the office with plenty of time before the assignment. That way, Cheryl would have one less thing to judge her about—aside from her attire. There was plenty of time for another reaper to get there in time.

Tessa crossed the marble floor, heading straight for her mother’s office. The blisters on her heels felt better, but she’d still put on Band-Aids inside her blue Chuck Taylors.

Cheryl’s office was empty. So was Gloria’s. In fact, the only person Tessa could find in the entire building was the janitor, who was finishing up and heading out.

“It’s Sunday,” he told her. “Y’all usually work from home on Sunday.”

Pursing her lips, Tessa thought about jotting down a quick resignation letter and leaving it on her mother’s desk. But she glanced at the clock above the reception desk.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “There’s no way someone else can get there in time.”

The assignment was at a nursing home on the other side of town. If she couldn’t make contact with another reaper right then, no one would be there when Ellen Walker passed.

Then there could be two souls wandering around Mist River.

With a groan, Tessa stomped out the door, resigned to the fact that she’d need to do one last assignment before she could retire her reaper powers.

Fine. One more.

At least then, she could pay a couple more bills or maybe get groceries. She was running out of peanut butter. And who knew how long it would be before she could find another job, get hired, and work long enough for another paycheck.

Yeah. Maybe this is a good thing.

Tessa tried not to wonder too much why Linda was cooperating so well lately. It felt like one of those situations when, if she gave it thought or attention, it would go sour on her. So, she just gave a silent cheer when the engine roared to life and then tried to act like it was an everyday occurrence.

When she got to the Mist River Senior Home, Tessa checked the time. On her phone, not Linda’s slow clock. She had five minutes to figure out where Ellen’s room was and get there. Should be plenty of time, in theory.

The nursing home was old but sparkling clean and cheerfully decorated. It looked more like someone’s home than a hotel, which Tessa found soothing. The lobby was filled with plants and bright paintings, and a small desk stood in the corner instead of a big doctor’s office-style window.

No one sat behind the desk.

Tessa hurried over and rang the bell. She waited, tapping her foot, for a minute, but time was getting away from her. Thinking about how she’d been too late to escort Mr. Sanborn over and the huge mess that ensued, she figured she’d better be proactive about finding Ellen.

Her maternal grandmother had lived in the home, so Tessa knew her way around a bit. She pictured the layout for a moment—there was one wing for men and another for women. She headed toward the women’s wing, entering the long hallway through a metal door.

The cheerful décor continued in the hallway—more plants, paintings, and tables. Tessa hurried along, glancing into each open door she came to, hoping Ellen wasn’t behind one of the few closed ones.

About halfway down, on the left, Tessa found her. And she was too late. Ellen had already passed away. Her spirit stood next to the still form on the bed. Well, at least she’d stayed put. She hadn’t run like Sanborn did when her reaper wasn’t johnny-on-the-spot.

Tessa moved into the room. It reminded her of her grandmother, all decorated in pale pink and pastel green. Lace doilies covered every available surface, and silver-framed pictures of Ellen and her family made up the main decoration.

Ellen smiled at Tessa. “Hello, dear. I’m glad you could make it.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Tessa smiled. “I’m new and still getting the hang of all this.”

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself about it.” Ellen gazed lovingly at her physical form, brushing a transparent hand over her own cheek. “It was a good body, and in the end, I went in my sleep.”

“So did my grandmother,” Tessa said.

Ellen beamed back at her. “I couldn’t have asked for a better life or death.”

Tessa couldn’t help but think of her dad. He hadn’t gotten the good, long life that Ellen had. He didn’t even have much time to contemplate the rest of his life. His reaper had let him sacrifice himself.

Ellen’s spirit floated away from her body, stopping at a framed photo of her younger self, smiling next to a handsome man. “I can’t wait to see Walter. Do you know, will it be very long before I can be with him?”

“I, uh, I don’t know the answer to that.”

Ellen waved off the apology. “Oh, that’s right. You’re new. It’s okay. I guess I’ll find out soon enough!”

“Yeah, it’s probably time to go.” Tessa wanted to get back to the agency and put in her resignation. She waved a hand, and a beam of light shot into the room as though someone had opened a skylight. She reached out for Ellen’s spirit. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, dear. I am.” Ellen turned away from her body. She shot Tessa one more smile.

Tessa reached out and touched the spirit. It didn’t feel like anything, but suddenly, she felt like she was moving—rising into the beam of light. They traveled together like that for a few moments. Tessa glanced at Ellen’s spirit. Her expression was serene. Hopeful. Happy.

She looked beautiful.

Suddenly, Ellen gasped and pointed. Ahead of them, a figure stood, backlit by the white light. As they got closer, Tessa could see it was an elderly man. She stopped short and let Ellen go ahead. She floated toward the other spirit, who opened his arms to embrace her tenderly.

Tears sprang to Tessa’s eyes. She could feel the joy emanating from both spirits. They were at peace, finally reunited at the end of long, happy lives.

The spirits parted, and the man offered his elbow to Ellen, who accepted it readily. They floated away, blinking out of Tessa’s view after a moment.

In the next instant, Tessa was back in Ellen’s room. The light was gone. She slipped out and hurried back toward the lobby, filled with emotion, still wiping tears from her eyes. What she’d just witnessed—the reunion she’d facilitated with her reaper power—had been nothing short of breathtakingly beautiful. Tessa felt honored to have witnessed it.

She emerged from the nursing home into the sun and looked to the sky, imagining Ellen and her husband dancing with the stars, still in love even in the next leg of their journey. She smiled and breathed deeply, feeling her heart settle into an easier rhythm than she’d felt in days.

She shook her head, thinking about her mother. Cheryl knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe Tessa didn’t want to give up her new job after all.

Chapter 15

TESSA DECIDED TO HEAD home for some lunch and figure out her next move for finding Chet Sanborn. She realized that crossing over wasn’t necessarily as scary as Chet probably thought. Or at least it didn’t have to be. She just had to convince Chet. Things would resolve themselves on Earth with or without him. But she did hope that everything with his son Mark found a resolution soon.

Silas was in the lobby, taking a rare break and sitting behind the front desk doing nothing. He smiled, revealing those irresistible dimples. He nodded toward the sun streaming through the front windows. “Nice day.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful out.”

“If only I wasn’t stuck inside.”

“What? Are you out of repairs to work on?”

He snorted. “Never. I’m just taking a breather.”

“That’s so . . . unlike you.”

“I’m taking a play out of your playbook,” he said. “Oh, by the way, I saw Officer Stewart at the hardware store this morning. We had an interesting conversation.”

“About?”

“Well, about grout mostly.”

“And?”

“And he told me they released Mark Sanborn.”

Tessa pursed her lips, thinking. “So, they can’t prove he did it.”

“Usually,” Silas said, “they don’t make an arrest until they’re pretty sure they can prove it. I’m thinking he must have had an alibi that checked out and overwhelmed their proof.”

“That’s what you think, huh?”

Silas shrugged. “I watch a lot of Law & Order.”

“Hmm.” She leaned on the desk and studied him for a moment. She knew Chet Sanborn wanted to talk to his son. If he was at home, maybe she’d find the errant spirit there. Since she’d decided to keep her reaper job, apprehending him was back on her short list of things to get done.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” She turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?” He sounded suspicious. “You just got here—you didn’t even go to your apartment yet.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Um. I just remembered an errand I need to run.” She winced, hearing her own tone sounding like an evasion. Tessa had never been a good liar.

“Listen,” Silas said, “If you’re going to Mark Sanborn’s house, I’m going with you. I learned my lesson last time.”

“You did?”

“After I dropped you off at that casino, I worried about you like crazy. Felt like a horrible friend for leaving you there in a possibly dangerous situation. I don’t want to deal with that again—it’ll throw off my whole day.” He came around the counter. “And I’ll drive. I don’t feel like getting stranded by that bucket of rust you call a car.”

“Hey! Linda isn’t rusty. She’s just . . . finicky.” Tessa followed him out to his Silverado. Tessa gave Linda a frown. “Don’t tell her, but I’m saving up for something newer and more reliable.”

“That’s nice.” He fired up the truck’s engine. “And in the meantime, I can probably keep her going for you.”

“You know how to fix cars too?” Tessa wondered what this man couldn’t do.

“Some,” he said. “My dad and I used to work on them a lot when I was a kid. I picked up some tricks. So, where’s this guy live?”

Tessa gave him directions to Mark and Mary Sanborn’s house and enjoyed the feeling of the warm cab as they drove over. They turned into the large suburban community where the houses all shared design aesthetics and the same size lots. People were outside, walking or playing catch in their yards. After the cold, rainy snap they’d had, everyone was soaking up the sun.

They pulled up in front of the Sanborns’ house and got out. Tessa hurried around the truck and intercepted Silas. “You can wait here for me if you want.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m coming in with you.”

“Why?” Having a driver was one thing, but Silas would definitely interfere if she found Chet’s spirit. He’d probably think she went crazy if she started talking to an unseen entity.

“I’m not convinced the cops didn’t let a murderer go free.” He crossed his flannel-clad arms. “And I’m not sending you in to face a killer alone. Sorry. You’re stuck with me.”

She eyed him for a moment. His face was set into hard lines, and his shoulder and arm muscles looked tense. He resembled a dangerous, angry lumberjack. “Fine. But let me do the talking, okay? You’re kind of . . . intimidating right now.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m not intimidating. I’m totally guy-next-door friendly.”

That was true most of the time. Silas was the type of guy people wanted to tell their life story.

“Maybe you should stay here while I talk to Mark.” Smugness oozed out of his body language.

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Let me do the talking, Mr. Guy-next-door.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about, Tessa?” Silas asked as they opened the picket fence to the yard. “It’s about your new job, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not going to be telling any lies to get answers, are you? Because, honestly, you’re terrible at it.”

“And you’re a good liar, huh?” She climbed the steps to the stoop and then dug in her purse for a ponytail holder to pull back her long hair.

Silas shrugged. “I haven’t had much occasion to lie in my life, but anyone would be better at it than you. You have a tell.”

“I do?”

He nodded. “You bite your bottom lip right before you say something untrue. It’s a basic, beginner’s tell. You should work on it if you intend to do much lying.”

She blinked at him, dumbfounded. Tessa had no idea it was that easy to see she was lying, but it explained so much. Like how her dad had always known when she was lying as a teenager. “Huh. I didn’t know I did that.”

“Yeah, well, stick with this life insurance thing, okay? I don’t think we’ll be seeing you on World Series of Poker anytime soon.” He chuckled.

Before she could stop herself, Tessa bit her bottom lip, just thinking about the lie that she was strictly a life insurance agent. Luckily, Silas wasn’t looking at her—he was knocking on the door. She forced her lip back out and straightened her spine.

Mary Sanborn answered the door. She looked confused until she glanced past Silas and spotted Tessa. “Oh, hello again. Is there some paperwork or something that got missed?”

Tessa shook her head. “No, I was just wondering if I could talk to your husband for a moment. Is he home?”

Over Mary’s shoulder, Tessa saw a familiar form flit through the air. Chet Sanborn’s spirit was there! She fought the urge to barrel over Mary to get to him, forcing her expression to stay relaxed and pleasant.

Mary glanced over her own shoulder and looked uneasy. “He’s in his office catching up on a few things. He got behind with work while he was . . . detained.”

“We heard the police let him go,” Silas interjected. “That’s good news. Do you know if they arrested someone else?”

Mary shook her head and stood aside to let them in. “No, the officer who released Mark said they didn’t have any other leads.”

They followed Mary through a cozy living room filled with worn furniture and discarded toys. Tessa continuously scanned for another sign of the ghost. They went down a short hall, past a bathroom, to a bedroom that had been converted to an office.

Mark sat behind a desk piled high with papers, a harried look on his face. His clothes and hair were rumpled.

Over his shoulder, Chet hovered.

Tessa could see glimpses of books on the shelves behind him through his half-transparent body. He glared at Tessa, shaking his spirit head from side to side. “I’m not ready.”

She opened her mouth to reply but snapped it shut fast. Chet could speak without the others hearing him because they couldn’t see spirits. But they’d hear her answer him clear as a bell—and think she was crazy.

Instead, she shot a quick glance back at the ghost before tearing her eyes away from him to focus on the live people in the room.

“Honey, this is the woman from the life insurance company and . . .” Mary shot a quizzical look at Silas.

“Her partner,” he drawled, grinning. “Silas St. Onge.”

Mark gave them a weary look. For a moment, recognition flitted across his face. “I’ve met so many people the past few days. I could swear you worked up at my dad’s apartment complex.”

“My, uh, my brother does.”

Silas wasn’t as good a liar as he’d claimed.

Mark shook his head. “Whatever. Nice to meet you. What can I help you with?”

Tessa itched to leap forward, open a way to the other side, and drag Chet Sanborn through it. But then she looked at his face. The glare was gone and in its place was an expression that looked almost begging. “Not yet. I’m not ready,” he repeated, but this time, it sounded like a plea.

“Mr. Sanborn, I just need to get some information from you. As you can probably understand, your father’s life insurance disbursement to you isn’t valid if . . . well, if you killed him.”

Mark nodded as if he expected this line of questioning.

“Can you please explain why you were released from jail?” Tessa couldn’t keep her eyes from flitting to Chet periodically. She didn’t trust the spirit to stay put.

“He didn’t kill me,” Chet argued.

“Shh!” Tessa admonished.

Mark looked confused. “What?”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I, um, have some ear ringing that bothers me sometimes. Please . . . go ahead.” She ignored Silas’s gaze on her.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to ask the cops?” He shook his head. “They cross-checked my cell phone records and location stamps against my digital time clock at work. It proved I was at the office when Dad died—just like I told them.” He ran a hand over his face. Exhaustion radiated from him like heat waves from concrete in the summer.

“Told you so,” Chet sneered.

Tessa pressed her lips together and forced herself not to glare at her mark. “Thanks for the information, Mark. And you’d be willing to sign something attesting to that once we have the lawyers draw it up, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You have to give me a little more time,” Chet pleaded. “I have to make sure my son understands that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Everyone looked at her, bewildered expressions on every face.

“I mean, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Sanborn. I don’t think I had enough coffee this morning.” She laughed nervously.

Mark nodded. “I get that. And it’s no sweat. I don’t mind signing whatever I need to. At least I’m getting something back from the guy who had the nerve to steal from his own son.”

“Your dad stole from you?” Silas sounded shocked.

“That’s why I’m sorry,” Chet whispered.

Mark nodded. “He gave me a Hank Aaron rookie card when I was a kid. It was my most prized possession. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I thought it meant something—I thought it meant my dad loved me.”

“I do love you,” Chet said.

“Then, when he ran into some trouble with gambling debts, he stole it while he was over here eating my wife’s famous lasagna.” Mark’s face twisted in disgust. “I guess he didn’t love me after all. Or at least, he loved gambling more.”

“I didn’t realize he knew I’d taken it.” Chet sounded miserable. “I never meant for him to know.”

“I’m sure your dad was sorry about that,” Tessa tried to help things along.

“I’m sorry about everything. Not just stealing the card but being a horrible father most of his life. I always thought the way to show him I loved him was to make lots of money and leave it to him. So he wouldn’t have to work the way I did. But it turned out he would have rather had me spend time with him.” He hung his ghostly head. “I returned the card. It’s here—in the armoire.”

Tessa’s mind raced. How could she get Mark to find the card without revealing she could talk to spirits? She cleared her throat. “Your father took out an insurance policy on that card in your name. If it’s not here in your home, then we’ll need to file a report.” Her heart pounded as she fought to keep from biting her lip. Silas was watching her carefully. Funny how overwhelming the urge was to nibble on it.

Mark’s head jerked up. “It’s not here. I checked a week ago.”

“Maybe you should check again. Just in case? If it is missing, I’ll need to draw up the paperwork.” Tessa held her breath. It looked like Chet’s spirit was holding his too, though she was the one who needed oxygen.

Mary moved to the armoire in the corner, opening one side. She dug around for a minute and then pulled out a cardboard box. “This is where your cards are, right, honey?”

“Yeah. But the rookie card isn’t in there.”

Mark squirmed in his seat and reached for the box. He pulled off the cover and gasped.

“Seriously? It’s here. I don’t believe it.” He pulled out the card and set it on the desk. It was in a plastic protective case. Attached to the underside of the case, there was a sticky note. Mark scanned it. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with tears. “It’s from Dad. It says he’s sorry.” He handed the note to his wife and wiped his eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you found it.” Tessa turned to go, giving Chet a meaningful glance.

The spirit nodded. “That’s all I needed.”

Tessa stopped in the hallway and turned toward Mary. “Could I use your restroom before we go?”

“Sure.” Mary gestured toward the room.

When Tessa closed herself in, Chet was already there.

“You’ve been a major problem for me, you know,” she whispered as she waved a hand and the beam of light cut through the air.

“I’m sorry about that.” Chet floated along the beam, his expression serene. “But sometimes you gamble and win. That’s what I did.”

“Wait a second,” Tessa cried as Chet moved ahead quickly. “Who killed you?”

But he didn’t answer. And in the next instant, he was gone.

Chapter 16

TESSA SPENT SOME TIME fighting the urge to go to her mom’s house and gloat. She was having quite the day. Two spirits. It looked like reality was going to be fine. Now that Chet Sanborn had passed over, there was nothing much to fret about.

In the end, she figured Cheryl’d probably got some kind of notification from the higher-ups about it. And since she hadn’t already called Tessa to congratulate her, it probably meant she was going to ignore the accomplishment altogether.

So, Tessa decided not to waste her time. She asked Silas to take her back to the apartment. After all, it was Sunday afternoon and Pepper was probably plotting something evil to get revenge for all the time she’d been forced to spend alone that week. Instead of a hair ball, Tessa may find herself stepping in something worse within the next few days.

She thought she should spend some quality time playing wand toy with the cat to avoid such a horrifying fate. And maybe after today’s work, she could make things official and start paying Pepper’s pet fee at the apartment.

But something niggled at her mind. Chet hadn’t told Tessa who killed him. Of course, it really wasn’t her problem anymore. She’d found her mark and sent him to the other side like she was supposed to do. Figuring out who’d killed him in the first place was the cops’ puzzle to solve.

And yet . . .

“Aargh.” She turned toward Silas, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

"What? Is it talk like a pirate day?”

“No.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not. But I need a favor.”

“Another one?”

“Can you take me to the casino again?”

“I guess.” He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road and doing a legal U-turn after missing several spots to do one illegally.

“That was kind of strange back at Mark Sanborn’s house . . .”

A tingle traveled up her spine. She concentrated hard on not biting her lower lip. “Was it? What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.” After thirty seconds of silence, he said, “I mean, it was just kind of crazy how you put that all together—about the card and it being back in the armoire. And then the note from Chet to his son. It just worked out so . . . so perfectly.”

She recognized the strange tone in his voice. He knew something was up. Tessa worked to keep her tone even—and from biting her lip.

“Just a lucky guess on my part, really,” she said. “I mean, he took out both policies through our agency, one on himself and one on the Hank Aaron card. I was doing my due diligence.”

“Yeah. Lucky.” He turned onto the highway, heading toward the casino. “And you’re still not a very good liar by the way—even when you don’t bite your lip.”

Silence filled the cab for the rest of the ride. Tessa worked hard not to squirm. She didn’t want to confirm Silas’s suspicions that something wasn’t right.

When he dropped her off in the casino’s parking lot, he offered her a simple goodbye with no offer of waiting for her or coming along. She waved and hurried away, feeling his gaze on the back of her head.

Tessa marched onto the main floor of the casino, trying to ignore the smoke. She located a security camera and waved directly into it. She only had to wait for a few minutes before Horner showed up. He wasn’t in the greeting mood.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“I want to talk to the boss.”

“She doesn’t have an appointment available. Call first next time.” He turned his back to her.

“I need to talk to her about Chet Sanborn and the money he owed.” She tried to sound mysterious, like she may know where the money was hidden. Then she held her breath, waiting to see if she’d hit the mark.

Horner stopped and turned back around, frowning.

“So. Can I please see Melinda?”

She couldn’t tell if he was scowling or not—his normal expression was pretty much a constant sneer. But he finally jerked his head in a quick nod and led her through the blackjack room to the hallway that led to Melinda’s fancy office. Tessa avoided eye contact with Ricardo as she passed through the blackjack room.

On the way back, Tessa wondered how Horner had gotten the scar on his face. Was it a childhood mishap or a grown man fight wound? Either way, it made him more menacing, that much was for sure.

He knocked on the door.

When Melinda’s clear, strong voice beckoned them, Tessa didn’t wait for an individual invitation. She brushed past the goon and marched up to the boss woman’s desk.

"Ms. Randolph, you continually surprise me.”

“Did Chet Sanborn really owe you money?” Tessa demanded. “Or did you owe it to him?”

Melinda’s overly thin eyebrows migrated toward each other when she narrowed her eyes. Then she glanced over Tessa’s shoulder. “You can go, Horner.”

Once the door clicked behind him, Melinda sat back in her chair and steepled her fingers. “You’re a nosy one, aren’t you?”

Tessa didn’t figure that required a reply. “Chet Sanborn didn’t owe the casino money, did he?” she repeated. “I think you’re trying to get the blackjack tournament prize money back.”

“You do, do you?”

“Because you need it for your new house,” Tessa added. In for a penny . . .

“My house? Really?” Melinda sighed. “No. We believed he was cheating. But the cameras weren’t enough to get us the proof we needed.”

“So, what, you thought he was counting cards or something?”

“Using a marked deck. Maddox and Horner went over to search his apartment for it.” Melinda’s tone and expression were cool—as though she ordered breaking and entering every day and her actions shouldn’t be questioned.

“But how would he insert a marked deck into the game?” Tessa asked. “Doesn’t the casino have safeguards in place for that sort of thing?”

What Tessa knew about casinos and gambling could fit on one sheet of paper if she wrote it down. It was nothing quite like Gloria’s. But she’d watched a lot of movies.

Melinda’s thin lips got thinner as her jaw clenched. Her next words came through gritted teeth. “The dealer would have to be involved too.”

Ah. That makes sense.

If a casino employee was on the take, being blackmailed to use a marked deck, that would definitely be something the manager would want to root out and put a stop to. But at the risk of her goons getting arrested for breaking and entering?

“So, when your guys switched over to trying to find me because they saw me get arrested . . .”

“We thought you’d been involved somehow. Perhaps you’d disposed of the marked deck,” Melinda finished.

It didn’t sound like a story Melinda could make up on the fly. But an eerie thought skidded through Tessa’s mind. What if Melinda hadn’t ordered Chet’s apartment searched? What if she’d been more sure of her suspicions that he was cheating the casino? Had she told the owners? What if this was the reason Chet had been killed?

Melinda’s phone rang, and she picked it up. “Yes?” She listened for a moment. “No, that’s not right. We need one branded car and twenty-eight golf carts for the charity tournament tomorrow.” Another pause and then irritation flooded her features. She smacked the desk with her palm. “No! No, no, no. How many times do I have to tell you people that there will be fourteen teams of four. Fourteen fours. It’s not hard.”

Unable to shake the feeling that Melinda’s actions had led to Sanborn’s murder, Tessa took the opportunity to scoot out of the room and hurry down the hallway. Her thoughts raced as she tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. If someone connected to the casino had killed Chet, and they thought she was in on it too, then maybe they’d planned to kill her next.

Male voices drifted into the hallway from a side room. Something about the tone made Tessa pause and listen. “That’s ridiculous! Chino’s not going to go for that.”

“She doesn’t have a choice. This is a real mess, and if she wants to keep her fancy job and build her extravagant house, she’ll let me handle it.”

Tessa was sure that was Horner. He sounded venomous. She had a vision of him strangling Chet Sanborn and tossing him in the frigid water at the bottom of the pool. She hurried past the doorway, not glancing into the room. She didn’t want Horner and whoever he was talking with to think she’d overheard anything.

Relief flooded her when she exited the hallway into the table games room. Ricardo was still at the blackjack table, but now, Gloria sat next to him, her chin resting on a fist. She wore dark maroon eye makeup and exactly matching lipstick, but her expression was forlorn.

Tessa started to cross the room to greet the other reaper, but then Ricardo surged out of his seat, fist pumped the air, and cheered, lunging forward to gather a big pile of chips into his arms. The others at the table grumbled and moaned. Gloria looked disinterested.

Someone brushed past Tessa, coming from behind her. It was Horner, approaching the blackjack table. But before he got there, the bulky man suddenly doubled over, clutching his abdomen.

Gloria sighed and got up, moving toward Melinda’s goon. She waved a hand, and a beam of light appeared in the room. Horner’s spirit rose from his body and hovered there, shock and confusion written all over the semi-transparent features.

Tessa moved next to Gloria. “Wow. I did not see that coming. Did he have a heart attack?”

“No.” Gloria shook her head. “That man was poisoned.”

Chapter 17

“THAT HORNER GUY—WHAT a name.” Cheryl shook her head. “That was supposed to be your assignment.”

“It was?”

Cheryl nodded. “You lucked out, and I rearranged your schedule for Ellen Walker.”

“Thanks for that.” Tessa couldn’t tell if her mother had meant it as a kind gesture or if she’d used it to ensure she stayed employed as a grim reaper. Either way, it had worked.

But her mother held her cards close, so to speak.

Tessa sank into the chair across from her mother’s. “Hey, what do you know about that death, anyway? Gloria said it was poison. What kind of poison? Do you know who did it?”

Tessa had to admit—Horner had been her main suspect in Sanborn’s death. Especially after she overheard his harsh words about Melinda, who had taken her turn as Tessa’s main suspect too.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “That isn’t the kind of information we’re given. You know that.”

“I thought maybe you—"

“You think I have higher access. And you’re right. I do. I suppose you think I should be thanking you for your little stunt?”

“For what?”

“For Chet Sanborn. You probably think you did good sending his spirit away like that—in a room full of people.”

Chery looked livid, bringing back memories of the time Tessa had used her mother’s crotchet needles to dig for worms in the back garden when she was seven. She’d simultaneously ruined the needles and the day lilies.

“Technically, he went in the bathroom.”

“You know what I mean, Theresa.”

Cheryl tapped her computer keyboard for a minute and then snapped, “I swear, Theresa. Between losing souls, not having your phone on, and insisting on driving that completely unreliable car around, I don’t know how you expect to keep this job.”

“Linda isn’t unreliable. She’s just picky about when she runs.” Tessa batted her eyes and blinked slowly in an attempt to look innocent when her mother shot her a scornful look.

“You need to do better if you want to keep this job.” Cheryl leaned forward, her expression suddenly probing with a hint of something else. Insecurity? “Do you want to keep this job?”

There it was.

Tessa thought of Ellen and her husband, reuniting in the next life. She thought of Chet, needing some time to make sure his son knew he was sorry for his less than stellar parenting before he moved on. And finally of Mark Sanborn, who would have the gift of spending the rest of his life knowing he’d meant something to his dad.

“I do,” she said firmly. Tessa knew it was true. She did want to be a reaper.

Maybe she could even come to terms with what her dad had done for her—and with the hand her mother and the agency had in it.

Cheryl’s face returned to its usual cool smoothness. “Fine. Then I suggest you start focusing on ways to improve your performance. You can start by giving up on the detective routine. That isn’t what we do here.”

“I’m not—"

“Your missing soul is safely across the veil now, so you can move on. Even this new guy—if it’s connected—he’s no concern of yours. Leave the murder mystery to the real detectives. The ones who get paid to solve it.”

She focused on her computer screen, clearly dismissing her daughter.

Tessa started to head to her micro-office, but her mother’s use of the word detective rang in her ears. She wasn’t a detective, and she didn’t get paid to be one, but the idea that a killer was loose in the community, still killing, was unsettling. Not only that, but Tessa also couldn’t help but wonder if she may be next on the killer’s hit list. After all, Maddox and Horner had come to her apartment. She wondered what her mother would think if she knew the whole story. But she was smarter than to tell her.

“You’re right, Mom,” she said when she was out the door. But she was thinking the opposite. Maybe she should act like a detective.

But what should her next step be? She spun around and made for her car instead, wracking her brain as she went. What next?

She knew Chet was a gambler. Not a great one, but he managed to get it right sometimes, like when he won the blackjack tournament. Except that had earned him suspicion of being a cheater.

Tessa got in the car and sat drumming her fingers on the wheel. Would Melinda have suspected any tournament winner of cheating? Probably not. Chet must have had a history of acting less than a hundred percent honestly.

Of course, Mark Sanborn already knew that about his father.

Tessa’s brow furrowed. Why had Chet stolen the valuable baseball card from his son and then returned it? He’d told Tessa he never intended for Mark to find out the card was gone—which meant he’d needed the money for something but fully expected to be able to buy the card back in short order.

Maybe Chet had needed it for entry money for the tournament? Who could turn a baseball card into cash?

Outside almost every casino in the world sits a pawn shop. Mist River’s was no different. She’d seen a pawn shop as she stared out the Silverado’s window while Silas drove her to the casino. That would seem like an obvious choice of places for Chet to sell the baseball card.

She pulled out of the spot and pointed the car that way. When she got there, she frowned. The place was pretty run-down, with all the requisite neon signs in the big front windows declaring there to be jewelry, video games, sports paraphernalia, gold, and silver handled in the establishment. But the window itself didn’t look like it had been cleaned in months.

Tessa took a deep breath before getting out of Linda to head into the shop. The bells over the door jangled, and an elderly man looked up from where he sat behind a long glass display case. He was perched on a stool, thumbing through a magazine that Tessa knew wasn’t for the articles.

“What can I do you for?” His voice was higher than she’d expected.

“Hi,” Tessa said, her voice sounding a little higher too. “I’m wondering if you can tell me anything about a specific transaction.”

She approached the desk and peered inside. It was filled with engagement rings, watches, cuff links, and fancy coins. There were even some small metal statues and old-fashioned small appliances. Tessa spotted an open binder with baseball cards inserted in laminated sheets. “It was a Hank Aaron rookie card. Probably came in a week or two ago.”

The man nodded, wispy gray hair floating around his face. “Yes, yes. I remember it. A man came in and pawned that card. Then he came back a few days later and paid me the money back.” His face scrunched. “It was an odd thing, that. Another man came in a few days later with what looked like the same card. He said he bought it off another guy. But it was a fake.”

Tessa’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? How could you tell?”

He shrugged but puffed up self-importantly. “I’ve been doing this for a while, young lady. The ink on the second card wasn’t right. Some of it even came off on my fingers.”

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. It was quite obvious to me, but I had to prove it to the second man. He made me pull up a website on his newfangled phone and show him what it was supposed to look like.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve never seen someone so angry before. Why, he swore up a blue streak, and I had to ask him to leave.”

“What did this second guy look like?”

He pursed his lips as though thinking hard. “Well, let’s see. He had on shorts and a gym-rat shirt. Fancy hair. Stupid looking shoes.”

Ricardo. He had to mean Ricardo with his casino-typical outfit of a casino tank top and flip flops. Along with his fluffy toupee, the description matched him to a tee.

That was it. Chet must have double-crossed Ricardo, selling him a fake baseball card and refusing to give back the money.

“Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate your time.”

“No problem.” He smiled. “Are you in the market for something nice for yourself? Maybe a fancy gold bracelet?” He pointed to a gaudy number with costume jewels on it.

“Oh, my. That’s lovely,” Tessa lied. “I’ll have to pass. I’ve just started a new job, and I’m still catching up on bills. I’ll keep it in mind for when I have some extra cash, though.”

She didn’t bite her lip, but she rambled. Another tell. She was making a list.

She left, planning to go back to the casino to confront Ricardo, but then her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and checked it. A text from her mother: Check your email. You have a new assignment.

Tessa clicked over to her email account and found the new message. She opened it, and her mouth fell open.

Her new target was Ricardo Vidale.

Chapter 18

THE ASSIGNMENT WAS at the same golf club as her first—the same one her dad had frequented when he was alive. Tessa re-read the details three times before realizing it was going to happen at the golf tournament the casino was sponsoring. The one Melinda had mentioned the day before.

She glanced at the sky hopefully, but there was no way lightning would strike twice. Not on the same green in such short order.

Could it?

She scanned the document again and blinked after reading the cause of death.

Well, that’s interesting.

Tessa gave herself plenty of time that morning to get there. But she breathed a sigh of relief when Linda started anyway.

“You’ve been so great lately,” she gushed. “I’m definitely going to use some of my next paycheck to get you a tune-up. Especially if you get me to this assignment on time.”

As she drove to the golf course, Tessa’s mind raced. Ricardo must have been furious about Chet selling him a fake baseball card. It must’ve been worth a lot of money. Enough to kill over.

But why Horner? Tessa thought maybe he was getting close to fingering Ricardo for the crime. She knew criminals often worked in irrational and erratic ways. It troubled her how she’d drank a beer Ricardo bought her. She couldn’t help but think their conversation might’ve led him down the path of harming Horner. She’d mentioned Melinda Chino. Did I mention her goons too? She shuddered. Ricardo could’ve poisoned her if she’d walked away from her drink for a moment.

And now it was her job to escort him to the other side.

Strange how, after everything that had happened over the past week, Ricardo would be taken out by a freak accident. Maybe there was such a thing as karma. She made a mental note to ask her mother or Gloria about that.

Wearing a blue polo and mid-thigh khaki shorts, Tessa managed to blend in with the crowd at the golf course. She snuck through the club onto the green again.

The area closest to the building was bustling. Tents were set up with tables under them, and the casino’s logo was plastered on everything. There was a makeshift covered stage with a DJ, and golf carts came and went through the crowd.

Tessa threaded her way through the gaggle of golfers looking for Ricardo, but she couldn’t spot him. Despite her timeliness, she started feeling nervous, like she might lose another soul. Ricardo’s soul . . . oi. There was just no way she could let that happen. Cheryl would absolutely never, ever stop lecturing if she did.

She hurried onto the green, passing a shiny red car perched at the top of the hill. It was covered in magnetic signs proclaiming it to be the grand prize for the hole in one contest.

She scanned the valley below, one hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun’s interfering glare. There were golfers spread out over the area, in pairs and foursomes, and she couldn’t tell one from the other at that distance. She started down the hill.

It was really only chance that set her on the right path. At least, that’s what it seemed like. Later, Tessa would wonder if it was part of her reaper powers—maybe some kind of radar. Whatever it was, when she crested a hill, she caught sight of Ricardo near a creek. The water hazard wound around the edge of the golf course. Next to a copse of trees.

Ricardo wasn’t alone. Tessa recognized Maddox’s man bun. As she approached, she could hear them talking. She slowed and crouched as low as possible, darting behind the men’s golf carts to listen in.

Ricardo’s face was red, as though he’d been walking the green in the sun. But when he spoke, it was clear the extra coloring was from anger. “I can’t be part of it anymore,” he said. “It was one thing when Chet was here. We worked together and it took the pressure off. But now he’s gone, thanks to you.”

“What are you saying?” Maddox asked.

“You know what I’m saying—I’m saying I’m out.”

Tessa was shocked. Had the two men been working together all along? And what part did Chet Sanborn play?

“Chet shouldn’t have crossed me,” Maddox snarled. The expression looked strange on his usually placid face. “He should’ve given me the money I asked for—not try to play me with that false card.”

“What choice did he have?” Ricardo asked. “When you make a deal, it’s set in stone. You can’t keep changing the terms like you do. Chet needed that money to get the real card back.”

“They were my terms to change. He was still making enough on that deal and you know it.”

Ricardo wavered, conceding defeat. “Fair enough.”

“You aren’t going to make the same mistake Chet did, are you?”

“I’m not.” Ricardo paled a bit and took a step back. “But I want to know one thing—what did Horner do to set you off?”

Maddox’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “He figured out I offed Chet. He was going to tell Melinda. And she would’ve called the police for sure.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t connected the dots.”

His face twisted in derision. “They won’t. All trails lead to Melinda Chino. She doesn’t have the spine for this kind of business. She wants the profit but doesn’t want to do what’s necessary. If I hadn’t gotten rid of Chet, he’d have kept finding ways to cheat the casino.”

“So, she doesn’t know what you did? To Chet or Horner?” Ricardo’s voice wasn’t as strong as before.

Maddox spat on the ground. “She doesn’t have a clue. She just knows the money is safe. I’m the brains and the brawn of our partnership.”

“And what am I? The fall guy?” Ricardo shook his head. “You can’t blackmail me anymore. If I get caught—if the cops catch me cheating, I’ll go to jail, and you won’t say a word to help me out.”

“That’s the risk you take.”

“Chet and I did it for the money, but it’s too hot now. It’s not worth it anymore. I’m out.” He started to walk away from Maddox. “I’m going to get a burger in the club. Then I’m going home. You won’t see me at the casino anymore. Get yourself a new blackjack plant.”

Maddox rushed toward the golf cart, pulling out a club. “Eating animal flesh is disgusting,” he said, raising the club over his head.

Tessa straightened to her full height and crossed her arms.

Seeing her appear seemingly out of nowhere, Maddox faltered. “What are you doing here?”

“Get out of here, Ricardo,” Tessa said, jerking her head toward the club building. “Go call the police.”

Ricardo didn’t move.

“Did you hear all that?” Maddox asked, staring hard at Tessa.

“I did.” Tessa kept her gaze on Maddox even as she saw movement over his shoulder. Something was coming from the top of the hill. “I heard everything. You’re a murderer. A vegan, Birkenstock-wearing, man-bun sporting murderer, which is weird, but still.”

Maddox raised the club again. He rushed toward Tessa. She waited as long as possible. Then, she leaped to the side, yanking Ricardo with her by the arm.

She didn’t know if someone had left the shiny red car in neutral or if they just didn’t set the emergency brake when they parked the car at an angle at the top of the hill. Either way, it gained speed as it careened down the hill and smashed into Maddox, carrying his body with it until it landed nose-first in the water hazard.

Ricardo shouted. He ran up the hill, arms pumping wildly. He only made it halfway before he collapsed, panting and wailing about how sorry he was. How he’d never do anything illegal again if the angry spirits would just let him live. His toupee lurched to the side, so it drooped low over his right ear.

Maddox’s spirit rose out of the creek and stared in disbelief at the tangled pile of metal. He jerked his head toward Tessa, a question on his face. “Did you just kill me?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I facilitated an exchange. A soul for a soul.” She shrugged. “Sometimes, the universe just gets it wrong.”

And sometimes a grim reaper has to take matters into her own hands.

Tessa flicked her wrist, watching as a beam of light shot down from the sky. “Time to go, Maddox.”

For the first time, he looked uneasy. He peered into the light. “Wh . . . where am I going?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s not my department.”

Chapter 19

SILAS HANDED HER THE keys to Linda with an adorable wink and a dimple-revealing grin. “She’s as good as new.”

Tessa raised one eyebrow in suspicion. “New? Really?”

He chuckled. “Okay, she’s as good as a thirty-year-old car can be.”

She nodded once. “Perfect. That’s just how I like her. Thanks for the tune-up. I know you don’t have a lot of extra time to be doing work for free.”

“It’s no sweat.” Silas brushed his brow with a forearm, proving it did cost a bit of sweat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at his feet. “And you’re right about the time. It’s crazy around this place. But I fit things in when it’s important to me.”

“Linda’s important to you?”

He smiled. “I just don’t want this bucket of rust leaving you on the side of the road.”

That brought up the memory of Frank leaving her on the side of the highway one night. She’d never shake the long, dusty walk home.

What a jerk.

“Thanks. I don’t want that either.” She opened Linda’s driver’s side door and gasped in surprise. “It doesn’t squeak anymore!”

“The magic of grease. I changed out a couple of rusty bolts for you too. And a headlight.”

“I must owe you more money.” She’d insisted that Silas let her at least buy the parts, even though the service was free.

“Nah.” He shook his head. “I didn’t use enough WD-40 to cost you anything.”

“I could really pay you with my next paycheck.” She got in the car and fired it up. It sounded great. Better than great. “She sounds like a new girl.”

The dimples popped from his cheek.

“Thanks again!” Tessa reached for the gear shifter to put Linda in reverse but a knock on the window stopped her. She rolled down the window and gave Silas a questioning look.

“One more thing,” Silas said.

“So, I do owe you money, don’t I!”

He shook his head, still smiling. “I occasionally take a few minutes out to eat dinner. Would you maybe want to go with me sometime?” He kicked at the asphalt. “You know, when you have time. Your new job seems to have odd hours.”

Tessa’s pulse raced. She took a breath in an attempt to get it to settle down. “I think I’d like that, but . . .”

“But?”

“I’m paying,” she said proudly. “It’s the least I could do.” She knew that was true, but she’d have to work it out with her bank account.

“Sounds good.” He grinned widely, nodded, and headed for the building.

Tessa rolled up the window and gave a little squeal. Then she thought about how dating and then breaking up with Frank had cost her a job. Maybe dating her landlord would risk her apartment? At the very least, she’d have to see him every day. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

But those thoughts only took a minute to fade away. She didn’t care. He was cute, and he wanted to take her out. It was time she enjoyed herself. After all, what would her dad think?

She sang all the way to the agency. It felt like her feet never touched the ground as she danced inside. She went directly to her mother’s office.

Cheryl glanced up from the computer and then raised her eyebrows. “Why so cheerful? Did the order for my demise come in?”

“Mom!”

Cheryl smirked at her grim joke.

Tessa shrugged and leaned on the door frame. “I don’t know. It’s a nice day.”

“Well, don’t get too excited. You have two assignments today. If you manage to get to them both on time—and not lose any souls—you can call it a nice day.” She went back to tapping on the keyboard.

Tessa entered the office, closing the door behind her. That earned her another questioning glance from her mother.

Tessa sat across the desk from her. “How often does it happen?”

“How often does what happen?” Cheryl’s fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“You know—someone taking another person’s place.”

Cheryl sighed and put her hands in her lap. She eyed the door. “Not often. It’s been known to happen by accident on occasion, but usually, it’s a decision made by the reaper on duty.”

“And it’s allowed?”

“It causes a lot of red tape. What you did yesterday will wind up being years of paperwork. That’s my job.”

“So, I shouldn’t have done it?”

A small smile flitted over Cheryl’s lips, but it disappeared as fast as it came. “I didn’t say that,” she said softly. “But Ricardo may wish you’d done something else. He’s probably going to spend a lot of time in jail.”

“Melinda was hopping mad. I’m sure she’ll press charges.” The casino boss had been in the golf club when everything went down. Everything was madness. An ambulance, fire trucks, and police officers had descended on the country club in short order.

When Tessa got back from escorting Maddox across the veil, she’d made sure Ricardo came clean on the whole thing with a threat of taking him next.

Both women chuckled.

“So, I get to keep my job?” Tessa tipped her head and studied her mother’s features.

“For now.” Cheryl nodded. “In fact, you’ve earned yourself a spot at the annual conference in Florida. You and Gloria can go together and share a hotel room.”

“Wait. There’s a reaper conference once a year? In Florida?”

“There is. And it’s not always in Florida. It’s usually somewhere tropical. Or Vegas.” Cheryl shuddered. “I’m not going to be able to get away for it this year. So, you and Gloria will represent our office.”

For some reason, the idea of a bunch of reapers sitting in a conference room watching PowerPoint slideshows made Tessa want to belly laugh. But the idea of an all-expenses-paid getaway was a welcome one.

“The company pays for this?” Tessa asked.

“We do.” Cheryl paused and squinted at Tessa. “And I’ll expect you both to behave and comport yourselves with dignity.” Her tone held a note of warning that Tessa was quite familiar with. She’d heard it every time she went out with her friends as a teenager.

“I’ll try.” She got up to leave and turned at the door. “I can’t speak for Gloria, though. She seems a little wild.” Tessa winked.

“Theresa.” Cheryl’s voice was soft and gentle. “One more thing.”

Tessa froze. Another one more thing. And this one didn’t sound as good as Silas’s offer. Something was strange about her mother’s tone of voice. Tessa didn’t dare make eye contact. Not even to correct her use of the long form of her name.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Cheryl said. “I knew what he was going to do that day. He didn’t say it outright, but I knew. And I didn’t stop him. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Mom, it’s—"

“I should have stopped him.” Cheryl’s voice broke. “But . . . but I didn’t want to lose either of you. I wish I had my own Maddox.”

Tessa turned around slowly, seeing tears skid down her mother’s cheeks.

“Actually, I do know what I should have done. I shouldn’t have let him take your place. I should have done it. And I regret every day that I didn’t.” She wiped her cheek, chin quivering.

Feeling a wave of empathy, Tessa rushed forward. She knelt in front of Cheryl and squeezed her hand. “No, don’t say that, Mom. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Cheryl met Tessa’s gaze and smiled. Something released inside Tessa. She realized she’d been angry with her mother. Mad that she hadn’t somehow found a way to save Michael Randolph. But as she held her mom’s hand, she felt a wave of forgiveness. It wasn’t Cheryl’s fault.

With one last squeeze, Tessa stood. “I’d better go. I don’t want to be late for my assignment."

“Definitely not.” Cheryl hiccupped.

“Yeah. My boss is a real dragon lady.” She winked and left the office, her mother’s laugh following her out.

When Tessa got outside, she lowered the sunglasses from the top of her head to her face and turned toward the sun, feeling happy. It was almost the best season in Mist River, Michigan. Summer. She had a date with a cutie landlord. Her junker car was running great. And she had a new job she was good at. And not just a job that anyone could do, but a real career.

She smiled widely and looked to the sky, sending her dad a silent thank you. She was sure he had something to do with helping her life get straightened out.

She laughed at the irony as she headed toward Linda.

Who knew being a grim reaper would be her calling?

Book 2: The Scythe’s Secrets: Chapter 1

“BUT I’M SCARED OF HEIGHTS.” Tessa scowled to hide the horrified expression trying to jump onto her face. “You’re my mother. You should know that. I can’t even ride the Ferris wheel without getting dizzy.”

“I thought you grew out of that,” Cheryl said.

“No. I grew out of going to amusement parks. Can’t you give this assignment to someone else?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s part of your job. I can’t keep track of what the agents like and don’t like. We can’t cherry-pick our jobs.” Cheryl glanced up from the computer and the corners of her mouth twitched upward. She had gained immunity to her daughter’s unhappy expressions decades earlier. In fact, the grumpier Tessa got and the deeper she scowled, the more amused Cheryl became. “Mr. Hanson is scheduled to die of natural causes today, and you’re his reaper. He dies. You escort his soul to the afterlife. That’s that.”

Tessa flopped into the chair across from Cheryl with a huff and wondered about her career choice. It was bad enough to have a mother who erred quite forcefully on the critical side of the fence. But having her also be your boss was a flavor of crazy most people would know to avoid. “Why can’t I just reap him when he gets to the ground?”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “He isn’t going to die on the ground. He’s going to die about halfway down.” She considered. “Or up, depending on how you look at it.”

“I’d rather be looking up.”

Cheryl tapped at her keyboard and read something on the screen. “Yes. His heart will give out. Which isn’t terribly surprising—it is his ninetieth birthday.”

“Today?” Tessa squeaked. “He’s going to die on his birthday?”

“It’s not as uncommon as you’d think. And what a way to go—his file says he started skydiving every year on his birthday when he turned sixty.” She waved a hand. “But he goes a lot more than that, of course. He’s a certified instructor. So, just show up for the time slot I booked for you to dive with him.” Cheryl got to her feet. “There’s really no choice here. You have to be there when it happens, which is going to be while he’s in the air.”

“But—”

“No buts! What if the poor man’s soul gets trapped in his body as it floats to the ground? That would be awful.”

“But—”

“Theresa. What if he gets stuck midair? His spirit could leave the body and take off in the wind while you’re standing there twiddling your thumbs. You don’t want to lose another soul, do you?”

Tessa bit back a curse and shook her head grudgingly. “No. Once is enough.”

Cheryl touched her perfect inverted bob in several spots as though to be sure no strands had suddenly wrestled free from their bonds of mega-super-strength hair spray. “Don’t worry. There’s no order in the system for a reaper for you. Apparently, your parachute will bring you safely to the ground.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“You may like skydiving.” Cheryl’s lips twitched with barely contained mirth. “Ooh, maybe you’ll start going once a year on your birthday too. You could completely lose your fear of heights today, Theresa. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It would be nice if you remembered I like to be called Tessa. And you’re right. Maybe I’ll love skydiving. I hope I do. They’ll be looking for a new instructor at this skydiving place after today, right? I’m going to think of this as a job interview. There’s no way the boss could be worse than the one I already have.”

Cheryl didn’t appear worried. She waved a hand and herded Tessa out of the office. “Have fun, dear. Don’t be late to the death.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tessa rolled her eyes as she headed out of the office and into the bright sunlight of the parking lot.

Briefly, she glanced over her shoulder at the run-down building—her current workplace. It was disguised as a dilapidated life insurance office in an attempt to keep most humans away from what was really a grim reaper agency.

In the few months since Tessa had started her new job, she’d gotten used to the routine. Get up, check for assignments on the reaper app on her phone, reap souls. The app gave Tessa a good chuckle every time she saw the icon. It, too, had a disguise, designed to look like a cycle tracker to keep any random person who picked up the phone from clicking on it.

If there were no assignments on the app, Tessa headed into the office and did paperwork or sat in Gloria’s office and chatted with her fellow reaper until Cheryl gave them both a death glare. It was an expression her mother had perfected having worked so many years as a grim reaper herself.

But it had turned out to be a pretty decent job overall. The pay was good. Tessa hadn’t had to worry about making rent since her first assignment. And she’d even been able to pay for her landlord, Silas, to make some much needed upgrades to Linda.

Tessa ran her hand over the car’s red hood. “How you doing, girl? Any aches or pains?”

Linda didn’t answer but she started right up when Tessa turned the key. Progress. Since Silas had started taking care of her, the car did that much more often than before.

The drive out to Mist River Skydiving School was about twenty minutes, which was more than enough time to get worked up about the idea of jumping out of a plane.

Worked up into a panic. It wasn’t like she was completely risk averse. She’d recently taken up mountain biking after coming across an almost new bike for a good price at a yard sale. And Tessa often dreamed about a SCUBA certificate. After all, she planned to retire to some tropical island far away from Michigan’s cold winters. Maybe she could get a head start on those plans later this week while attending the reaper convention in Florida.

But skydiving? That was never on her list. It, along with wearing thong bikinis and eating anything made with ghost peppers, was something Tessa thought she’d never do. But it was just like this job to prove her wrong. She could only hope that reaping and thongs would stay far apart.

As Tessa pulled into the flight school’s dusty parking lot, she regretted the greasy bacon and eggs she’d had for breakfast, which rolled around like her stomach was an old-style butter churn.

She pulled a cross-body purse over her head, closed the car door, and forced reluctant feet to move toward the school. It was a huge, bright red, steel-sided building divided in half, one part an open hanger bay containing a small plane and the other an office space. When she entered the office side, a box above the door played a cheerful, tinny little tune.

Tessa scanned the lobby, which sported hard plastic chairs and framed pictures of smiling people wearing flight suits and looking relieved to be alive.

She thought of Mr. Hanson and how this would be his last jump. A tiny lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it away. He was ninety and would go doing something he loved.

Plus, he’d have his own personal reaper right there, ready to show him the way to the other side, where, presumably, the next phase of his soul’s journey awaited.

“Morning, you! You’re right on time.”

Tessa spun at the sound of the male voice and found a nice-looking thirty-something guy with dark hair smiling at her. She drew her hand up and waved with her fingers shyly. “Hi.”

The man stuck out his hand. “Bryce Hanson.”

“I’m, um, Tessa Randolph.”

He squeezed it gently and smiled bigger. “Welcome, Um Tessa Randolph.”

“Just Tessa.”

“Okay, Just Tessa.”

Tessa chuckled, then her forehead scrunched. “Mr. Hanson? Are you . . . my instructor?” If this guy was celebrating his ninetieth birthday, Tessa wanted to know his secret for maintaining youth before she let him go into the great beyond.

Bryce chuckled. “My grandpa and I are, yeah.”

Ah. “So, this is a family business?”

“It is now.” Bryce nodded. “Grandpa came here for the first time when he turned sixty. It was love at first jump, and he eventually became an instructor and helped me learn. I bought the place five years ago, with Grandpa co-signing.” He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels, chest puffing. “It’s been a great run.”

“Wow. Well, congratulations. It’s great to do something you love.”

He nodded and then gestured toward a second room. “Let’s get started. You’re our only jumper today. There’s a couple videos to watch and a few other bits of training to do, and then you can get your AFF on.”

“My what?”

“Accelerated Free Fall. It’s the type of skydiving we do here.”

Tessa swallowed hard. “Accelerated? Does that mean it’s faster than regular skydiving?” She forced herself to follow Bryce out of the lobby and into a small conference room.

“Not faster. You ever heard of terminal velocity?”

“I’ve heard of it,” she said. “But I’ve never felt it.”

“Nervous?” Bryce fiddled with a computer, and a projection screen on the wall lit up.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Well, don’t be. Grandpa and I know what we’re doing. And AFF is the best way to experience the exhilaration of a real free fall.” He winked. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“Sure, it is.” She wasn’t convinced. She may not die during the flight, but she could absolutely squeal like a ninny and embarrass herself. Not that the elder Mr. Hanson would be able to tell anyone.

But the video was interesting, and by the time it was over, Tessa felt a little more at ease.

Bryce led her into the hanger where a man who looked like an older version of him, only with white hair, stood eating a sandwich. “This is my grandfather, Bryce Hanson.”

“But—”

“I know.” Bryce nodded. “I’m a third. I used to go by Trey. But these days, I’m Bryce and this is Instructor Hanson.”

The elderly man wiped a hand on his pants and shook Tessa’s. “It’s a great day for a first-time jumper,” he said. His voice was gravely, like you’d expect of a nonagenarian but otherwise, he looked hale and healthy. Hard to believe his ticker was on its last few beats.

He gestured to a platter with more food. “Hungry for lunch?”

“I’ll pass.” Tessa didn’t relish the thought of having a full stomach when she did her jump. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

His bushy eyebrows rose. “How’d you know it’s my birthday?”

Oops. “Your grandson told me.”

The younger Bryce had crossed the room to talk to a woman wearing a neat uniform with black epaulettes on her shoulders, who Tessa figured was their pilot, so he didn’t hear the lie.

“Ah. Well, thank you. But, at my age, every day’s a happy day to be alive. Has to be. You never know when you’ll be done with this world.” He popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and gestured for Tessa to follow him to a wall lined with hanging flight suits and other equipment. “Let’s get you fitted.”

The next hour passed quickly as Bryce and the elder Instructor Hanson helped Tessa get fitted and showed her how to use the parachute, even taking her outside onto a big grassy lawn to practice.

The two men had an easy relationship. It was obvious they were fond of each other. When Bryce ran inside to get something, she said as much to his grandfather. “I wish my mom and I got along like the two of you do,” she added.

The older man studied her for a moment, pursing his lips. Then he smiled, revealing a cracked tooth in front. “Ya know, that’s the thing about life. It’s easy to spend a lot of time thinking about how imperfect things are. How you’d like it to be different. A person can literally while away years doin’ that. If you want something to change, Miss Randolph, you have to force it to. Be the daughter you want to be and let the rest fall into place.”

The moment felt profound—like Instructor Hanson was imparting his last words of wisdom onto Tessa. Like he was instructing her in more than skydiving. She felt a little guilty—it should’ve been the man’s grandson who got to hear that, not her.

Bryce jogged over to them. “All set?”

“Yes, sir! Let’s get in the air.” Tessa took the older man’s elbow as he led toward the hangar. “Fifteen minutes from now, you’ll be on the ground again. I always have a beer to celebrate a good landing. Maybe you and my grandson will join me.” He winked.

“Maybe.” She gave him a bright smile and let him lead her to the plane.

The Hansons helped keep Tessa upright and oriented during the free fall part of the jump. She was shocked to find it exhilarating, fun, and only slightly terrifying.

Bryce peeled away first, signaling it was time to release her chute. Tessa held onto Instructor Hanson a moment longer. She held his gaze, waiting for the moment his heart would stop. And when it did, Tessa reached out with her other hand, signaling for the portal to the other side.

His face relaxed and his mouth turned upward as a bright white light spread out below their feet.

It felt like time stopped for a moment as she watched him move forward into the light, pausing to give her a jaunty wave. Then, the light was gone, and she was falling fast. Quickly, she reached to pull her chute. She held her breath, and it opened.

Mr. Hanson’s automatic reserve chute opened a few seconds later, and his body floated gently down a distance beside her.

Tessa drew in a breath and braced for dual impact of the hard ground and Bryce’s inevitable heartbreak.

Chapter 2

TESSA STAYED WITH BRYCE until the ambulance had come and gone with his grandfather’s body and some other Hanson family members showed up. That wasn’t part of her job description, but it was the right thing to do.

Once she was satisfied the young man was supported by his parents and cousins, Tessa slipped away. She drove Linda to the Mist River Manor apartments with a heavy heart, reminding herself that the elder Bryce Hanson was ninety years old and seemed happy to go over to the unknown.

That was what got Tessa through the grim business of reaping. When it came time, most of her clients were ready. Then there was Chet Sanborn, the soul who’d given her so much trouble, eluding her for days until Tessa caught his killer—almost meeting her own end in the process.

She shuddered at the thought. Hopefully, nothing like that ever happened again.

The apartment lobby was deserted. Tessa checked her mailbox and immediately rolled her eyes, tossing the flyer for a local cable company into a nearby recycling bin. She split WiFi with a friend in the building and used a streaming service. Didn’t everybody? Cable is dead. Only, it didn’t seem to realize yet that yet.

When she turned to head for her apartment, the lobby wasn’t empty anymore. Silas St. Onge, the building’s superintendent and maintenance guy extraordinaire—also the mechanical magician who kept Linda purring—stood gaping like a caught fish. As usual, a chunk of sandy blond hair flopped over one of his eyes.

Usually, Silas was pretty cool and collected. But now, he appeared to be struggling. Shocked about something, maybe? Tessa couldn’t help herself. Curiousness overcame her, and she walked up to him, tipping her head. “Everything okay?”

He blinked a few times as though having trouble focusing on her and then, suddenly, a wide smile broke across his face. To Tessa’s delight, it was big enough to reveal the adorable dimple in his right cheek.

“I can’t believe it.” He held out his arm. “Can you pinch me? Make sure I’m not dreaming.”

Her gaze dropped to his muscular arm and the bicep that strained the short sleeve. She pursed her lips and gave it a light pinch then shrugged. “You seem real enough to me. I think you’re awake. I’m awake. And I have been since way too early this morning.”

“You think eight am is way too early,” he said.

“Because it is,” Tessa countered. “So, what’s up? Why do you think you’re dreaming?”

He shook his head and dropped the arm again. “Mrs. Cross just gave me five thousand dollars.” His tone was hushed, matching the awed expression on his face perfectly. “She just gave it to me. No strings attached.”

“Wow! That’s nice of her.” Tessa couldn’t help but gasp. She totally understood Silas’s conundrum. That was a shock.

Mrs. Cross lived a few doors down from Tessa. She was an elderly woman who always had her nose just a bit too far into the other residents’ business, but she was sweet and mostly harmless. But sweet enough to give someone five thousand dollars?

“Yeah, she gave me half of what she won because I get her groceries for her. I picked out the winning scratch-off ticket. She said it was only fair. I tried to turn it down, but she insisted.” He ran a hand through his hair pushing back the floppy piece. “I have no idea what to do with it. Bank it for a rainy day, I guess.”

Tessa leaned an elbow on the lobby’s front counter. “That’s so boring.”

“You know me.” He shrugged and put his hands in his pocket.

He was right. She did know him. They’d become close over the past few months, ever since Tessa’s breakup with Frank and since starting her new job as a grim reaper. But Silas couldn’t know about that.

She considered for a minute, thinking about Silas and his hardworking attitude. He worked on his days off. He maintained Linda for next to nothing but a pat on the back. Tessa had always been a hard worker, but she’d never had Silas’s work ethic. She liked to put her feet up whenever possible. What would she do if a big sum of money fell into her lap? “I know! You should take a vacation.”

He grimaced like vacations were torture. “Why would I do that?”

Yep. She knew Silas, all right. She snorted. “To relax like a normal person for more than a minute and a half? I mean, I’m starting to think you’re a workaholic. If you aren’t fixing something around here are getting groceries for elderly residents, you’re working on Linda for just the cost of parts.”

Silas wasn’t convinced but his wince dissolved into a thoughtful expression.

“You deserve a break more than anybody I know,” she pressed.

He shrugged. “Lots of people work harder than I do.”

A sudden thought leaped into Tessa’s mind and before she’d slowed down to examine it, she blurted out, “You know I’m going to Florida in a couple days. It’s a work conference at the Salt Water Resort in Miami Beach. I don’t think all of the rooms are taken.”

That was weird, right? Why had she said that? Now her landlord was going to think she was imagining him in swim trunks lounging by the pool. Which she totally was, but it was super embarrassing to be caught thinking it.

Silas cocked his head with a come again type expression.

“I mean, you could go anywhere, really. I just mention it in case you want to have somebody you know around. You know, on your vacation. Someone there to have dinner or drinks or something with.” Tessa stammered to a halt and pressed her lips together to stem the tide of awkward rambling.

“You know, that does sound like fun. But I’m not sure what I’d do about this place.” He waved a hand vaguely at the ceiling, then sighed, considering.

“What?” Tessa questioned the sigh.

Silas shook his head. “It’s just my buddy Jason owes me a favor. A few favors. He could probably fill in for a few days or something. I’ll have to think about it.”

Pushing herself away from the desk, Tessa nodded. “Good. Well, do that. And congratulations on the windfall. I’d better run.” She headed toward the door leading to her apartment’s hallway.

“Bye.” Silas seemed distracted.

Maybe he was imagining Tessa in her swimsuit next to the pool in Florida? She groaned and clamped down on the thought. Silas was nice but he’d never really flirted with Tessa. Why would he be thinking that?

He wasn’t. He was probably thinking about the disarray the apartment would go in if he did leave. Or, maybe, he was considering the sun and relaxation—the thought of a cocktail or two. Yeah, that was it, for sure.

Feeling a little better, Tessa let herself into the tiny apartment she kept clean and tidy, mostly because she didn’t have too much stuff. Her new job was rapidly helping her get square on past-due bills and things but there wasn’t much left over to indulge in her desire to buy a dozen brand-name purses yet.

Her small tortie, Pepper, rubbed on Tessa’s leg, purring louder than such a tiny little thing should be able to.

“Hey, cutie. It’s good to see you too. Are you hungry?”

The cat sat on her haunches and yowled mournfully.

“Oh, I see. You’re actually about to starve to death, huh?”

Pepper inclined her chin in a motion that made her look haughty and meowed more softly.

“I did so feed you breakfast this morning. Don’t lie.” Tessa crossed to the kitchen and poured some kibble into the cat’s bowl. “There you go.”

Pepper didn’t move. She narrowed her eyes and coughed.

Tessa mimicked the cat’s expression. “Don’t you threaten me with a hairball, missy. You don’t need canned food right now. Eat the kibble—it’s good for your teeth.”

Pepper raised her nose and stalked away, down the short hall to Tessa’s bedroom.

“You behave!” Tessa hurried after the cat and found her curled at the foot of the bed. “Good girl.”

Later, Tessa pulled a rolling suitcase out of the closet, and the tortie lifted her head. “Yes, I’m going on a trip. You’ll be fine. Abi is going to feed you and clean your box while I’m gone.”

A rumbling purr erupted from the feline’s throat.

“You like Abi, remember? Plus, it’ll give you plenty of alone time. I know how much I annoy you.” Tessa grinned and shook her head. She patted Pepper’s rump and set to work gathering the clothes she’d need for a few days at the conference.

And as she packed her swimsuit, she hardly thought about Silas with his shirt off at all.

Chapter 3

THERE WAS AN UNFAMILIAR car in the lot at work the next morning. Tessa wondered if someone was in there trying to buy life insurance. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it was a rare occurrence. There was a protocol—forms and brochures. Real ones that paid real money upon death. All part of the guise.

But in the lobby, a man and woman stood talking to Cheryl.

Nope. Not random laypeople.

It was clear the two strangers in the lobby were related to the reaper business. For one, they were talking to Cheryl, who would never come out of her office to intercept a wayward insurance buyer. For two, the woman gave off a certain air. It couldn’t really be called an aura. It was more like a vibe. Whatever it was, Tessa had learned to identify other reapers by it since she’d gotten her own powers.

The woman looked to be around Cheryl’s age—late fifties or early sixties. She wore a light gray pantsuit that almost exactly matched the color of her straight, bluntly cut, shoulder-length hair.

“Ah, there she is. Our new reaper.” Cheryl gestured for Tessa to join them. “My daughter, Theresa Randolph. This is April Henderson.”

“Tessa,” she corrected, giving April’s hand a firm shake.

“Pleasure,” April said. “It’s always nice to keep things in the family. I just never had time to start one of those.”

“April’s the district supervisor for the eastern United States and Canada,” Cheryl added.

“Oh.” Tessa was caught off-guard. She knew her mother had bosses, but she never expected to meet them. At least, not here in the shabby office. At the convention, there were sure to be loads of other reapers.

And speaking of, Tessa’s eyes flitted to the man next to and slightly behind the supervisor. Only, now that they were in closer proximity, she noted that he didn’t exude the same vibe, not that of another reaper. Still, she waited for an introduction to him too.

April’s gaze followed Tessa’s, and she appeared a little surprised to find the twenty-something man standing there. Whether she just didn’t understand social cues or was intentionally rude wasn’t clear, but the woman didn’t bother to introduce him. She gave Tessa a curt smile, then turned to address Cheryl. “I have something important to discuss with you. Let’s use your office.” She cast a cool gaze at her male companion. “You, stay put.”

Tessa felt her eyebrows climb at the rudeness.

After the office door clicked shut behind the two women, Tessa smiled at the abandoned man.

He gave her an awkward little wave. “I’m Timothy. April’s assistant.”

“Hi, Timothy. Nice to meet you.”

He was tall and lanky, with nondescript features and an ill-fitting blue suit. He wore glasses. And for some reason, Tessa couldn’t help but think of an accountant when she looked at him.

She crossed the room to examine the Danishes on display on the small coffee cart there. It was not a typical day in the office. Cheryl must’ve brought these in for the guests. And she could tell they were from her favorite shop, just down the road from her childhood home—the house Cheryl still occupied alone.

Score!

“What brings you two to Mist River?” Tessa asked as Timothy trailed along behind her.

“Oh, you know, it’s just routine mainly. April likes to visit each of her branch offices once a quarter. She has a standing competition with the western district supervisor, Lee, about who can get to all their branches most often.”

He grabbed a cinnamon roll and took a big bite. A dollop of cream cheese frosting dove onto his jacket lapel like a fighter jet doing a dive maneuver. It crashed into a horrible blob. Timothy frowned and dabbed at the sticky mess with a napkin, making it much worse.  “I don’t think we’ll be here for long.”

“No?”

Giving up on the spot, he tossed the napkin in a trash can and then leaned close to Tessa. “Lee’s visited one more office than April, and she wants to catch up before they see each other at the conference.”

Tessa chose a simple glazed donut. Her favorite. And a lot less likely to end up with a mess on her outfit. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Raised voices floated through Cheryl’s door. Tessa jerked her chin that direction. “Getting the most visits in is one thing. But do you know what’s going on in there?”

Timothy, having finished off the cinnamon roll, got himself a cup of coffee too. “I do. But I shouldn’t say anything.”

And for a moment, it seemed as if he was going to stick to that. He eyed Tessa warily, then he glanced toward the office door and lowered his voice. “Okay. But you didn’t hear it from me. There’s a discrepancy in the numbers. Not enough souls have been taken this month, despite the number of allotments sent to each agency.” He squared his shoulders, thin chest puffing like a rooster. “It’s my job to keep the books for the whole eastern district.”

Tessa tried to look appropriately concerned but her mind raced. Did this have something to do with her? She’d had an . . . eventful first week on the job. But, no, the number of souls she’d reaped had been right on. The spirits’ identities were what had been off a bit.

Timothy must have noticed her uneasy expression because he waved a hand. “Oh, there’s nothing to worry about. We think we’ve pinpointed the agency involved, and it’s not Mist River. It’s the place we’re headed to next. The last stop before the conference.”

Tessa opened her mouth to ask him which office that was but shut it again when Cheryl’s office door opened. April emerged, heading straight for the front door. “Come on, Timothy,” she ordered without even sparing a glance for her assistant.

With an apologetic smile, a quick look down at the stain on his lapel, and another awkward wave, Timothy followed his boss outside.

Cheryl stood, arms crossed, gazing out at the parking lot. Tessa went to stand beside her mother. She finished her donut.

“So, your boss is . . . interesting,” Tessa ventured.

A grunt was the only response, along with a deepening frown.

“Did she give you a hard time or something?”

Finally, Cheryl stirred, leveling a calm stare at Tessa. “Are you packed for the conference?”

It took a minute for Tessa to switch gears. Obviously, her mother didn’t want to talk about the interaction with April.

“Uh,” Tessa focused on the question about her readiness for travel. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, a few days at a resort in Florida doesn’t take much in the way of clothes. I packed a couple swimsuits and a few business casual outfits.” She shrugged. “I should be good to go.”

“Didn’t you read the last email?” Cheryl asked.

“I, uh, I think so.”

“Well, are you dressing up for the theme days? I believe I have a Hawaiian shirt you can borrow. For the costume day, make sure it’s an appropriate length. And don’t try to be cute. There’s always one person who thinks it’s funny to go as a grim reaper.”

“Noted,” Tessa said. She had planned to skip the optional theme days.

“One last thing.” Cheryl’s eyes darted toward the parking lot. April and Timothy were gone. “Don’t forget this is a work trip, not a vacation. Keep your wits about you.” She made eye contact again. “Pay attention. You might learn something.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be sure to take notes and come back with extra reaper tricks up my robes.” Tessa laughed. “Get it? Up my robes? Like . . . reaper robes?”

“What did I just say about the costume day?” Cheryl rolled her eyes, went into her office, and shut the door without another word.

Tessa grinned, feeling like she’d won that round of good-natured sparring. But she couldn’t help but think her mom might have it even worse than she did in the mean old boss category. April seemed like a real treat.

Tessa pushed aside the thought and headed to her cramped office, already dreaming of sitting by the pool with her friend Gloria in Florida, skipping as many presentations as possible to sip daiquiris and soak up the sun.

Not a vacation, my backside.

Chapter 4

“I HATE LAYOVERS. DON’T you?” Tessa slumped into the uncomfortable airport chair. “So boring. I wish the agency would have sprung for a direct flight.” Cheryl had claimed it was agency policy to find the cheapest flights. But what kind of supernatural agency pinches pennies, really? Tessa was sure the policy was her mother’s and her mother’s alone.

She checked her watch. “I mean, it would’ve been nice to explore Chicago or something but there’s not enough time. This layover is just long enough to be annoying but not long enough to be any fun.”

Gloria’s perfect mauve-covered lips twitched upward. “I know it’s not technically a vacation. But I don’t care if there’s a layover—I’m just glad to be out of the office.” Her grin got wider. “I’m content sitting here thinking about how Cheryl’s probably going to have to fill in on a job or two while we’re gone. There’s bound to be enough business that Jake and Cathy can’t handle it alone. How long do you think it’s been since your mom reaped someone?”

Tessa shook her head. It was something she hadn’t given much thought to. This used to be her mother’s full-time job. She shuddered at the thought of her mother escorting someone to the other side. Or would ushering be a better word? Cheryl was so uptight and schedule-oriented—she’d probably clap her hands and say, “Chop-chop!”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I guess you’re right. Any time out of this office is like a vacation, huh?”

“How about we spice it up?” Gloria stood, grabbed her suitcase’s handle, and started walking across the terminal.

“Okay...” Tessa hurried to grab her own luggage—they’d both just brought carry-on-sized bags to avoid the possibility of a lost suitcase putting a serious damper on their trip—and power-walked after her co-worker. “Where are we going?’

Over her shoulder, Gloria said, “The bar, of course. There are Tiki drinks with our names on them.”

Tessa had never been big on drinking on airplanes. She liked to be clear-headed in case something went wrong and she needed to think fast. But she had to admit that having a drink during the layover sounded like more fun than passing the time in a hard, plastic chair staring at the runway.

Gloria paused in the doorway of an Irish pub and waited for Tessa to catch up. “I guess the Tiki will have to wait for Miami. It looks like everybody’s in here.”

“Everybody?”

“The other reapers from Chicago on north. Look.” She nodded toward the dimly lit bar.

Following her friend’s gaze, Tessa realized Gloria was right. Many of the folks sitting at the bar or gathered at round tables gave off reaper vibes.

Gloria made her way to a tall table near a window overlooking the concourse, where people bustled along in both directions, hurrying to make connecting flights. Tessa climbed into the chair and checked the laminated card advertising drink specials. When a waiter wearing a pilot’s hat with a shamrock affixed to the front came by, both reapers ordered cosmos.

Gloria leaned over the tiny table. “See that guy? That’s Art. He’s out of Minneapolis. Has a reputation for giving each of his clients’ last trips a bit of an artistic flare.”

“What does that mean?” Tessa studied the man Gloria had indicated. He stood at the bar holding a glass of Guinness and telling a story to several other reapers, who listened with rapt attention before bursting out into guffaws. Art had hawkish features, but they didn’t give him a predatory air. Instead, Tessa felt drawn to him.

Gloria laid her hands flat on the table. “Okay, so here’s an example. There was a guy Art was scheduled to reap who liked burlesque shows. So, Art dressed up as the guy’s favorite character—I don’t know who—I just know it involved a bright orange cape and a rhinestone-studded mask. Anyway, Ari wore the outfit when he showed up to cross the guy over. He was so over-the-moon he barely noticed he was dying.” Gloria chuckled.

And she laughed even louder at the look on Tessa’s face as she pictured Art in drag.

“Art likes to make a production of things. Oh, and that’s Shirley. I’m surprised she hasn’t retired yet. She’s been reaping since my grandmother was in grade school. She’s from British Columbia.”

The woman Gloria motioned toward was playing darts in the back corner with another reaper. Her black and silver hair was arranged in one heavy braid that reached her waist. She clapped as her dart made it into the bullseye. Then she celebrated with a chug of something in a martini glass.

Gloria’s eyes scanned the crowd as the waiter dropped off their drinks. “And that’s Bubba—he’s from Seattle. He’s a hoot at parties. I bet he’ll be the guy dancing on the pool deck at the hotel.”

Tessa wondered how she’d remember all these reapers’ names. Still, it was fun to hear the stories. Gloria seemed to know everyone.

“That’s Lydia and Cynthia. They always meet up at conferences and room together. Lydia’s from Detroit and Cynthia’s out of Chicago.” Gloria frowned a little, setting down her pink drink. “Hmm . . . Cynthia doesn’t look that good, does she?”

Tessa tried to check out the woman Gloria indicated without being obvious about it. Cynthia was slumped forward, elbows arranged on the table so her arms formed a protective circle around a margarita. Lydia had a hand on Cynthia’s arm and wore a sympathetic expression as she played with the straw in her own drink. Cynthia wiped at her eyes like she was tired.

“Chicago, huh? You know, there was a guy in our office back home yesterday. Timothy—he’s the assistant to the district supervisor.”

“April?” Gloria’s eyes went wide. “I’m glad I missed running into her.”

Tessa nodded. “She was pretty icy. But anyway, Timothy told me there was some problem at the Chicago reaper office. The numbers of souls reaped versus the orders put in aren’t adding up or something like that.”

“Huh. I wonder what’s going on. I’ll have to corner Cynthia at the hotel and get the scoop.”

“Do you think maybe it’s Cynthia’s fault?”

“No. Probably just some kind of accounting error. April likes to create waves where there should be smooth sailing. It’s her leadership style.” Gloria held up her glass to clink with Tessa’s. “Anyway, we’d better drink up. The plane will be boarding in ten minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, having consumed their cosmos way too fast, they were settling into their seats on the plane, having stowed their carry-ons in the overhead compartment. Gloria had asked for the aisle seat. “I feel too claustrophobic by the window.”

“Fine with me.” Tessa loved watching takeoff and landing out the window.

“It’s time to move this party to the beach,” Gloria said excitedly. “There will be even more reapers at the hotel bar. Plus, the hotel has a couple of nice restaurants. I’ll be ready for a nice juicy steak after we get settled in the room.”

Tessa was glad she was getting a chance to go to the conference and spend time with Gloria. The other reaper was fashionable and fun, and Tessa had really been enjoying getting to know her.

She opened her mouth to suggest they find some good Mexican instead. Cynthia’s margarita had looked good. But raised voices drew their attention toward the front of the plane.

Gloria leaned into the aisle.

“What’s going on?” Tessa felt a shiver of concern but quickly tamped down on it. The plane wasn’t in the air, so it wasn’t like a crash was imminent.

“I’m not sure.” Gloria craned her neck.

Murmurs made their way from the front of the plane back through the aisle like a ripple through water. Tessa heard the word dead.

Someone died? She tried to boost herself up to see over the seat in front of her, but the people there were also straining to see, blocking the view.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Art.” Gloria’s tone was hushed. “He’s dead. That’s strange. I didn’t see his soul. Did you?”

Tessa shook her head, scanning every inch of air for a portal to the other side.

Art. The reaper from Minnesota with a flare for the artistic? Tessa hadn’t even really met him, but she felt a pang of loss. He’d sounded like a nice guy. “I wonder who took him over,” she said. Of course, any humans on the plane wouldn’t have been able to see Art’s spirit leave his body or the reaper who would have opened a portal to the other side. But any of the reapers on the plane surely could have.

“How did we miss it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.” Gloria looked troubled, but she shook her head and the expression cleared. “But it isn’t like we can just shout up there and ask who crossed Art over. We’ll have to wait until we get to the conference and ask around.”

Tessa nodded. She settled back into the chair, aware that it would take longer for them to get airborne now. Art’s body would need to removed from the plane. “Do you think he had a heart attack or something?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Gloria didn’t look convinced.

As Tessa watched an ambulance squeal to a stop next to the plane and several EMTs race up the stairs, she wondered about the reaper who’d taken Art. Had he or she known about the assignment for a while? Like, while all the reapers were in the pub drinking and telling stories?

It was one thing to take the souls of strangers to the other side. Even that was sad sometimes. But how would it feel to take someone you knew? A friend or co-worker?

Tessa was pretty sure she didn’t want to find out.

Chapter 5

THEIR DECISION TO BRING only carry-ons proved to be a good one. As Tessa and Gloria passed the luggage claim area, it was clear it would have taken them a while to deal with it. As it was, there was a line of reapers and regular folk pushing and shoving to get close enough to grab their bags.

Tessa’s curiosity threatened to get the better of her. She wanted to talk to the reapers and see if she could find out more about Art’s death. But there were lots of non-reapers around. It wasn’t the right time or place.

Nor was it her job. But these days, Tessa found she often questioned the how, the why, and the timing of every death she heard or read about. Differentiating business from literal life and death was something easier said than done. She hoped there was a talk at the conference to cover such matters.

As they made their way to the rental car plaza, Gloria seemed unfazed. She chattered about what type of food to indulge in for their first night at the resort. Tessa’s mind was only half on the conversation. It kept drifting to Art and what had happened to him on the plane.

Had there been a reaper waiting to escort him over?

Tessa knew from her training that there were circumstances under which someone could die without an assignment having been put in for them at a reaper agency. It was rare, but with the fact that humans had free will, choices could be made in a split second that the universe didn’t seem to foresee. When it did happen, the soul wandered until a reaper could find it and properly escort it over.

She’d even heard whispers about a task force made up of specially trained reapers whose sole job it was to find such lost spirits. Of course, needing to call them in created a bunch of red tape for the agency. Meetings upon meetings. Retraining. Reprimands. This was why Cheryl had hesitated to do it when Tessa lost a soul, preferring to browbeat Tessa into finding him herself first.

Fingers snapping in front of her face drew Tessa out of the reverie. Gloria’s well-manicured eyebrows were up. “Earth to Tessa Randolph. Are you in there? I was asking whether you like sushi. I know it’s somewhat of an acquired taste. There’s a good place close to our hotel that I forgot about. Last year, some of the other reapers and I ate there four times. It’s that good.”

Tessa’s stomach growled at the thought. “Yum. Let’s do it.” There was no good sushi in Mist River. In fact, many small towns in Michigan lacked that particular delicacy, and Tessa loved it.

“Decision made!” Gloria gave a little fist-pump as they entered a large room dotted with rental car kiosks. “Hey! That’s a familiar face a long way from home. Isn’t that your hottie landlord?”

Tessa followed her friend’s gaze and found Silas’s smiling face as he exited the line of a competing rental car agency. She was a little surprised Gloria recognized him—she’d only met him once briefly when she came over to watch movies with Tessa and Abi. But she’d immediately honed in on Tessa’s interest in Silas. In true close girlfriend fashion, Gloria had instantly made it her mission to tease Tessa about having a crush every chance she got.

“I wondered if I’d see you here—I didn’t know which flight you’d be on.” Silas held a set of car keys in one hand and carried a navy-blue duffel bag in the other. He wore khaki cargo shorts and a bright blue T-shirt.

He looked vacation ready and oh, so good.

“Hey,” she managed to respond. “You’re here!”

“I’m here.” He shrugged. “I decided to just go for it, ya know?”

“That’s great.” It was great. Tessa’s heart told her as much as it thumped louder and faster in her chest. Silas had come at her encouragement. But now that she saw him here, she wasn’t sure what to do.

“I’m staying at the Roundtree Resort and Spa. Your hotel—the one you suggested—was completely booked, but mine isn’t too far away.” He glanced at Gloria and included her in his thousand-watt smile. “I’m Silas. I don’t know if you remember—”

“Oh, I remember.” She smiled back and sent a wink in Tessa’s direction. “What brings you here, Silas? Vacation?”

“At Tessa’s encouragement, yeah. I haven’t had a vacation in so long that I’m already wondering what to do with myself. Not sure I know how to relax and live in the moment.”

“I find it’s easier to do than you think,” Gloria said.

“I don’t know.” He turned to Tessa. “I’m already worrying about Mrs. Cross’ dental appointment in two days. I usually take her to that kind of stuff.”

“Your cousin can handle all that,” Tessa said. “Try to put it out of your mind and just chill.”

He shrugged. “I’ll try.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I’m a little afraid I’m going to be bored with nothing to do and no one to talk to.”

“Tessa’s going to have lots of free time,” Gloria offered. She ignored Tessa’s wide-eyed, questioning look. “I’ve got more meetings than she does because I have to attend some of the advanced stuff, so she’ll be looking for something to do too. You guys should hang out.”

What the heck was she talking about? This was the first Tessa had heard about Gloria having to go to presentations Tessa didn’t.

Was she lying? She had to be. But Gloria’s grandpa, who’d taught her to play Blackjack, would have been proud. Her face didn’t show her hand at all as she kept her gaze on Silas.

Tessa realized then that he was looking at her, expecting some sort of confirmation. She stammered, “I’ll be available most evenings. It would be nice to hang out. Fun,” she corrected.

Silas set down his bag and pushed hair out of his eyes. “Yeah? Awesome. How about tonight? Would you maybe want to grab a bite to eat with me and then go see some sights?”

She cut her eyes to Gloria, whose smile was so wide it reminded Tessa of the Cheshire Cat. The other reaper nodded at Tessa encouragingly, despite their earlier plans.

“Okay,” Tessa agreed. “That sounds like fun. Let’s do it.”

“How about now? I’m starved.”

“Go ahead,” Gloria urged, even giving Tessa a tiny shove toward her landlord. “I’ll get our rental car and take your luggage to the resort. Get us both checked in too. There aren’t any presentations until tomorrow morning.” Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Tessa’s suitcase and started off. Over her shoulder, she called, “Have fun, you two.”

Silas picked up his duffel bag and started toward a nearby door. “I asked around a little bit and found out where the best Cuban food in town is. You up for that?”

Tessa followed him, glancing back at Gloria, who stood in line at one of the kiosks. She winked and gave Tessa two thumbs up and then made a shooing motion.

“It sounds good, but I’m not dressed for a fancy meal. I’ve got my traveling clothes on.”

Silas glanced at her, his eyes taking in her stretchy black yoga capris and worn Detroit Lions shirt. “You look great. I’m sure this place doesn’t have a dress code.” He used the key fob to unlock a silver sedan and shoved his bag in the trunk before opening the passenger door for her.

“Maybe we could just drive around a little and see what looks good?” She got into the car, her stomach doing a little flip. Whether from hunger or nerves, she wasn’t sure.

Why would she be nervous? She was just going to explore a new city with a friend. That’s all. It certainly wasn’t a date or anything. No matter how much Gloria had acted like a slightly insane matchmaker.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Silas went around and got in his side. Soon, they were driving along the coast, both of their windows down so they could enjoy the salty ocean breeze.

“Everything is so colorful here,” Tessa mused as they passed a group of turquoise, orange, and yellow-painted shops. “I’ve always loved the bright colors of ocean towns.”

“Mist River Manor is going to be due for a paint job soon. Maybe we should consider Caribbean blue.” Silas grinned. The breeze caught his hair and deposited it over one eye, where it seemed to live most of the time anyway. Suddenly, he pulled over and parked the car. “Do you mind if we walk the boardwalk for a bit? I really need to find a kiosk or shop selling sunglasses. I forgot to bring some.”

“Sure. My legs could use a stretch after the plane ride.”

They strolled on the boardwalk for an hour or so, ducking into shops and buying Silas’s sunglasses. Tessa got a pair too, even though she’d brought some. She couldn’t resist a huge, purple-rimmed pair with rhinestones on the corners.

The sun set as they watched from a deck jutting out from the boardwalk overlooking the beach. Then, Silas suddenly pointed at something a little further along. “Whatever that truck is selling, it smells amazing.”

Tessa inhaled a deep breath and groaned. “Mexican,” she said.

“Let’s go.” Silas grabbed Tessa’s hand and pulled her along, almost jogging, until they stood in front of the truck’s window perusing the menu. Then he darted a look at her and abruptly dropped the hand to push back his hair.

Tessa was sorry he’d let go.

They ordered empanadas and a basket of chips and salsa to share and picked a spot on the sand to sit and eat. They munched in silence, watching the waves and other beachgoers wander along.

“This is nice,” Silas said when his food was gone. “And you didn’t need to be dressed fancy or anything.”

She laughed and popped the last bite of empanada into her mouth.

It was nice.

In fact, Tessa found herself wishing she got to spend all of the next few days with Silas. The thought of attending boring reaper presentations—the thought of death in general—was far away when he was around. Silas was so alive, so full of life and energy, that it made her want to be that way too.

Chapter 6

THE SPREAD OUTSIDE the conference room entrance was insane. Tessa surveyed the first of two long tables. There were all kinds of breakfast foods to choose from. Of course, she gravitated toward the sweets. There were pastries galore as well as French toast stuffed with cream cheese and chocolate chip pancakes.

But thinking of her bathing suit, she settled for scrambled eggs and some sliced fruit. Next to her, Gloria grabbed a sampling of all the treats, ignoring anything that wasn’t sweet—except bacon. Because bacon. She stacked several slices on her already loaded plate.

“These talks can be boring,” she said, gesturing to Mount Sugar on her plate. “This keeps it interesting.”

To Tessa, it looked more like Gloria would be comatose in about a half hour. She grabbed a cup of coffee from the coffee station—and reluctantly snatched a couple donut holes—before following her friend to sit at one of six or seven long tables facing a small stage with a podium.

Tessa stuck pretty close to Gloria. So far, she’d only met a few other reapers in the elevator and the lobby. And she’d tried to act cool. But the truth was it was all slightly intimidating.

Part of her mind was on Silas, wondering what he was doing with the day. He’d dropped her off at a decent hour the night before. Gloria had been in their hotel room, waiting to grill Tessa on how the night had gone. She’d struggled to hide the disappointment on her face, hearing it was just a walk on the beach and some food truck eats with no goodnight kiss.

Tessa might’ve forgotten to tell her friend about the brief moment when Silas had taken her hand. She was still unsure herself if it had really happened—and if it meant as much to him as it did her.

Gloria sat next to Shirley, the reaper from British Columbia, who sipped tea and smiled at them from behind the steaming cup.

Music began to play, and a countdown timer started on a screen above the stage, signaling to everyone that the program would begin shortly.

Gloria and Tessa dug into their food. Around a bite of Boston cream donut, Gloria said, “How’s things in the great white north, Shirl?”

“Oh, just fine. Just fine. And Mist River is still standing, I take it?”

“It’s as exciting as ever,” Gloria confirmed before gulping some orange juice. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Luckily, our district covers a pretty big area, so we have plenty of chances to get out of our micro-town pretty often. Oh, this is Tessa Randolph. She’s a rookie this year.”

The woman gave Tessa a kind smile. “I remember when I first started. It’s such an exciting time.”

Exciting. That was definitely one way to explain Tessa’s first week on the job.

“Make sure you take notes here—there are always lots of good tidbits and takeaways. And come to my talk later today. It’s lighter than most. I’m doing one on the funniest reaps I’ve done in my several decades on the job.” She chuckled. “I’ve had some real roll-on-the-floor fantastic times.”

Gloria jerked her chin toward the conference room doorway, where April was just entering. “While Shirl’s talks are fun, there are others that border on torture.” She rolled her eyes and leaned closer to Tessa to whisper, “I challenge you not to fall asleep during April’s afternoon sessions.”

Tessa snorted. “Boring, huh?”

“Mind-numbingly.” Gloria leaned back, getting Shirley’s attention once more. “Do you know anything about Art’s death?”

The elder reaper checked that no one nearby was listening and then said, “Just that it wasn’t planned. There was no order for it and no reaper ready for his soul. But April isn’t discussing it with anyone. It’s an off-limits topic, I guess.”

Gloria frowned.

Just then, April tapped the microphone at the front of the room to check if it was on. Everyone settled in and quieted down. The district supervisor looked much like she had when Tessa met her back in Michigan—she wore a different gray suit that matched her hair. Tessa wondered if she had them specially made. Did April have to send in a snippet of her hair to get the fabric dyed the exact right shade? Like taking in a sample of something to get some paint made to match?

“Welcome, everyone. Thank you for taking your reaper career seriously and being here to learn and grow.” April beamed at the crowd. A smattering of clapping died out fast when only a few joined in. She didn’t seem to care and continued promoting the merits of the conference and the reaper profession in general. Near the end of the speech, almost as though it were an afterthought, she gestured toward a man in the front row and introduced him as Lee Stuart, the supervisor for the western district.

Once the keynote speech was over—and Tessa had learned that Gloria really wasn’t kidding about the nature of April’s talks—Tessa and Gloria studied the schedules they’d been given at check-in. There were multiple presentations going on at the same times all day, so they’d have to pick and choose which to attend.

As much as Tessa wanted to stay close to Gloria so she’d have someone she knew nearby, it quickly became apparent that they should split up to get the most out of the conference.

Gloria wanted to attend talks like The Most Incredible Reapers in History and Reap the Benefits of Your Job: IRA Strategies for Reapers. But Tessa knew she should attend the more basic talks like How to Stay in the Shadows and Fifteen Ways to Handle a Reluctant Reap.

“You’ll be fine,” Gloria encouraged her. “I’ll meet up with you at lunchtime. We can attend the last talk of the day together.” She gave a little wave and hurried off to catch up with another reaper she’d spotted.

Tessa consulted her schedule again and then headed to room 101 for the talk about staying in the shadows. Sticking with the theme of the talk, she chose a seat at the back of the room and watched other reapers file in. She recognized Cynthia, the reaper from Chicago, who slumped into a chair near the door, looking as miserable as she had back in the airport bar.

The speaker was Bubba from Seattle, and he couldn’t have a more polar opposite presentation style from April. He was as much a hoot as Gloria had made him out to be. In fact, by the end of the talk, Tessa was a hundred percent sure that the man was horrible at blending into the shadows, reaper or not. He seemed to love being the center of attention.

As everyone herded toward the door after the talk, Tessa gathered her things as quickly as possible, intending to catch Cynthia. She wanted to see if she could get any information out of the other reaper about the allocation problem Timothy had narrowed down to the Chicago office.

Cynthia had disappeared by the time Tessa left the room. She was nowhere to be seen in the hallway. Apparently, the woman knew how to move in the shadows better than Bubba.

Maybe she should give the talk next year.

Someone brushed against her, and Tessa mumbled, “Ope, sorry about that,” in true midwestern fashion as she turned to look at the person who’d bumped her.

It was a man, about a foot taller than Tessa. His hair was so black it looked like it had been dipped in ink. In fact, it shone so much it appeared to be wet, flowing. It fell to his shoulders with just enough waviness to be interesting. He was dressed all in black, too, with dress pants and a polo shirt that looked high-end, tailored to fit his body in exactly the way that would best show off his long, lithe, runner’s muscles.

Tessa brought her eyes up to meet his and had to stifle a gasp. His irises were the palest of blue, and for a second, Tessa could swear they were pulsing. It was jarring. Inhuman, somehow. He smiled, and it looked more predatory than friendly.

She took a step back.

He smiled wider. “Greetings, Theresa Randolph.” He glanced over her shoulder at the room she’d just exited. “Did you learn to stay shadowed?”

“Oh. Um. Yes. Lots to think about from that talk. I . . . um.” Why was she stammering like a schoolchild? Tessa forced herself to straighten and meet his eyes again. Wait—how did he know her name? “I’m sorry. I missed your name. Did we meet before?”

“I make it a point to learn the names of all the new reapers. But I don’t want to make you late for the next presentation. You have a lot to learn.” With that, he turned and stalked away. Without really noticing him, people skittered out of his way as he walked, leaving the middle of the hallway clear for the strange, tall man. It reminded Tessa of mice scattering before a cat.

She shook her head to clear it and checked the schedule to see where to go next. It took longer to shake off the strange cool feeling the man had left behind.

The rest of the day went by in a pleasant blur. Tessa and Gloria met up for lunch, which was a lovely all-you-can-eat buffet. Gloria introduced Tessa to more people. During the afternoon sessions, Tessa recognized more of the folks in the rooms than she didn’t. She was starting to get her sea-legs, so to speak—feeling more comfortable in the reaper community.

Before she knew it, the time had come for the last talk of the day: Accountable Accounting in Reaping. Wow. Just the title alone sounded boring. And since the talk was being given by April, Tessa knew it would be hard to sit through without falling asleep. She opted for a late afternoon cup of coffee. It was cold and stale.

There were no other presentations at the same time, and the main conference room they’d started in that morning filled up with people again. This time, Gloria and Tessa sat near the front, sitting close to Lee Stuart.

Frantic movement caught her attention, and Tessa leaned forward to find Timothy a few seats down, smiling and waving to her. There was a big brown stain on the left breast pocket of his ill-fitting gray suit. “Hello, again.”

Tessa smiled and waved back.

“I hope you’re having a good time. For me, it’s all work, work, work.”

“It’s been interesting so far.”

He nodded energetically, before April tapped the microphone and began speaking, silencing the whole of the crowd. Timothy looked disappointed.

April started her talk by expressing her hope that everyone had enjoyed a day filled with learning and fun. “To close out the first day, we’re going to talk about accounting in the reaper business. It’s crucial that we be impeccable with our record-keeping.” She shuffled papers on the lectern in front of her and then adjusted the microphone. “If the numbers aren’t right, your branch may incur tremendous costs in hunting down the problem and making it right.” She looked out into the crowd, pinning someone with her gaze. Tessa craned her neck to see who.

It was Cynthia. The reaper from Chicago shrank in her chair as though trying to sink through the floor into oblivion as dozens of eyes landed on her.

Tessa felt sorry for the poor woman and made a mental note to invite her to dinner or something during the next few days of the conference time. It really seemed like she could use a friend or two.

April continued, showing slides that explained how reaper accounting was managed. Each agency got its assignments and did the associated reaping. If the two numbers didn’t match at the end of the month, there was a problem. It could happen either way—not enough souls were reaped as there were orders or more reaping had been done than was ordered.

Sometimes, it was a matter of lazy reporting, and the matter was easily reckoned. Other times, it wasn’t so simple. If an agency’s manager couldn’t find and reconcile the discrepancy within one month, the area’s supervisor was called in. After that, the district supervisor got involved. Eventually, the owner of the entire organization had to be consulted.

“And no one wants that,” April assured everyone in the room. “Mr. Blade has more than enough to occupy his time without such nonsense.”

Tessa wondered about the owner. She made a mental note to question Gloria about him.

April continued, droning on about accounting and staying accountable by maintaining impeccable records. “We all know the reaping is the exciting part and the paperwork is drudgery, but without it, our whole system falls apart. Some of you may think of this as just a job. But as far as I’m aware, ours is the only job with the fate of the universe at stake. All of this—” she gestured to the room, to the word outside— “would be destroyed if we truly lose a soul long-term. I hope that explains how important accounting is.”

Tessa’s hand shot into the air, surprising her. She hadn’t meant to ask a question, but her arm seemed to have a mind of its own.

April cast a cool stare at her and seemed to consider ignoring Tessa. But she sighed and said, “Yes?”

“What happens if someone dies whose death wasn’t ordered? How is it investigated and reconciled?” She was proud that her voice didn’t quaver. There was no hint of the trepidation she felt in her chest at speaking out in front of all those people.

“We have folks within our organization whose sole job it is to research those deaths and bring the accounting in-line,” April said flatly before turning back to point at the screen. “Now let’s talk about . . .”

But Tessa cut her off, shocking herself further. Loud and clear, she said, “What about Art’s death? Was his accounted for?”

Chapter 7

SLOWLY, APRIL TURNED around. A muscle in her jaw twitched as though she were clenching her teeth.

Tessa sat straighter, refusing to be intimidated.

Gloria gave a snort that sounded like a cross between awe and amusement.

“If you must know,” April said, “it was not accounted for.” Had her eyes been equipped with lasers, Tessa’s forehead would have a rather large hole through it. The look was obviously meant to shut down any further conversation.

Though she itched to ask more follow-up questions, Tessa heeded Gloria’s warning elbow jab and clamped her lips together. But April’s answer had started a murmuring among the reapers in the room. The supervisor’s gaze flitted around, and she held up a hand. “Please, everyone. There’s nothing to be concerned about. We already narrowed in on the problem, and we’ll have it straightened out soon. Now. If we could continue my talk . . .”

April went back to her presentation, clicking through slides and reading them verbatim off the screen. She’d lost her audience and her spirit. She ended rather abruptly a few minutes later and didn’t take any further questions, despite the last slide being labeled for Q & A. She stormed out of the room with Timothy trailing behind.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Gloria shook her head and giggled. “April looked fit to be tied.”

“I just don’t understand why she’s hush-hush about Art’s death. I mean, there are so many reapers here right now. Death is our business. And if one of our own goes unexpectedly . . . well, it’s a problem.”

“I agree with you there.”

“Surely, someone knows something about what happened or could help figure it out. I mean, if accounting is so important, why would April want to keep it a secret?”

Gloria shrugged. “Probably to try and prevent Lee Stuart from finding out about it. The two of them have a competitive working relationship. Actually, the competitiveness leaks into their personal lives too. They’re like ex-spouses. Makes me wonder if they dated a long time ago.”

“Must’ve been a bad break-up.” Tessa smiled. She grabbed her stuff and followed Gloria out of the conference room.

“Let’s drop our things in the room and then get a drink,” Gloria suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Actually, Tessa had a long list of things she should be doing instead. She could avail herself of the hotel’s fitness room. She’d been sitting all day, and her muscles were screaming for some blood-pumping action. But that could wait for tomorrow, when she planned to get up earlier and work out before the presentations started—especially if she wanted Danishes and donut holes for breakfast. Her tummy gurgled at the thought.

And that was another reason a drink was a bad idea. She hadn’t had any dinner. Then there was Silas. What was he up to today? Should she try to me up with him?

The first thing Tessa did in the hotel room was check her phone. She’d left it behind so she wouldn’t be distracted by it during the conference. She texted Silas, just a quick check-in to see if he’d a good day, then checked her messages.

There was a voicemail from Abi. “Your cat is a menace. I left my sweatshirt in your apartment last night, and she shredded it. Now she’s laying on it and won’t let me near her. Don’t ever ask me to watch her again. She’s evil. Bring an exorcist and a bottle of wine when you come back.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and made a mental note to buy Abi a replacement sweatshirt in the airport gift shop on the way home. That and a bottle of Pinot Noir should butter her up and make her forget the tortie’s bad manners.

Just as Tessa was setting the phone back on the nightstand, it rang, startling her. She glanced at the screen and groaned. She thought about ignoring the call, but it would never work. Cheryl would find some way to get in contact with her. She might even call the hotel bar. How embarrassing would that be?

Reluctantly, Tessa slid her finger over the screen and put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Mom!” She made her voice as cheerful as possible in hopes of setting the tone for the call.

“Are you learning anything?” Cheryl’s tone took over. All business.

“Oh, yeah. Loads. I can totally stay in the shadows with the best of ‘em now.” Tessa carried the phone across the room so she could look in the mirror while she talked.

“Good. Make sure you use those newfound skills during the rest of the conference. April isn’t in the mood to have anything go wrong.” Cheryl paused. “You’re not rocking the boat there, are you?”

“Boat? What boat? I haven’t seen a boat. We’ve been stuck at the hotel.” Tessa scrunched her hair, trying to give it more bounce. It looked limp and lifeless. The water at the hotel was softer than at home. She really should have packed her root booster.

“I sent you there to learn, Theresa. Not play in Miami.”

“You know, if they wanted to stick us somewhere to learn, Michigan would’ve been the perfect place.”

“I can tell by your tone that you are rocking the boat!”

“Mom! I don’t know anything about a boat. Things are going smoothly. You know, except for the dead reaper on the plane.”

“Yes, well, I heard about that. Unfortunate situation. But it’s none of your business, so stay out of it.” Cheryl’s tone didn’t allow for any argument, so Tessa didn’t make one. She bit her tongue and leaned forward to check her complexion more closely. Her hair might not be doing well, but her skin seemed to love the extra humidity in Florida. Maybe she should spend some time with her head over a humidifier every day back home.

“Theresa!”

Tessa jumped. She’d been so busy thinking about her beauty regimen she must have missed something important her mother said. “What?”

“I asked whether you’re taking notes. I’d like you to do a presentation on everything you learned when you get back.”

“A presentation? Why? Don’t you know all this stuff already?” She crossed to sit on the bed. Gloria had disappeared into the bathroom after shooting Tessa a sympathetic look.

“Of course I do. I want to see what you are learning. If you write it down, you’re more likely to remember it. And if you teach it—it’s even more likely to sink in. Plus, it’d be great for the whole office.”

“I’ll remember,” Tessa said. “It’s not rocket science. It’s stuff like, ‘Wear dark clothes when you go to an assignment, so you’re less likely to stand out and be noticed.’ I think I can grok that, Mom.” She was ready to get off the phone and completely regretted ever answering.

“Fine. But take notes anyway. And be prepared for your presentation next Monday. What about the other reapers? Are you making friends? I hope you aren’t being awkward, Theresa.” Cheryl sounded a bit anxious, like it was too much to hope that Tessa could be cool.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I can handle the rare social interaction with a co-worker. I’m not that ridiculous.” Tessa felt herself pouting like a kid and forced herself to stop. In high school, her mother never liked her friends. She preferred to think Tessa didn’t have any. “You know I have friends, Mom. I know how to behave.”

“Sure you do, dear. It’s just a little reminder.” She paused. “What are you up to tonight?”

“Gloria and I are going down to have a drink in a few minutes.”

“Don’t overdo it! You know how you get when you drink too much.” Cheryl made a tsk noise.

Tessa didn’t have any idea what her mother meant, but she was beyond ready for the conversation to be over, so she said, “Yeah. Okay. I’ll be careful. Bye!”

“Goodbye. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Great. Tessa knocked on the bathroom door. “I need that drink ten minutes ago.”

Gloria came out wearing a knee-length, hot pink sundress. “Ready!”

“Wait. I can’t go with you looking like that and me looking like this.” Tessa glanced down at her business casual clothes. “Let me change.”

Gloria shrugged. “Go for it. I’m not the one in a hurry.” She plopped onto her bed and began to scroll on her phone.

Tessa changed quickly. Her sundress was less flashy but still pretty—butter yellow with cream lace fringe. Gloria nodded approvingly when she saw it.

They headed downstairs and made their way across the lobby into the hotel bar, which already contained a fair number of reapers. Many of them still wore the clothes they’d had on during the day’s presentations, and Tessa wondered if they shouldn’t have changed.

“I’ll be right back. I want to say hi to Hugh from Indiana.” Gloria took off before Tessa could respond.

Wonderful. Tessa looked around, feeling like a middle schooler trying to find someone to sit with in a packed lunchroom where all the cliques were already seated together.

She decided things would look better once she had a drink in her hand. Or, at least, she’d have something to do with herself that would be less awkward than just standing there with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

Maybe Mom has a point.

She ordered a whiskey sour, paid the bartender, and then looked up and down the bar. At the far end, she spotted Cynthia, sitting alone nursing a bottle of beer. Without taking the time to overthink it, Tessa moved to sit beside the other reaper. “Hi. I’m Tessa Randolph, from the Mist River agency.” She stuck out her hand.

Cynthia took the offered hand, reluctantly, it seemed, and shook it. “Cynthia Crooks from Chicago,” she said and cocked her head. “You must work with Gloria, then.”

Tessa nodded.

“That’s cool. She’s fun.”

“Yeah, she’s been really helpful getting me on the right track.” Tessa eyed the woman. “She actually helped me with an unfortunate situation I ran into on my second day on the job.” Tessa was thinking on her feet, trying to create some common ground and perhaps get a bit of information out of Cynthia. “I actually lost a soul because I was late to a death.”

Cynthia’s eyebrows raised in interest. “Really? Did you find it?”

Tessa nodded. “Eventually. But I had to figure out who killed him and why he was running from me first. It was kind of a mess.” She paused and then dove in, throwing caution to the wind. The warmth of the whisky sour in her belly felt like courage. “Has anything like that ever happen to you?”

Cynthia took a sip of beer and shook her head. “I guess I’ve been lucky so far.”

“That’s good. You know, I had kind of wondered if you may have lost a soul or something too. Like I did.”

“What made you think that?”

Tessa shrugged. “Because you’ve been looking kind of sad so far on this trip, and I know April visited your office right before this.” At Cynthia’s surprised expression, she explained, “April was at my office before she went to Chicago.”

“Well, you’re partially right. I’m upset because April accused us—my branch, I mean—of messing with the accounting. She thinks one of us screwed up and we’re all trying to cover for it.”

“Obviously, you’re not,” Tessa said. “But are you sure no one in your office is?”

“I can’t be. But April laid the blame on my shoulders. She said we’re going to have to figure it out before the conference is over.” Cynthia slumped further over the bar. “I can’t lose this job. But I don’t know how to prove we didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tessa understood. She wanted to help Cynthia but had no idea how. “I’m sure it’ll get straightened out. I’ll tell you what—I’ll keep my ears open. If I hear anything that could help you, I’ll let you know right away.”

Cynthia smiled and looked hopeful for once. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you. And welcome to the reaper community. I’m sorry I’m not more fun to be around right now.”

Tessa waved off the apology. “It’s understandable that you’d be distracted.” She saw Gloria heading toward them. “Do you want to join us? We’re just having a couple drinks, and then we’ll probably head to the pool.”

“For more drinks?” Cynthia guessed.

Laughing, Tessa nodded. “Probably.”

“I’d like that. Thanks!”

Tessa thought of something. “Hey, one more work question before we focus on fun. Do you know who reaped Art’s soul on the plane?”

She shook her head, attention already on Gloria, who’d just sat next to Tessa. “No, I didn’t see his soul or the reaper who took him over. Sorry. To be honest, I was pretty focused on my own problems.”

“I understand.” Tessa sighed.

Gloria ordered them all another round. Tessa tried to focus on the conversation, which had turned sharply to a discussion about the latest episode of a popular reality show.

But her mind kept skipping around between the messed-up accounting that April was investigating and the mystery of Art’s untimely death.

She studied her drink, wiping the condensation on the side of the cup with her thumb. She was so out of it that she failed to notice a familiar face sidled up at the bar beside them. At least until a familiar hand came out of nowhere and brushed her forearm softly.

She jerked out of her thoughts to find Silas beside her, smiling.

Chapter 8

“I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND me just showing up like this. It’s a short walk here from my hotel, and I figured by your text you were probably done for the day. Are you?” Silas looked like a bronze statue—almost too perfect to be real. How in the world had he managed to get such a great tan in one day? Florida and Silas were getting along well.

“Yes, she’s done.” Gloria shoved Tessa off the barstool and followed her down. “There’s a free table over there—let’s grab it.” She led the way to a small round table but at the last minute, turned to Cynthia and said, “Oh, there’s Lydia. You’re friends with her, right? Would you mind introducing me?”

Cynthia shrugged. “Sure. But I thought you . . .”

In the blink of an eye, they were gone. Gloria had managed to wriggle them both away so that she could be alone with Silas. Wow. She’s good. For the thousandth time in recent days, Tessa wondered why Gloria didn’t have a boyfriend.

Silas settled into the chair across from Tessa. He slid his beer onto the table. “So, how was the first day of your conference?”

“Boring.” The word slipped out of its own volition. “I mean, super interesting and informative.” She winced and sipped her drink.

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine presentations about life insurance would be too much fun. What do you talk about? All I can imagine is someone droning on about amortization. Wait, is that a thing in life insurance or savings accounts?”

“I think it’s loans.” Tessa giggled. “But I could very well have attended a talk about amortization today and not know it. I mainly doodled in my notebook and drank enough coffee to watch my hands tremor.”

“Are you an artist?”

“I can draw a stick figure with the best of them. I just didn’t want my head to thud on the table and draw everyone’s attention.”

Silas grinned and looked around. “It must be nice to be around so many colleagues, though. That’s something I kind of miss with my job. Aside from the residents, it’s just me. It’s kind of hard to have inside jokes about work with yourself. You look like a loon laughing away at your own internal monologue.”

“I can see that. But at least you do have people around.”

“True. But they usually want me to fix something. I guess your customers are different. I can’t imagine. It seems like a rather grim business.”

“You have no idea.” Tessa couldn’t tell him that it was more than that. Her customers were on their last checkout. Ever. “How long have you been a landlord?”

Before he could answer, someone bumped into Tessa from behind. She craned her neck around to find Bubba looking sheepish. “Sorry. My first day using feet,” he quipped. “Tessa, right? Out of Mist River?”

“That’s me,” she said.

“I saw you in my shadows presentation. I hope it was helpful.”

“Yeah, it was great.”

Tessa hoped the brief compliment would shut Bubba up. But he seemed bent on continuing. Alcohol does have a way of doing that.

“I mean, April assigned the topics and presenters. It’s not really my strong suit. I kind of figure, by the time someone’s within a few minutes of dying, what’s the point of hiding, you know?” He took a sip of the light brown, iced drink in his hand—maybe a Long Island iced tea.

Loose lips sink ships. Tessa shot a quick look at Silas. His slightly narrowed eyes studied Bubba closely, letting her know he was trying to figure out what the guy was on about.

She tried to think fast. “Um. Yeah. Delivering a settlement to a beneficiary is both the best and worst part of our job, right?” She hoped her tone didn’t reveal the floundering feeling she felt inside.

Confusion flitted across Bubba’s face, almost mirroring Silas’s from a moment before. “Settlement,” he repeated.

“Yes. Being a life insurance agent is, like, long stretches of horrible boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror, right?” She elbowed Bubba in the thigh and tipped her head a tiny bit toward Silas, hoping to get the message across to the other reaper.

Bubba’s gaze jerked toward Silas and understanding swept over his features. “Oh, yeah.” He shook his head. “Delivering the settlement. Best and worst part. Well, I’ll see you later. Enjoy the rest of the conference.”

In his hurry to get away, Bubba tripped over his own feet and crashed into another table, spilling his drink all over the table where Gloria, Cynthia, and Lydia were seated beside Lee Stuart.

Cynthia looked as uncomfortable as ever, especially with the stain now covering her blouse.

But the western district supervisor threw a few napkins over the mess, handing a couple to her. “Bubba,” he said jovially. “I believe this means you’re cut off.”

Tessa cringed. Poor Bubba. She felt a little responsible for that.

She returned her attention to Silas. “I guess some people started drinking earlier than others.”

“Yeah. Wow. That seemed like a pretty morbid presentation you had to attend.” A hint of confusion—no, it looked like actual suspicion—still floated behind his eyes.

“Well, like you said before, when you’re a life insurance agent, you basically think and talk about death and dying all day long. I guess it starts to become second nature. I think the more experienced agents tend to forget that not everyone lives hand-in-hand with death all the time.” She held her breath, hoping he bought her explanation.

Silas’s shoulders relaxed and he took a swig of beer. “I can see that. There are some professions where a dark sense of humor is probably essential to handling the work. Could you imagine being a grave digger?”

“No.” Tessa smiled, relieved that he seemed to have accepted her explanation.

“Or a medical examiner. Or, get this, a grim reaper?” He laughed, and Tessa feigned laughing alongside him. She made a mental note to suggest to someone a new presentation topic for next year’s conference: 100 Ways to Hide Your True Career.

Behind her, Tessa could hear a small group of reapers getting louder. One of them was telling a story about a funny reap she’d done. Tessa shot to her feet. This place was feeling awfully crowded. And it wasn’t the drink making her throat close up.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked loudly, attempting to drown out the reapers and their stories. “I do. I’ve been in this hotel all day.” There was no way she was going to be able to keep Silas from hearing something he shouldn’t in a bar full of reapers drinking and getting loud.

Silas threw down the last of his beer and got up. “How about a walk on the beach?”

“That sounds great.” Relief seeped into her mind, calming it, as they exited the bar and made for the front door.

“It’s a nice evening,” Silas said once they were on the sand.

Tessa took in the scene. The sun was beginning to set, casting a glittery reflection on the ocean, which was calm—only tiny waves lapped at the shore, making a faint tinkling sound. She took off her shoes and got close enough to the water to get her toes wet. “It’s perfect,” she agreed.

“I spent most of the day on the beach, but it’s better with you.” Silas looked at his feet instead of making eye contact.

She was glad about that because she could feel heat in her cheeks—a much better feeling than she’d had in the bar. “Beach life is nice, huh?”

He nodded. “I haven’t been able to spend a lot of time like this in my life.”

“Didn’t you get to take many vacations when you were a kid?” Tessa’s parents had made it a point to take a family vacation somewhere warm every February. That was the time of year when most Michiganders were well and truly tired of winter dreariness.

“I can’t remember going on any,” he answered. “We didn’t have the money to do stuff like that.” He glanced at her and then looked right back down. “My dad left when I was six. There were four of us little kids for Mom to feed and clothe. She did a fantastic job. I never needed something I didn’t have. But there weren’t a lot of extras. No sandy beaches or Mickey Mouse.”

“That’s understandable.” She felt a stab of guilt. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how good you had it.

“Once my older brother, Liam, turned sixteen, he got a job, and that made things a little easier. In fact, I was able to join Little League. And Liam bought me a bat.”

“Baseball,” she said. “My dad loved baseball.”

“Me, too.”

“Did you play?”

The moonlight glinted off his gentle smile. “Something like that.”

“Come on,” she teased him, “what does that even mean?”

“Well, I didn’t have anybody at home to practice with, but I spent every minute I could over at the ball field, talking anybody who wandered past into throwing for me for a few minutes. Mostly, I just threw the ball at the fence. Wore out this little section, perfecting my pitches.”

“And?”

“I was pretty good. High school all-star and all that. I wanted to make a career out of it. Make the big bucks and get my whole family a big house and fancy cars.” He snorted. “A kid’s ridiculous dream.”

Tessa’s heart squeezed as she imagined young Silas spending hours on the ball field, late into the night, trying to get good enough to lift his family out of poverty. “I think it’s a beautiful dream.”

His head snapped up and he met her gaze with a wide-eyed one. “It didn’t work out, though. I made it to the minor leagues but blew out my shoulder before I could get to the majors.” He shook his head. “I should have spent that time studying computer science or something. Maybe it would have worked out better.”

She wanted to say something smart, but nothing came to mind. She stared at the water instead.

“My family’s doing fine, though,” he said in a more cheerful tone. “Liam worked his way up to management and now he owns a little grocery store. My younger sisters both went into the medical field. My mom has a nice house in the suburbs, and she doesn’t have to worry about anything. We all help take care of her. She deserves it.”

That must be why he worked so hard. Silas knew what it was like to not have enough.

“Wow, I can’t believe I just told you all that. Way to go, Si—you managed to be more boring than the woman’s life insurance presentations.” He snorted and shook his head again. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what got into me. I don’t talk about myself all that much. I promise.”

“It’s not boring,” she insisted. “I’m glad you told me about it. I’d love to meet your family some day.” Oh, geez, Tessa. You basically just invited yourself to be his girlfriend.

He stopped suddenly in the sand, grabbed her hand, and looked into her face. “I’d like that too,” he said with a smile. “Tessa?”

“Yes?” She felt her body leaning toward his, anticipating a kiss.

His expression was earnest, and he leaned forward a bit too. “Do you want to find that empanada truck again?”

Chapter 9

“YOU LOOK LIKE SOMETHING that cat of yours swallowed, partly digested, and then brought back up.” Gloria’s head tipped as she evaluated Tessa.

“Thanks. I appreciate your candor.” Tessa rubbed her face and then ran a hand through tangled hair. “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

“You don’t look in any state to hop. How late were you out last night?” Gloria perched on the edge of her bed, already dressed for the conference in khaki capris and a scarlet scoop-neck blouse. “Thankfully, I didn’t hear you come in—or else you’d have other problems this morning.” She smiled.

Tessa groaned as she pawed through her suitcase for an outfit. “I don’t know. Two or maybe three in the morning, I think.”

“And you were with hottie landlord that whole time?”

“We lost track of time. We found this great food truck. But last night, it was parked next to a margarita truck. I’m not even kidding. Then we went for a walk and got hungry again.”

“Not a good sign.”

“Yeah, we found a little restaurant with a patio facing the ocean and had appetizers and drinks. There was a band. Some very bad dancing—on my part. Silas, it turns out, is an excellent dancer.” She groaned again. “I missed my alarm this morning, too exhausted to get up and do my workout. I guess I’m too old to stay up past midnight.”

Gloria snorted. “Okay, Cinderella.” She grinned. “At least you got to spend some quality time with your prince.”

“He’s not my prince.” She went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Through it, Gloria’s voice floated. “Stop fighting it! You two are adorable together. Like Ken and Barbie. William and Kate. Beauty and the Beast.” She paused. “You know, after the Beast got un-furry.”

“I don’t see how I could date someone right now. He’s already gotten suspicious a couple of times, I think. You know, about the reaper thing.” Tessa turned on the water, drowning out whatever Gloria may have responded with.

It was her argument and she was going to stick to it. There was just no way that she and Silas would work. Their lives were so different. And once they were back in Mist River, everything would go back to normal. Wouldn’t it?

When she came back out, dressed and ready to go, the other reaper acted like there hadn’t been any interruption in their conversation. “Reapers date normal people. It can be done. You just have to get better at explaining away the weird. And, eventually, you could even tell him the truth. If you guys get serious and you’re sure he’ll keep the secret. He seems like the type that could.”

“He is,” Tessa agreed.

She pondered that as they headed for the breakfast buffet. Could she really date Silas and keep the true nature of her career under wraps? At least, until and unless they got serious enough for her to divulge the secret? Maybe she was overthinking it. Or maybe she was just crap at keeping secrets herself. It hadn’t been easy at the bar. But then again, she wouldn’t always be surrounded be several hundred other reapers.

She pushed away the questions, deciding they would be better examined when she wasn’t so tired.

Tessa went straight for the coffee bar. The shower had perked her up a little, but she was counting on the caffeine blast to help her enter full-on human being mode.

“Lucky for you, it’s a half day of talks.” Gloria munched on a cream cheese-covered bagel. “Team building exercises this afternoon.”

“That sounds like fun, I guess. As long as there’s no sky-diving.” She hadn’t completely hated the jump she’d done with the Hansons, but Tessa still had no desire to make leaping out of planes a habit.

“There are some choices. Zip lines, snorkeling, stand-up paddle boarding . . . that’s one I’m leaning toward.”

“That sounds fun. As long as I’ve got my balance back by then. I feel a little unsteady still.” Tessa’s stomach growled, and she started loading a plate with fruit because everything else seemed too heavy.

Gloria nodded approvingly. “That should help.”

By the time Tessa had finished eating, she was running late to the first presentation, The Grim Reality of Social Media. It was supposed to be about how to keep your reaper job secret in the age of cell phones and social media, and Tessa thought maybe it would give her some ideas about how to handle the situation with Silas.

There was only one empty chair in the small room when Tessa arrived, and she slid into it with a huff.

“You just made it,” the man next to her leaned over to say with a wink.

Tessa realized it was Lee Stuart. He looked bright-eyed and ready to go, unlike her. The food and coffee had made Tessa feel better, but she still felt like another couple hours of sleep would be beneficial.

“Yeah. In the nick of time.” She pulled out a notebook and pen and settled into the chair.

“This should be a good talk. Preston Peters, out of the LA office, is one of my best reapers. I’m sure he’ll have some good tips to share.” He eyed Tessa for a minute. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m from Mist River, Michigan.”

He nodded. “Ah. One of Cheryl’s crew.” He paused, squinting as though trying to see something better. “I’d give you my condolences at having to work under her part of the organization, but I’m a gentleman, so I’ll keep those thoughts to myself.” He laughed at his own joke. “How are you enjoying the conference so far?”

“Oh, you know, I’m trying to soak up all the information I can. Just listening to all the more experienced reapers and all that. They’re a wealth of knowledge. But I’m really looking forward to when I’m not the newbie anymore, when I can share some wisdom with somebody.” She cast a sidelong glance at him, wondering if it was a good idea to say the next thing. With an internal shrug, she threw caution to the wind. “You know, someone mentioned to me that you and April have a friendly competition thing going on.”

“Friendly. Yeah. Okay, we’ll go with friendly.” He smirked. “But it’s not really a competition. It’s April trying to keep up with me. She’s always eating my dust.”

Tessa had a feeling that was a gross exaggeration, but she nodded amicably. “She’s probably distracted right now by the accounting glitch going on.”

“She better fix it soon. Or I’ll handily win the supervisor of the year award at the end of the conference. And this will be, what, the third year in a row. Not that I’m keeping track.” He winked again.

“She thinks someone in the Chicago office screwed something up.”

Lee scoffed. “April’s just looking for a scapegoat. If there’s been an accounting glitch, it came directly from her own office.” He leaned closer to whisper, “Timothy is the brains between the two of them, but he’s been known to make mistakes like this before.”

“You think he made the accounting mistake? How? Did he forget to record some assignments?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it. He probably got distracted by a sci-fi marathon on late-night TV or something. Guy’s a total geek. I’m more of a sports guy myself. Do you like sports?”

“Baseball,” she said without thinking.

“America’s pastime,” Lee approved.

She wanted to ask more about the accounting issue, but Preston Peters tapped the microphone on his lapel, calling the presentation to order. She settled for doodling a picture of Timothy with a ketchup stain on his lapel during the talk, hoping for a chance to ask Lee more questions when it was over. But the supervisor got up before Preston finished talking, squeezed behind Tessa’s chair, and left.

The next couple of hours dragged by with two more boring presentations, then Tessa met up with Gloria for lunch before the team-building exercises. They pored over the pamphlet that listed their choices as they munched on sandwiches and chips.

Tessa pointed to one that looked interesting to her. “How about we do this before the stand-up paddle board lesson?”

“An escape room?” Gloria considered for a moment and then shrugged. “Sure, why not? You feeling sharp enough to solve a mystery?”

Tessa chuckled. “I’m perfectly fine. The food and coffee helped, plus I basically slept through this morning’s presentations with my eyes open. I’m going to try to get to bed early tonight, though.”

“Good idea.”

The escape room was set up in a dingy, out-of-the-way room in the hotel basement. Soon, Tessa was engrossed in the experience of solving a set of clues in order to find the key to unlock the door. Where usually, it was the whole group trying to escape the room, they’d made this into a competition to get out first. Gloria and Tessa partnered up against three other reaper pairs, including Bubba and Shirley, who turned out to be their biggest rivals.

In the end, Shirley figured it out moments before they did.

“Ha!” Bubba jabbed a finger at Tessa and Gloria. “You guys owe us a drink!”

Tessa laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll buy you a bottle of cheap domestic. But you have to promise us a rematch next year.”

Gloria glanced at her watch. “We’re going to have to hurry if we want to make it to the paddle board lesson.” She pulled Tessa’s arm.

They hurried out of the hotel, past the dock where a group was gathering for snorkeling, toward the designated meeting spot on the beach for the paddle board excursion. As they got closer, Tessa slowed down. April and Lee were there, along with Preston, Cynthia, and Timothy. She considered bolting and going snorkeling instead. Hanging out with the two district supervisors really didn’t strike her as a good time. But Gloria grabbed her arm and kept marching forward.

Man, the woman really wanted to paddle board.

A man in board shorts and a rash guard scurried around, fitting people with lifejackets and boards and explaining the basics of stand-up paddle boarding. Timothy flitted around for a few minutes but then said, “Okay. Looks like you’re in good hands, April. I’m going to head over and make sure everything’s going well with the snorkeling contingency.”

April ignored her assistant completely, and he left after an awkward silence.

If my boss was that mean, I’d be looking for a new job. Cheryl might be a little on the critical side and she had an annoying habit of using Tessa’s full name, but she wasn’t outright mean.

As she watched Timothy leave, a thought occurred to Tessa. Lee had said Timothy was the brains behind the operation at the eastern division’s office. He himself had bragged to Tessa that he kept the accounting registers for the agencies in the district. Could he be behind Art’s unaccounted for death somehow?

Tessa wouldn’t blame him for wanting to make April look bad—she was horrible to him.

But she didn’t have much time to ponder the thought because raised voices drew her attention. April and Lee faced off a few feet from each other. April’s face was twisted in fury. “Don’t dish it if you can’t take it, man. I’m only offering a standard bet—just like we always wager. Too scared to take it?”

Lee smirked. “When have I ever been afraid to take a bet with you?”

“Then what’s the issue?”

"You haven’t laid down fair terms. We’re both beginners, so there has to be some leeway. I propose we each get a little practice time before we start the timer. Then, it’s on. Whoever stays on longest wins.”

April shrugged. “If you need a couple of free falls into the ocean, that’s fine. It’ll just give me time to get sea legs, so to speak. Does five minutes sound fair?”

"More than.”

She smiled devilishly. “Then I’ll be accepting my steak dinner voucher from you within five minutes’ time. Let’s go.” She grabbed her paddle board and splashed into the water.

The instructor, alarm plastered over his bronze face, said, “Wait! I need to go over some basics first.”

But April continued as though she hadn’t heard him.

Lee gave a small shake of his head, picked up his board, and advanced more slowly into the surf.

The instructor brushed a hand through his sandy blond hair and appeared flummoxed. Finally, he grabbed his own board and waved an arm for the rest of the group to follow him. He began going over the basics of paddle boarding, speaking faster than Tessa believed he normally did.

April climbed on her board, stood up, and began to use the paddle to move forward. Lee watched for about half a second and then leaped onto his own board, taking only a moment to balance, and then he too advanced into the small waves.

“They’re something else, aren’t they?” Tessa said over her shoulder to Gloria.

But her friend didn’t answer.

Tessa climbed onto her board, sitting with a leg thrown over each side, and twisted to see what was going on.

Gloria was in the water, clutching the paddle board like it was her only anchor in a stormy sea. Her face was slack, eyes wide. Tessa saw something in her friend she’d never seen before: fear.

Tessa bit back a laugh. The water couldn’t be much calmer. It was suitable for toddlers, and they weren’t out deep yet. “Hold onto the far side of the board and kick,” she called. “That’ll give you the momentum to get onto it.”

Gloria maneuvered the paddle board slowly to the position Tessa recommended. She hoisted her body up, kicking madly, resembling nothing so much as a huge seal clambering up onto a rocky ledge.

This time, Tessa couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “There you go. You got it.” She popped up onto her feet and stood, balancing with the paddle in her hand. “Now, just get to the center of the board and stand up. It’s not hard. Keep your center of gravity under you and just sort of . . . feel the water. Move with it.”

Gloria shot her a look that clearly said what on earth are you babbling on about? She inched forward on her belly, trying to get closer to the center of the board. But she went too far and, before it was possible for her to do anything to stop herself, plunged head-first off the far edge of the board into the water.

Tessa laughed and used her paddle to turn back toward her friend. The rest of the group was further out, watching April and Lee compete for who could stay on their board the longest.

Gloria’s head popped up, her life jacket helping her get upright. She sputtered, coughed, and splashed. “Argh,” she cried.

Tessa paddled closer. “Are you okay?”

More sputtering was the only answer.

Then something caught Tessa’s attention in the water near Gloria.

No. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

Tessa, being from Michigan, had always felt safe in the water. There was no salt and there were no sharks or other crazy marine life that could kill you. You just had to respect the power of the Great Lakes. And the cold. They were always cold.

But that wasn’t the case here. Here, the warm and clear waters harbored sharks.

And Tessa had never, ever expected to see one, but there it was—within a few feet of Gloria, its dorsal fin looking just like they did in movies. Until that moment, she hadn’t even believed that was really a thing outside of Jaws and its many imitators.

For a moment, Tessa froze. She didn’t know what to do. Should she shout, “Shark!” again, like they do in movies? Should she alert the instructor and everyone else?

It didn’t take her long to dismiss that idea. It would only panic Gloria, and that probably wasn’t the best idea. In fact, Tessa needed to get her friend to calm down and stop acting like a flopping fish in the water.

She maneuvered her paddle boat carefully between the shark and Gloria. Her heart pounded wildly, but Tessa ignored it, focusing only on the two beings in the water. Time seemed to slow down as she forced her breathing to calm. She told herself Gloria wasn’t going to die. There was no reaper around, ready to escort her soul over the veil.

That was when she saw Lydia standing on the beach. She wasn’t watching April’s and Lee’s antics. She was staring right at Gloria.

No. No, no, no, no.

Tessa spoke as calmly as possible but infused her tone with authority. “Gloria. Stop splashing now. There’s a problem, and I need you to do what I say.”

The other reaper looked at Tessa’s face. She must have seen something there because she stilled.

“Okay. Grab the far side of paddleboard with both hands. Pull it toward yourself and then kick . . . calmly . . . to get yourself up. Do it now.”

Gloria did what Tessa said, and Tessa glanced at the shark. It seemed to have stopped swimming and was just sort of hovering there, as though it were watching. Waiting.

Tessa gulped and turned her attention back to Gloria, who was about halfway onto the paddle board. Tessa glanced at the shore.

Lydia was gone.

By the time she looked back, Gloria was on her knees on the board.

The shark’s fin changed directions and the creature sped off, toward the dock.

Tessa blew out a breath. “Hey, what do you say we head to shore? I think I’m done paddle boarding.”

“I’m with you.” Gloria didn’t stand up. She used her hands to doggy paddle her way back to the sand.

They got out of the water, and Gloria laid on her back on the beach, panting and staring at the sky. Her black hair was matted to her head, drenched.

Tessa giggled and sat next to her friend.

“How come you’re so good at that and I’m so horrible?” Gloria grumbled.

Tessa shrugged. “I have no idea. But it was fun! Thanks for insisting on it.” Okay, it hadn’t actually been fun. But Tessa didn’t think Gloria really needed to know about the shark. “Let’s put our gear away.”

They both got up and carried their paddle boards back to the small building.

Gloria sighed, “Honestly, I was hoping my hair wouldn’t get wet or else we’d have gone snorkeling. Now, I need to go back to the room and get changed and redo my hair.”

As they approached the dock in front of the hotel, Tessa realized something was going on. An ambulance, silent but with lights flashing, was parked as close to the water as possible, and a crowd had gathered around it. For as many people as were there, the atmosphere was almost dead quiet. It felt eerie.

Tessa and Gloria stood on tiptoes at the back of the crowd, craning their necks to get a glimpse of what was going on. In front of them, people silently shifted, letting the two women maneuver their way through. In fact, it seemed as though many people were easing away from the scene.

When they got to a clear spot, Tessa immediately knew why people would be get away.

There was blood all over the dock and in the water.

She heard the word shark filter through the crowd. A few reapers stood dripping water, towels wrapped around them, snorkels and masks pushed onto their heads. Everywhere, there were pale, shocked faces.

Tessa forced herself to look at the injured person the EMTs were working on. It was clear their efforts would be fruitless—no one could survive injuries like that. It had to be the same shark she’d seen. The one that had considered attacking Gloria. It must have found easier prey by the dock.

“Who is it?” she whispered, straining to see something that would help her identify the dead reaper.

Gloria, also a degree paler than usual, gave her a wide-eyed look and whispered back, “It’s Cynthia.”

Chapter 10

TESSA AND GLORIA RETREATED from the front of the crowd, slipping past other reapers. Near the back, they found Bubba, standing with his arms crossed. He wore swim trunks and dripped onto the grass. For once, his expression wasn’t joyful.

“What happened?” Gloria asked.

He grimaced. “Shark attack.”

“We got that much.” Gloria glared at him.

“I’m wondering who took her over?” Tessa said.

“I didn’t see anyone do it.” Bubba shrugged and shook his head. “Terrible way to go.”

Tessa agreed with the other reaper’s sentiments, but her attention was captured by someone else. She elbowed Gloria and nodded toward Timothy, who was just leaving the dock. He looked like the poster boy for a Casper movie trailer—his face was so pale it seemed incompatible with being alive.

Tessa whispered to Gloria, “Did you see that? Timothy looked rattled.”

Gloria’s eyes tracked Timothy’s back as he headed for the hotel. “He looks shaken, for sure.”

Tessa went to ask Bubba if he’d seen Timothy at the scene, but his back was turned as he spoke to Preston in hushed tones.

––––––––

SHE QUIZZED GLORIA with her query instead. “Do you think he had something to do with it?”

“He’s not a reaper. He’s a numbers guy. Sure, he’s around reapers a lot and deals with death, but only on the periphery. I don’t think he has much cause to be up-front-and-center like us. He’s probably freaked out at the sight of all the blood. Plus, he knew Cynthia. A little bit, anyway. It’s possible he’s never seen anyone die before.” She glanced back toward the horrible scene. “Especially so violently.”

“You’re probably right.” Tessa chewed her bottom lip, thinking about how Timothy had seemed in a hurry to leave the paddle board area and get to the snorkeling session. It didn’t make sense. Sure, he was a numbers guys. An allocations guy, to be exactl. And allocations meant death.

But why would he do that? And, assuming Art’s death had been arranged by the same person as Cynthia’s, what would Timothy’s motive have been?

The EMTs got Cynthia’s body into the ambulance, and the vehicle left without its flashers or sirens on. The crowd on the dock dissipated, everyone going off in separate directions, moving slowly.

When they were finally back in the hotel lobby, Gloria said, “Want to get a drink?”

Tessa shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m not really feeling it.”

“You’re right.” Gloria sighed. “Going to the bar right now is a bad idea. Tell you what. How about we head back to the room and order room service on the company card?” She waggled her eyebrows.

Tessa blinked. “Company card? What are you talking about?”

“Oops.” Gloria winced. “I figured Cheryl gave you one too.” She pulled a black credit card out of her back pocket and waved it under Tessa’s nose. “I keep it close in case I get hungry. And I’m always hungry. We get to comp our food while we’re here. I thought you knew.”

Through gritted teeth, Tessa said, “No. She didn’t give me one of those.”

She thought of Silas using Mrs. Cross’ money to buy expensive meals for them—money he could be saving for less expensive meals out with her when they got back home. Only, Tessa wasn’t ready to think about what they were going to be when they were back home. She wanted to live in the here and now. After all, not every day was guaranteed. Just ask Cynthia.

“Can I borrow that tomorrow?” she asked. “I think Silas and I need to go on a dining spree. I’m feeling a little ravenous from all the learning I’ve been doing.”

Gloria dissolved into giggles. “You’re going to get me fired. But yeah, you can borrow it. Anything to help you two lovebirds realize you’re perfect for each other.”

They headed for the elevator. “Why don’t you spend as much time focused on your own love life as you do mine?”

Gloria gave her a sidelong look and a mischievous grin. “Maybe I do.”

Tessa’s jaw dropped for a second, then she scowled at her friend. “Oh, I see how it is. You get to keep your cards close to the vest to avoid my input but, in the meantime, you just carry on with all your delightful commentary about my love live? I mean, about my friendship with Silas.”

Gloria shook her head as they got on the elevator. “Nah, I’m kidding. I’m not dating anyone right now. Just living vicariously through you. The meet-cute is the best part. But as soon as I’m interested in someone, I’ll let you know.”

Tessa’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket to find a text from Abi: Your evil cat left a hairball for me to step on in the kitchen. Then she looked smug. Have I said to get a new cat-sitter next time? If not, I’m saying it.

Tessa texted back: That’s how she shows love. You are her chosen one—forever and always Pepper’s cat sitter.

A second later, Abi replied: Promise you’ll bring home wine AND chocolate if you want me to even consider not strangling this creature.

Chuckling, Tessa shook her head and texted back: I will bring payment. Unless . . . Pepper beats me to it.

What does that even mean? Does she bring you mice? Am I going to find a mouse? Tessa? Really???

Have fun! Xoxo

As they entered the hotel room, Gloria said, “Weren’t you supposed to hang out with Silas tonight?”

Tessa flopped onto the bed and threw an arm over her eyes in her best impression of Scarlet O’Hara. “Yes. But I don’t think I’m up for it. I just want to watch a funny movie and eat until my sides burst.”

“I’m already on that second part.” Gloria waved the room service menu in the air and picked up the room phone to place an order.

Tessa sat up and scrolled on her phone until she found Silas’s name. She tapped it and waited for him to answer.

“Hey! Done with the team-building stuff already?”

“Yes.” She winced. “But it ended kind of badly. One of our agents was killed in a shark attack.”

She heard him suck in a breath. “That’s . . . pretty terrible and not at all what I expected you to say. Wow. How are you holding up?”

“Okay, I guess. But would you blame me if I’m not really up for going out tonight? Is that all right with you?” She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Actually, that works out fine because I had a little incident today myself. I could use some rest.”

“Incident? What incident?” She felt a twang of alarm.

“Jellyfish sting. And, no, I didn’t do that thing they say to do to make jellyfish stings feel better. I was on a crowded beach. And I don’t know yoga.”

“How bad is it?”

“It’s pretty swollen. I took a bunch of Ibuprofen and I think I’m going to crash early.”

Tessa blew out a breath. “Okay. Well, I hope you feel better. Talk to you tomorrow.”

They hung up, and Tessa sprawled out on the bed. Gloria had turned on the TV before going into the bathroom. Tessa stared at the ceiling and thought again about how Timothy had looked when he’d retreated from the dock.

But before she had much time to think about it, there was a knock on the door. She dragged herself off the bed and opened it to find a bellhop with a cart so loaded with food it was fairly he’d managed to push it without losing a bunch. There were appetizers, steaks, seafood, a whole chocolate cake, and milkshakes—the kind that come in glasses with a mound of whipped cream and a cherry on top.

Good grief.

Gloria really knew how to leverage a spending account.

Chapter 11

“TODAY’S SESSIONS ARE canceled.” April’s face revealed more lines than usual, as if she’d stayed up all night after Cynthia’s death. She paused, pursing her lips for a few seconds before continuing. “Our thoughts and condolences are with Cynthia’s family during this difficult time.”

They were in the main conference room. It was only about half full. Many of the other reapers must’ve known this was coming and had chosen to sleep in. But the caterer hadn’t gotten the memo. Tessa guiltily pushed away her plate, piled high with breakfast food. After gorging themselves on room service, and with the thought of Cynthia’s death back on her mind, she was in no mood to eat.

She only wished April was more forthcoming with information. Surely, this wasn’t planned. And none of the reapers who had been snorkeling seemed to have seen much, including her soul or anyone taking her to the other side.

April cleared her throat. “We need everyone to stay on-site and be prepared for questioning as we investigate these strange occurrences.” Without a proper closing, April left the stage and the dull roar of conversation rose in the room.

Gloria, with the metabolism of a hummingbird and apparently not plagued with the same stomach-turning visions as Tessa, spoke around a mouthful of sausage. “Well, I guess we’re stuck here for the day. What are you going to do?”

Tessa shrugged. “There’s not much to do.”

“Let’s see.” Gloria quirked her lips in mock thought. “Since I’m living vicariously through you. I say you invite hottie landlord to hang out at the pool.” Gloria grinned and popped a grape into her mouth. “Besides, your tan could use some work.”

Tessa raised an eyebrow.

“What? Dragon-lady didn’t say we couldn’t have visitors. She just said we couldn’t leave. I’m going to book myself a full day at the spa upstairs. So, if they want to question me—they’ll have to find me first.”

“A spa day does sound good . . .”

“You are not invited. Again, if I were in your shoes, I’d be with that hottie. I’m only taking the second-best option so that you and he can be alone. I’m not a third wheel.” A sly grin spread across her face.

“Fine.” Tessa pulled her plate back, her growling stomach, having valiantly fought off the nausea, now demanded sustenance. “Anyway, I wouldn’t want Silas to find out I had a whole day off and didn’t call him. After all, he’s only in Miami because I suggested it.”

“Atta girl.” Gloria bumped Tessa’s shoulder with her own. “You two are perfect for each other. So, stop being all . . . Tessa . . . and catch that hunk o’ man, already.”

“The problem is I can never stop being Tessa.” She gave up the pipe dream of a healthy breakfast and started in on a cruller.

“Well, you can be Tessa, but just don’t be that Tessa.”

The aforementioned Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Which Tessa would that be again?”

“The one who overthinks everything. Be spontaneous Tessa instead.”

“That’s ridiculous. Besides, I used to be spontaneous, and that’s how I ended up with Frank.”

“That’s a story you’re gonna have to tell me someday.”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Then write a new story. A better one.” Gloria didn’t say any more. She just grinned, winked, and stuffed some toast with jam in her mouth.

After breakfast, Tessa texted Silas. He responded almost immediately, letting her know he needed to change but would come right over after that.

With a little flutter of nerves in her belly, Tessa got into her suit and headed to the pool. It was outdoors, with palm trees lining the edges of the blue and green-tiled deck. The water glistened invitingly.

There was a smattering of people there, mostly other reapers, who Tessa avoided. She found a small empty table with an umbrella to put her bag on, then settled into a lounge chair next to it. She leaned back, closed her eyes, and let the sun soak into her skin.

“Is this chair taken?”

Tessa’s eyes popped open. She expected to see Silas—to hear Silas’s voice—but instead, her heart sped up when she recognized the tall man she’d seen in the hallway on the first day of the conference.

He wore black swim trunks, and his dark, shoulder-length hair was now caught up in a black leather band. The man looked like he’d never eaten a carb in his life. She was glad dark sunglasses hid his strange eyes.

Tessa realized too much time had gone by since he’d asked about the lounge chair next to her. “No. I mean yes. Um, actually, my friend is coming in a few minutes,” she stammered.

He smiled, revealing those predatory teeth, and lowered himself into the chair without acknowledging what she’d said. He leaned back and smiled. “Ah. This is the life, is it not?”

What an odd speech pattern. Like he was European or something. Or straight out of a Victorian romance novel. “Y . . . yes. It’s really nice. Are you here for the conference?” The guy did give off subtle reaper vibes, but she hadn’t seen him attending any of the presentations or in the buffet lines.

He glanced her way and then returned to facing the sun. “I’m here to observe the conference, yes. Mainly, I am enjoying cocktails and surfing. There were some gnarly waves yesterday.”

Tessa felt her eyebrows rise. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a surfer dude. “I think I missed your name before. I’m Tessa.” He’d already demonstrated he knew that, of course, but her midwestern politeness didn’t care.

“My name is Corwin Blade.” His fingers laced over cut abdomen muscles.

Blade. She’d heard that name recently. Where was it?

“Nice to meet you, Corwin.” She tried to watch him without being obvious about it. The man had such an unusual energy about him. If she had to explain it, the word she’d choose would be ancient. But that was crazy. The guy didn’t look a day over thirty.

“And Tessa, how are you enjoying your new job?”

“It’s great. Except for the fact that my co-workers seem to be dying disproportionately.” She winced, not sure that was a proper topic of conversation. But she couldn’t help herself. “Do you know anything about that? About poor Cynthia or Art? April says their deaths are unaccounted for.”

He waved a hand. “I gave up on handling the mundane details of reaper work a long . . . long time ago.” He tipped his head to look at her.

It was a bit disconcerting not to be able to see his eyes through the dark glasses. But Tessa knew from experience that being able to see them was just as unnerving.

“Oh, are you retired or something?” As soon as she said it, Tessa knew that was ridiculous. Corwin Blade was nowhere near retirement age.

He chuckled, and the sound reminded her inexplicably of metal gears grinding. A shiver skittered up her spine, and she glanced around to make sure there were still people nearby. No one was sparing a glance in their direction.

“I guess you could say I’m retired, yes. I’ve delegated all my responsibilities to others. I serve in a much more advisory capacity now. But, if necessary, I’ll step in and handle this current situation.” He returned his head to a straight position. “It’s not likely that I’ll need to, though. My people are quite capable. Especially the head of the task force on unaccounted-for deaths. Top-notch, that one. A real go-getter.”

“That’s good. I guess.” Tessa threw her legs over the side of the lounger, deciding it was time to put some distance between herself and the strange man. “It was nice meeting you. I think I’m going to get a drink from the bar.”

He wiggled his fingers in a cutesy wave. “Have fun.”

Tessa grabbed her bag and took a few steps before his voice stopped her.

“One more thing.” His words lingered in ears. “Should you ever need it, the power of the Scythe is always within your grasp. You need only call for it.”

She turned back toward the chairs, but Blade was no longer on his lounger. He was standing a couple of inches away from her. She forced herself not to shriek or jump backward. “The . . . Scythe?”

“It’s my strongest power. And sometimes I loan it out to people who work for me. But only those who are the most promising. The smartest. Reapers with the greatest of potential.” He grinned. “Like you.”

Slowly, as though the gears in her brain were grinding, his words made sense. “You’re . . .”

“I’m late for a date with a fine young lady and a coconut-flavored drink,” he finished. “Have a lovely day, Tessa Randolph. And remember what I said about the Scythe.” He saluted with the tip of his finger on his sunglasses and then strode across the pool deck toward the hotel, brushing past Silas as he went.

Silas rubbed his arm but didn’t look at Blade. He spotted Tessa, smiled, and walked over to her. “Hey! Sorry it took me so long. I got locked out of my hotel room and had to get them to make me a new pass key.” His eyes moved down to her feet and back up to her eyes. He swallowed hard. “You look . . . I mean you look . . . wow.”

“Thanks,” she barely acknowledged the compliment. Her eyes were still on Blade’s back. “That man has a strange energy, doesn’t he?”

Silas’s gaze followed hers, and then his brow furrowed. He looked back at her. “What man?”

“The one I was talking to just now.” She took in Silas’s bewildered expression and realized the truth too late. Her landlord hadn’t been able to see Blade. She waved a hand. “Never mind. I guess he slipped into the changing room. I’m sure he was gone before you came out onto the deck.” She smiled. “I was just going to get a cocktail. Do you want one?”

His face smoothed, and he grinned back at her. “Something coconutty sounds nice.”

“Yeah. They have that. It’s called a piña colada.”

“I’ll take one for each hand.” He smiled.

As they headed toward the pool bar, Tessa glanced at the door Blade had disappeared through. She had no further doubt about the man’s identity, but she couldn’t help but feel a little concerned about his motives.

Why had the original Grim Reaper taken a special interest in her?

Chapter 12

SHE IGNORED THE BUZZING purse as long as possible, even moving it from the back of her chair to the floor so it would be quieter. Tessa was enjoying dinner with Silas at Rio Italiana, the nicest restaurant in the hotel. She’d curled her hair and put on makeup that was actually visible without squinting. Gloria’s guidance, of course. Her friend had even done her wings—so they were symmetrical for once.

She felt pretty, and they were having a nice time. Silas looked like a bronze statue. He was relaxed and telling funny stories. And Tessa felt relaxed too.

Except for that buzzing phone.

Finally, with an apologetic look at Silas, she leaned over and dug it out of her purse. “I should have left this thing at the hotel.”

He waved a hand. “Go ahead and take it. Could be important.”

Tessa glanced at the screen, which confirmed what she’d known in her gut. “It’s definitely not important. It’s my mother.” She slid the bar on the screen. “Hi. I’m kinda busy. What’s up?”

“Busy? Busy doing what? It’s eight-thirty. You should be getting ready for bed. I already have my mask on.”

Tessa rubbed her forehead, trying not to envision Cheryl with a bunch of green goo spread all over her face. “Mom! I’m at dinner. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I heard about poor Cynthia and wanted to see how the investigation is going.”

Something in her tone made Tessa sit up straighter and pay closer attention. “I, uh, I don’t really know. April’s dealing with that. I haven’t been questioned or anything. How’d you know about it?”

She remembered that Cheryl had known about Art’s death too. There must be some kind of reaper grapevine that Tessa wasn’t privy to yet. Maybe if she ever got a management position, she would be.

Briefly, Tessa wondered if the reaper grapevine worked by phone or email or something more archaic, like messenger bats or something. She knew the answer. The agency was so bureaucratic. It had to be email. But then there was Corwin Blade’s message to her, something about a scythe? That was pretty arcane.

Of course, even if Cheryl knew what had happened through mystical means, Tessa couldn’t question her too much about it at the moment. Silas sat two feet away from her, munching on a piece of garlic bread and having no idea his dining companion reaped the souls of the dead for a living.

She’d like to keep it that way as long as possible. Like, forever.

Cheryl spoke again, pulling Tessa out of her reverie with a vague answer. “Oh, I hear about things like this right away. So, do you have any idea what’s going on? Are the souls lost? Or were they ever allocated?”

Tessa’s eyes narrowed. “No. Why would I? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You were so good at finding Chet’s soul, dear, that’s all.”

There was a pause on the line, during which Tessa’s mind scrambled, trying to figure out Cheryl’s endgame.

She got nowhere. Tessa had never been able to outsmart her mother. Her eyes flitted to Silas, who had finished the garlic bread and was digging into his pasta with the zeal of someone who’d spent all day in the sun and needed some calories.

She turned her body a bit, hoping to shield the mouthpiece so Silas would be less likely to hear Cheryl’s voice wafting out. Tessa said, “Well, I don’t believe April would exactly welcome my help.”

“That may be. But if someone down there doesn’t figure this out, I’ll have to . . .” She trailed off, leaving only silence on the line again.

“You’ll have to what?”

“Oh, nothing, dear. I was just thinking out loud. Go. Finish up dinner and get to bed. Your notes will suffer on less than eight hours of sleep. Nighty-night.” Cheryl made a kiss-kiss noise and disconnected.

Silas glanced up from his spaghetti Bolognese. “Everything okay?”

“Well, my mom is nuts, but that’s status quo. So, I guess everything’s fine.” She chuckled and tucked her purse away after silencing it. Then, she dove into the food in front of her.

The rest of the meal was pleasant, but only part of Tessa’s attention was on the conversation. She kept thinking about her mom’s half-sentence. What would Cheryl have to do if the mysteries of Art’s and Cynthia’s unaccounted-for deaths weren’t solved?

After dinner, Silas and Tessa strolled slowly through the hotel.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” Silas offered.

“Okay, but let’s take the elevator because I can’t climb stairs with that tiramisu weighing me down.”

“You got it.” His hand found its way to the small of Tessa’s back, giving her a little chill, as they headed for the lobby, where he punched the elevator button for her floor. “That was an excellent dessert, though. Worth not being able to climb stairs for.” Silas rubbed his flat belly and radiated satisfaction.

“I have to agree with you there. Stairs are overrated anyway. Elevators are the way to go.” She actually thought stairs may have been invented by the Grim Reaper. To kill people faster, by heart attack. Having met the man and felt his predatory gaze, she wouldn’t put it past him.

She shook her head to clear out the image of the creepy Corwin Blade, drawing a questioning glance from Silas. Luckily, the elevator doors opened before he could question her.

Gloria and a few other reapers tumbled out into the lobby. They all wore pajamas. Gloria had on her hedgehog slippers. When she saw Tessa, she grabbed her elbow. “Emergency session,” she said. “Come on.”

Confusion clouded Silas’s features. “You’re having an emergency life insurance presentation at nine-thirty pm?”

Gloria shook her head. “This is about the agent who was killed by a shark, I think. They want to give us some information about her memorial. Or, you know, something. Sorry to steal Tessa away from you. Bye, now!” She pulled on Tessa’s arm.

This was new. Usually, Gloria was shoving Tessa toward Silas, not trying to lead her away.

Over her shoulder, Tessa called, “Goodnight! I’ll text you in the morning.”

“Thanks for dinner!” Silas gave a little wave and headed for the door, still looking a bit baffled.

“What is this all about?” Tessa hissed, pulling her elbow out of Gloria’s grip.

She shrugged. “I got a call that we needed to head to the main conference room for an emergency talk. You should’ve gotten one, too. That’s all I know.”

Tessa remembered her silenced phone. Oops.

As they filed into the conference room, Tessa caught a glimpse of April and Lee talking near where the buffet was set up in the morning. Lee’s arms were crossed, and he frowned. April was talking earnestly to him.

It took about ten minutes for the room to fill with reapers. Some looked like they’d just come from the hotel bars, and they swayed slightly. Others were wearing pajamas and had mussed hair, as if they’d been sleeping already.

Finally, April moved behind the podium and tapped the microphone. “Okay, everyone. I’m sorry to have needed to call you down at this hour. But we thought it was important for you all to know that we’ve sorted out the circumstances surrounding the spate of unaccounted for deaths we’ve had recently.” She paused, looking down as though consulting notes for a speech, even though the lectern was empty. No papers sat ready to help April know what to say.

The room was totally silent as everyone waited to hear the rest of the explanation. Or, as Tessa was thinking of it, for the other shoe to drop.

April pulled in a breath and looked up again. “It turns out, Cynthia was the problem all along. She failed to account for a few reaps in her home office. Then she missed reaping poor Art in the plane. And instead of admitting her mistakes or asking for help to fix the problem, we believe she simply made an allocation for herself to avoid coming clean.”

The room filled with gasps and murmurs.

Tessa felt her face scrunch. Did April just say Cynthia chose to die by shark? To avoid getting into work trouble?

Cynthia had seemed pretty miserable, virtually from the first moment Tessa saw her. Maybe April was right?

But then Tessa thought about what Lee had said. That if there was an accounting error, it was Timothy who was the probable culprit. And Tessa had spoken to Cynthia herself about the problem. The other reaper had been adamant she hadn’t messed up.

Tessa had believed her. She still did.

It was April who wasn’t telling the truth. Tessa was sure of it.

But why? And if Cynthia hadn’t allocated her own death, who had?

Chapter 13

THE NEXT MORNING, TESSA felt rejuvenated. A decent night’s sleep and she’d only gorged herself on tiramisu, unlike the previous night with Gloria and room service.

As she showered, Tessa came up with a game plan for the day. She wasn’t as convinced as April that Cynthia was responsible for the deaths—especially her own death. So, she was going to follow Timothy to the sessions he attended. Of course, she realized the potentially major flaw in her plan. Timothy’s sessions were likely to be the ones April attended too.

And Tessa really didn’t want to be stuck in a seat next to April. Like Cheryl, she’d probably expect Tessa to take notes.

Oh, well. Something fishy was going on, and Tessa had made up her mind to figure out what it was. Timothy was her biggest—well, her only—lead so far.

“Oof.” Tessa surveyed the buffet table with a hand on her belly. “I can’t do this to myself every day. I still haven’t hit the gym.”

Gloria wrinkled her nose. “You know, after last night, I’ve lost my appetite too. Coffee only.”

“So, you aren’t convinced either?”

“That Cynthia reaped herself?” Gloria raised a well-groomed eyebrow. “Of course not. I told your mother as much in an email earlier this morning.”

“You did?”

“It's nothing. And don’t worry. I told her you were a lovely roommate.”

As they sipped coffee in the main conference room, Tessa kept an eye out for Timothy.

“What sessions are you going to attend today?” Gloria pushed her schedule sheet over so Tessa could see it.

Tessa shrugged. “I’m not sure.” But she didn’t look at the schedule—she found Timothy. He sat alone at a table and dug into a bowl of cereal. Within seconds, he’d splashed milk on his lapel and batted at it with a fistful of napkins.

“How to Relax When the Reaping’s Done sounds good,” Gloria mused. “I believe we already proved we have a handle on that with the company credit cart. How about What to Talk About to Decrease Awkwardness on the Way to the Light.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Tessa had decided not to tell Gloria about her plan to follow Timothy. If she did, Gloria would probably either insist on joining Tessa, making it harder to be subtle about it, or try to talk her out of it, which she didn’t have time for.

Timothy got up, put his bowl in a dish tub by the door, and headed out of the conference room.

Tessa shot to her feet. “I, uh, have to go to the bathroom before the first session. I’ll catch you later. Save me a seat.” She was gone before Gloria could utter a word.

In the hallway, she scanned every direction for Timothy’s ill-fitting burgundy suitcoat. She just caught a glimpse of it as he rounded a corner. Tessa hurried that direction. But by the time she got around the corner herself, he was nowhere to be seen.

Wow. For such a clumsy guy, he actually has good shadow skills. He could give Bubba some tips.

Tessa rushed forward, glancing into each of the doorways as she passed through the hallway. But Timothy wasn’t in any of them.

At an intersection with another hallway, she stopped and peeked around the corner. She looked left. There were quite a few reapers milling around there, but she couldn’t spot tall, thin Timothy. When she turned to the right, a burgundy blur pushed through a doorway midway down the hall.

Tessa ran to catch up, thanking herself for not wearing heels that day. She leaned against the wall for a few minutes and counted slowly to forty before entering the room herself.

Timothy sat next to April in the front row. Tessa took a seat at the very back of the room.

The presenter, a reaper Tessa didn’t know, had a sunny attitude and, if Tessa hadn’t been focusing on Timothy so much, would have been fun to listen to. She was talking about how to get the most out of your day as a reaper—planning and scheduling your day so you could be given more assignments.

Tessa kept her eyes on Timothy. About fifteen minutes into the presentation, he looked at his watch, grabbed the notebook he’d been jotting in, and slipped out of the chair.

Tessa leaned over her own notebook, letting long hair fall forward to thwart Timothy’s recognition. Had he noticed her? She counted slowly to twenty, grabbed her stuff, and darted after him.

He was nowhere to be seen. The hallway that was bustling earlier was now empty, as everyone was in their morning session.

Where is he? Had he gone back toward the hotel lobby? That made the most sense. The majority of the conference rooms where in that direction. Or maybe he’d wanted to go to two talks that were scheduled at the same time and decided to go halfsies.

She started in that direction but then hesitated and glanced the other way. The only thing there was a set of double doors that said Exit. One of them wasn’t closed completely, as though someone had slipped out of it and not delivered enough momentum for the thing to swing back shut all the way.

Her brow furrowed. Why would Timothy leave the building? Did he need a smoke break or something? Tessa had never seen him with a cigarette, but she hadn’t exactly been following him around everywhere before either. The guy, with his accountant-like aura, mostly blended in with the scenery.

Tessa opened the door cautiously and stuck her head outside. The sun was so bright she couldn’t see anything for a minute. She blinked several times and held a hand to her forehead to shield her vision. Timothy was walking down a sidewalk that bordered the back of the hotel.

She eased out, holding the door until it closed so it wouldn’t make noise. She dug in her purse for the sunglasses she’d bought with Silas, glad she had them with her even though she hadn’t been planning to go outside that morning. Once they were on, her eyes were much more comfortable. She started after Timothy, making sure to stay far enough behind that it hopefully wouldn’t trigger his sixth sense and let him know he was being followed.

At the end of the building, Timothy veered off across the perfectly manicured lawn, past a little courtyard with stone benches.

Where is he going?

Tessa tried to remember what Bubba had said during his talk about staying in the shadows. The main thing was to act normal. As much as possible, even forget yourself that you were following the person. That way, you wouldn’t be putting out energy that may draw their attention.

She tried to think about something other than following Timothy across the lawn. First, her thoughts landed on Abi and Pepper. A smile lifted her lips as she remembered the need to pick up some gifts for Abi to make up for her cat’s bad behavior. She should get Pepper a little something too. Poor kitty was probably just as irritated with Abi as the other way around.

The loud chirp of a bird startled her back to the moment. Her heart thudded faster as she remembered the mission. She scanned the landscape ahead for Timothy. He’d put more distance between them. The courtyard had given way to shorter, perfectly clipped grass.

In the distance, Tessa could see a few scattered golf carts.

Really? A golf course?

She couldn’t believe it. Since becoming a reaper, Tessa had found herself on a golf course roughly triple the number of times she’d ever set foot on one during the whole rest of her life combined.

Was this some kind of curse? Were golf courses to reaper Tessa what graveyards were to most ordinary folk?

She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and focused on Timothy. He’d stopped walking and stood, arms crossed, watching a group of golfers.

Tessa wanted to get as close as possible without being spotted by Timothy. There was a little creek to her left. She darted that direction and crouched in a patch of cattails, praying there were no alligators lurking there.

Then she stopped and blinked with the realization she wasn’t the only reaper around. Lydia was there too. That was even more odd.

Lydia was approaching from a slightly different direction as Tessa and Timothy. The golfers waved her over and one of them requested a bag of chips and a soda, as though Lydia worked for the golf course. Tessa couldn’t hear everything, but the scene was familiar. Her own first reap had been strikingly similar.

A moment later, one of the golfers stiffened and fell over. Tessa watched Lydia, in her grim reaper form, greet the man’s spirit and herd him toward a bright light that only the two reapers could see.

But Timothy’s gaze was right on them, above the other golfers. Could he see Lydia and the golfer’s spirit too?

A shout went up from one of the other golfers, stopping the spirit momentarily, who looked down on his own prone body in the grass.

“I think he had a stroke or something! He’s not breathing!”

The spirit looked sad. Lydia touched his arm, smiled, and drew his attention away from the ground and toward the sky.

Timothy nodded once, turned, and headed back across the course toward the hotel.

Tessa frowned. Why had Timothy taken it upon himself to watch Lydia reap a golfer? Why was Lydia even doing a reap here? Didn’t Miami have its own office?

At least one thing was for sure—following Timothy had given Tessa more to chew on. Much more.

Chapter 14

TESSA STAYED IN THE cattails until Lydia was done with the reap and heading back to the hotel. By then, the course had been swarmed by emergency and golf course personnel, and it was easy to blend in anyway.

Lydia went around to the front doors of the hotel. Tessa followed her inside. As soon as she set foot in the lobby, the scent of lunch wafted past Tessa’s nose, making her stomach growl. Apparently, skipping breakfast meant something to her body and she needed more sustenance.

The hall outside the main conference room was loaded with food. Reapers teemed around it, piling their plates with sandwiches, veggies, and chips. Tessa thought it was weird how only the day prior it had been deserted when they’d called off the sessions after Cynthia’s death. Today, it was like that had never happened. Business as usual—which only made sense because their business was death.

She didn’t see Timothy anywhere, so Tessa kept one eye on Lydia as they both filled their plates. When she went into the conference room to eat, Tessa was glad to see Lydia sat alone at a round table at the edge of the room. She made a beeline to her. She smiled politely. “Hi! Care for some company?”

“Sure!” Lydia motioned to an empty chair. “Knock yourself out.”

No sooner had Tessa settled in than Gloria appeared in the third chair at the table. She smiled brightly and then dug in.

“How are you doing, Lydia? You and Cynthia were friends, right?” Tessa took a bite of ham and cheese sandwich. At Lydia’s nod, she said around it, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“It was a shock. This whole conference has been full of rotten surprises.” Lydia picked up a carrot stick but put it down again without taking a bite. “First Art, then Cynthia. I don’t understand it.”

“But April has all figured out.” Tessa caught the sarcasm in Gloria’s tone.

“You think?” Lydia tilted her head.

“Well, let’s just say if she doesn’t, I hope she figures it out soon.” Gloria didn’t say them out loud, but the words before it happens again hung in the air.

Tessa had been trying to figure out how to bring the conversation around to what she really wanted to know. She waited for a moment after Gloria spoke so the change in topic would be less abrupt and then said, “Lydia, what presentations did you attend this morning? It’s so hard for me to choose which ones to go to and which ones to miss.”

Lydia shrugged. “Actually, I worked this morning. Didn’t go to any sessions.”

Gloria’s eyes snapped up at that. “Worked? You mean like you reaped someone?”

“Yeah. Timothy caught me before breakfast and told me to watch my reaper app. Said that life goes on and so does death. Or something sinister like that.” She blew a breath up at a curl bouncing into her eye. “It was a golfer having a stroke, which is kinda funny in a very morbid way. Timothy said that, because it was happening on the hotel’s golf course property, it made the most sense to assign a reaper from the conference to it.” She picked up a cherry tomato, examined it, and set it down again. “It was nice to get some fresh air, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” Gloria attacked her food with renewed zeal, satisfied with Lydia’s answer.

Lydia stood. “I guess I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m going to head to my room for a nap before afternoon sessions. See you gals later.”

Tessa watched the other reaper leave the room and then leaned over to Gloria. “That’s not the full scoop. Timothy followed Lydia to her assignment this morning. Stood there and watched her. It was like he could see the whole thing.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m pretty sure people in his position are given the gift of Sight. In case they need to do an audit or something. Sounds like that’s what he was doing with Lydia.” Gloria seemed nonplussed. She frowned at her empty plate. “I’m still hungry.”

Tessa still wasn’t satisfied. “But why would Timothy follow her today? During the conference. He left in the middle of a session to follow Lydia.”

Gloria glanced at Tessa. “And how, exactly, do you know that?”

She looked at her plate and mumbled, “Because I followed him.”

“Ah.” Gloria chuckled. “Well, maybe he wanted to make sure Lydia is doing things by the book. He’s April’s lackey, after all. Maybe they’re worried that, after Cynthia’s death, she’d failed to perform her duties.”

Tessa wasn’t so sure that was the reason. “I’m going to ask Timothy about it,” she decided.

“Okay. Have fun with that. I’m going to get some more food.”

Gloria hadn’t been gone for a minute when Lee Stuart lowered himself into her chair. He smiled and gestured at her almost empty plate. “Nice lunch today, eh?”

“I guess. It hit the spot.”

He rubbed his abdomen. “Sure did. Hey, listen, I was sitting over there,” he gestured to a nearby table, “eating by myself and preparing for my talk. I saw you over here, and I thought you should come. It’s right up your alley. It’s called Advancements in Your Reaper Career: How to Make it to Upper Management.”

She was only in her first year as a reaper. Tessa didn’t want to think about advancing yet. She must have given him a look that said as much because Lee waved a hand. “Anyway, I also couldn’t help but overhear you say you plan to talk to Timothy about following that reaper on an assignment. I wanted to warn you—he’s a pretty squirrelly guy. Whatever you do, don’t go talk to him alone.”

She tipped her head a bit, considering him. Timothy was taller than Tessa but seemed like he had no substance at all. She felt like she could push him over easily if he tried anything.

“I’m here to be your wingman if you need one,” Lee offered.

“Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.” She got up and grabbed her plate. “See you later.” As she left the room, Tessa scanned it for Timothy. There was no sign of him.

She bussed her plate and went into the outer room. There were still a few reapers hanging around the buffet table, but it was slim pickings now. It was as though a flock of hungry vultures has descended on it. Only some sad-looking salami and a few wilted pieces of celery remained.

Tessa didn’t see Timothy there either. Talking to him about Lydia would have to wait.

She pulled out the presentation schedule from her purse and scanned it. There was slim pickings there too. Three of the sessions were repeats of talks she’d already been to. One was about how to sell actual life insurance if you had to. The only remaining one was Lee’s talk on advancement.

With a sigh, Tessa stuffed the paper back in her purse and headed toward the room Lee’s talk was supposed to be in.

As she went, she thought about Lydia’s reap and why Timothy had been there. Was Gloria right that he was simply acting as April’s stooge—micromanaging the help for his irritable boss?

It didn’t quite ring true to Tessa. Neither did Timothy’s explanation about the reap itself. There must be an agency in Miami, and not everyone there would be attending the conference. Why weren’t they given the allotment instead of Lydia?

She stumbled to a halt when someone stepped in front of her, blocking the way into the conference room. All she saw was a burgundy suit. Tessa’s head jerked up.

It was Timothy.

“Have you been following me?”

Chapter 15

TIMOTHY’S EXPRESSION was deadpan. Tessa swallowed hard. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what to say.

Suddenly, he laughed and clapped her on the arm. “Just joshing you. Seems like I keep seeing you everywhere. But it’s a conference. I guess we’re all basically in the same area most of the time.”

Her laugh came out more nervous than she wanted it to, so Tessa cut it short. She straightened her shoulders. “You know, speaking of following, why did you follow Lydia this morning?”

Timothy’s eyebrows rose in a question.

Okay, she’d blurted that right out. Now she had to stick to her guns. “Sorry. I needed some air. That presentation was kind of boring. I happened to see you crossing the courtyard and wandered that direction myself. I didn’t realize there was a golf course over there. Then I saw Lydia doing a reap and you watching her.”

He blew out a breath and looked at his feet. “Here’s the thing.” His eyes darted to both sides as though checking for eavesdroppers. “I have aspirations of becoming a reaper. At least, I did—until seeing what happened to Cynthia.” He paused, and a shudder wracked his thin frame. “It made me think I must not be cut out for it after all.”

Tessa could understand that. She was already a reaper, and most every reap made her re-evaluate her career choice. Cynthia’s death had doubled down on that feeling for a hot second.

Timothy averted his gaze. “So, I arranged for one of our reapers to get an allocation this morning and followed her to watch. I wanted to prove to myself I could still be a reaper if I wanted to.” He finally met Tessa’s gaze again. She couldn’t tell what the emotion was that played there.

“And did you? Prove it to yourself, I mean?”

His thin shoulders rose and fell. “I’m not sure.” He cleared his throat. “But the Miami office appreciated our help this morning. A lot of their folks are here at the conference, too, and their remaining reapers have been stretched pretty thin. I told them to just let me know if they need us to take any allocations off their hands.”

“That was nice of you.”

“Would you still think so if I send the next assignment to you?”

She pursed her lips and studied him.

Timothy waved a hand. “I promise I won’t follow you. I got the information I needed from Lydia’s reap. I just have to do some soul-searching on my own now.”

“Fine,” Tessa agreed.

“Thank you.” He stepped aside and swept a hand toward the conference room. “Enjoy your session.” As he walked away, he said over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to watch your app.”

Tessa found a seat at the back of the conference room, pulled out her phone, and made sure it would vibrate if the reaper app went off during the presentation. Lee gave her a smile and a wave as he entered the room and headed for the lectern.

Her mind wandered during the talk. She thought about Timothy wanting to be a reaper. Was that strictly an up-and-up aspiration? Or could the guy have more evil intentions? Like, was it possible he was a serial killer wanting to use reaping to do it? Maybe he’d been unable to secure a reaper job, so he’d had to use his accounting chops to do some killing.

Tessa remembered the lack of blood perfusion in Timothy’s face after seeing Cynthia and dismissed that potential theory. The guy was almost certainly not a serial killer.

But perhaps his desire to be a reaper meant Timothy wasn’t appropriately allocating deaths for another selfish reason. Could he have put in the order for Art’s death hoping to talk April into giving Timothy the empty position? And then, when that didn’t happen, arranged for Cynthia’s death for another shot at a job?

It made sense. More than the serial killer thing. It qualified as a motive.

Tessa’s phone lit up, and she grabbed it, half-expecting to see an assignment on the reaper app. But was it safe to go on a reap ordered by Timothy? Was it truly official or was his explanation a lie? He seemed to be onto the fact that Tessa was following him. Would he order her death next, in an attempt to get her job?

But it wasn’t the reaper app that had caused the notification. It was a missed call from Cheryl. Tessa put the phone down and made a mental note to check for a voicemail from her mother later.

At the end of the day’s presentations, Tessa checked her phone again. There was no message from Cheryl, but as she looked at the screen, a text from Silas appeared. It was as though he’d been watching for the clock to strike five and Tessa to be done for the day.

Dinner date? I’ve got a hankerin’ for Thai.

Tessa blinked at the word date but then shook her head. It was just a figure of speech. If she wanted to hone in on a word in the text to obsess over, it should be hankerin’. Who said that? And actually spelled it with an apostrophe in a text? Maybe Silas was the sociopath.

Chuckling to herself, Tessa tapped the reaper app to check it once more.

Nothing.

She went to text him back but stopped midway. She chewed her bottom lip for a second.

Silas texted again: Does this mean you don’t want Thai? I could go for Indian instead. BBQ? Empanadas again? I’m easy.

Laughing, she decided Timothy must have decided to give the next assignment to someone else. Or maybe the local agency hadn’t shifted one over to him after all. She texted back: Mediterranean? Polynesian? A dinner date sounds great.

She held her breath, wishing after hitting send that there was some way to get the text back and change the word date. Sure, Silas had used it first, but it could have been a figure of speech. She didn’t have to use it too, shining a huge figurative spotlight on it.

His return text was perfectly normal, belying her obsession over the little word: Pick you up in 15.

Tessa went to her room, changed into a light blue sundress, and sent a text to Gloria: Going out with Silas.

The return text came back lightning fast: See you later. Remember: be spontaneous Tessa.

Tessa rolled her eyes as she left the hotel room, slipping the phone into her purse after unmuting the notifications.

Silas had just entered the lobby when Tessa got out of the elevator. He beamed at her. “How was your day?”

“Fine. How about you? How’s that jellyfish sting?”

His already bronze cheeks darkened even more. “Fine. Much better now. That isn’t something I want to experience again, though. Ready to head out?” He grabbed her elbow.

With a nod, Tessa let him lead her out into the clear evening.

In the end, they decided on Thai after all. Silas had already scoped out a place near the boardwalk.

“I sat on the beach near here for a while at lunchtime, and the place was crazy busy,” he explained. “I figured they must have decent food.” He grinned as they settled into their chairs. “How about some appetizers?”

“Yes. I’m starved.”

Her phone buzzed.

Tessa winced as she had a premonition about what that buzz meant. With reluctance, she pulled the phone out of her purse to confirmed it. Yep. It was the reaper app.

She had an assignment. And it was nearby—at the pier.

Tessa glanced at Silas. “Um. Can you order for us while I run out for a few minutes?”

“Where do you need to go?” He rose halfway from the chair. “I’ll just go with you. We can come back afterward.”

She shook her head and reached over to push him back into the chair. “No, no. I just have to meet Gloria and give her my pass key to the room. She lost hers.”

He sank down. “Oh, well, that’s easy. She can just get a new one at the hotel’s front desk. I had to do it a couple days ago.”

“She doesn’t have any ID on her to prove who she is. It’s all inside the room. It’ll just take me a few minutes. Why don’t you order a few appetizers for us? I’ll be right back.” With a reassuring smile, Tessa hurried off, hoping he’d bought her excuse.

She paused outside the restaurant to check her reaper app. When she saw who the deceased was, Tessa frowned, and her stomach flopped. Grudgingly, she tapped the assignment to accept it, and a map popped up with Tessa’s position marked by a glowing green dot and the assignment’s in yellow. The reap was surrounded by blue water, all the way at the end of the pier.

Tessa hurried in that direction, hoping she could get done quickly and back to Silas before the appetizers got cold.

When she arrived, Tessa scanned the area, looking for the person that matched the picture in her app. She found her right away.

A mother stood by the railing, looking out at the ocean. She held the hand of a little girl who looked to be about two or three and moved a stroller slowly back and forth with the other.

Tessa’s heart squeezed. She started forward but then a thought skittered across her mind.

Is this right?

It didn’t feel right. Of course, Tessa knew bad things happened sometimes, but right here, right now, things just felt . . . off.

Why was Timothy allocating deaths to conference-going reapers? Was his explanation about helping the Miami agency true? Or was something else going on?

Could he be manipulating the allocations to get the numbers right after Cynthia’s unauthorized death?

Tessa made a snap decision. She moved forward quickly, toward the young family. When the mother let go of the little girl’s hand and turned to lift the baby out of the stroller, Tessa broke into a run.

She made it there just in a time. There was a spot of railing, under construction, where the only thing holding anyone back was some caution tape and a cone. As the girl began to wobble on the edge, about to fall into the choppy waters where she was scheduled to die, Tessa grabbed her under the arms, pulling her gently back.

The mother snatched up the girl’s hand. “Oh my goodness! I can’t believe that almost happened. I was getting Davey out of his stroller. Dani, you can’t go near the edge! Look! There’s no rail!” Her voice was gentle but held the barely restrained panic of someone who understood what had almost happened. She looked at Tessa. “Thank you so much. How did you . . .”

“I was in the right place at the right time, that’s all. I happened to see your little girl get close to the edge.” Tessa smiled at the woman.

“Thank you. I’ve been . . . having a hard time lately. Since my husband left. I just wanted us to come out and see the ocean. You know, relax for a minute.” She shook her head. “I should have known better. My kiddos are still so young.” She blinked back tears.

Tessa shook her head. “It was just one of those things. Kids are so fast.” Tessa walked with them, grabbing the stroller and pushing while the woman carried Davey and held tightly to Dani’s hand. “I’m sorry to hear about your husband.”

The woman nodded. “It’s probably for the best.” She glanced at Dani. It was clear she didn’t want to say too much in front of the girl about her father.

“I’ve had my share of rotten relationships.” Tessa thought about Frank, her most recent ex-boyfriend. He had been a real jerk. “But I still think there are good guys out there.” An image of Silas danced in her mind’s eye, making her smile.

The young mother smiled too. “I know. I just have to focus on my kiddos for right now.” She didn’t let go of Dani’s hand but leaned forward. “Thanks again. I . . . I think you saved her life.”

Tessa nodded, gave Dani one last smile, and headed down the boardwalk toward the Thai restaurant. But after only a couple of steps, Silas stepped out of the shadows in front of her.

His face was covered with confusion. “Where’s Gloria?” He glanced at Dani and her mother. “And what just happened? How did you know that girl was going to fall in the water? Did your phone tell you that?”

Tessa arranged her face into an innocent expression. “What?” She glanced over her shoulder at the trio she’d just left. “Oh. Um. No. It didn’t. I just happened to be walking by and saw her wobbling on the edge.”

He shook his head. “That was . . . awesome how you saved her. But I swear it wasn’t random. You came directly here. Walked right out there and grabbed that girl. As though you knew it was about to happen.” His brow furrowed. “How is that possible?”

“It’s not. Gloria told me to meet her here. But she found her key. Why did you follow me?”

He shrugged. “It’s just this feeling I have. Since back home in Mist River. Remember the casino thing?” He stepped closer. “Tessa, I really like you. Like, enough that I want to be in a relationship with you.”

Her heart beat faster.

“But something isn’t quite right. There’s something going on with you.” He crossed his arms. “Can’t you just tell me what it is so we can move on? So I can feel like you aren’t lying to me?”

She pressed her lips together, considering. Gloria had suggested that it may be okay for Silas to know the truth at some point. But now certainly wasn’t the time. He’d only just mentioned the word relationship. It had to be much further down the road.

But she couldn’t be upset with him for following her. If he was the one acting weird all the time, she’d probably try to investigate too. No, she definitely would.

Except she couldn’t tell Silas the truth about her job. Not yet.

She smiled. “Silas, there’s nothing going on. I swear. Like I said, Gloria texted me that she found her pass key. I happened to look out and see that lady with the girl and a stroller. I had one of those feeling—you know, a hunch. Something made me start walking toward them and then I saw Dani wobbling and ran to grab her. That’s the girl’s name—Dani.” Tessa shrugged it off as no big deal. “My stomach is growling. Do we still have our table at the Thai place?”

Silas still looked a little suspicious, but his expression softened slightly. “Yes. I left my credit card as collateral. We should have a big tray of hot spring rolls waiting for us.” He held out an elbow. “Let’s go.”

She breathed a sigh of relief as the energy between them seemed to settle back to normal.

But, at the same time, her stomach dropped. That had been a close one. Silas was too smart for Tessa to keep her secret from him for long.

She’d been stupid to think they may be able to have a romantic relationship.

Chapter 16

THEY HAD A PLEASANT dinner, even though the heavy feeling never really left Tessa’s stomach. She and Silas went on a short walk on the beach after the Thai food, and then he dropped her off at the hotel.

The weight of the untruth between them still held something back for him too. There was no almost kiss. No grazing of hands. Tessa had put so much thought behind the word date from his text, only to ruin it by being a reaper.

She went straight up the room, not expecting Gloria to be there, since it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. The crowd at the bar partied until at least midnight.

But as she pushed the door open, the toes on a pair of socked feet wiggled at the end of Gloria’s bed.

“Oh . . .  I didn’t expect you to be here.” She’d actually wanted some alone time. Tessa pushed open the door the rest of the way.

“That’s because you never answer your phone, dear.” Cheryl sat on Gloria’s bed, back against the headboard, flipping through a home decorating magazine.

The door swung shut behind her. Frantic, Tessa’s eyes swept the room. This felt like a surreal dream. Gloria’s gold suitcase was gone from the luggage rack, replaced by a navy-blue one. In fact, all of Gloria’s stuff had vanished.

“Mom. What are you doing here? And what did you do with Gloria?”

Cheryl flipped another page and kept her eyes on the magazine. “The problems here are too grand. We can’t allow the conference to continue without our intervention. The task force was called up this morning.”

Tessa dropped her phone and pass key on the dresser. “Task force? What . . . wait. You’re a member of the super-secret task force that comes in to handle things when a soul is lost or whatever?”

Cheryl raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Not a member, Theresa. I’m the head of the task force.”

Tessa sank onto her own bed and ran a hand through her hair. It had gotten knotted up a bit during her walk with Silas on the windy beach. She felt off-kilter. Her mind was sluggish as she tried to catch up with what was happening. “You didn’t answer my question. Where’s Gloria?”

Tessa’s heart fluttered as, momentarily, she wondered if her friend was okay—if maybe her actions had triggered Timothy into offing another reaper. But Cheryl had said this morning. Nothing had happened this morning.

“We moved her to a single room. I thought it would be nice to bunk with my daughter.” She finally looked over at Tessa. “Like old times.”

Tessa pressed her lips together. There was something odd in her mother’s expression . . .  the hint of an emotion she couldn’t remember seeing there before. If she didn’t know better, Tessa would have said it was vulnerability.

She nodded. “That sounds like fun, Mom.” She managed not to choke on the word fun. “But wait. If you’re the head of the task force, why did you make me find Chet Sanborn’s spirit by myself?”

The strangely vulnerable expression on Chery’s face disappeared, replaced by amusement. She waved a hand. “Oh, that. I didn’t want to get involved unless it was required. And look! You did just fine.”

Tessa narrowed her eyes, thinking about the stress she’d gone through during her first week on the job. Her mother could have helped relieve that and decided not to?

Cheryl licked her finger to pry open the next page. “Oh, please. Don’t get your knickers in a knot. I was paying attention. I could have jumped in to help any time. But I thought it was a valuable learning experience. And I was right. You’ve jumped into your career with more knowledge than most at this stage. You should be thanking me.”

“No. You told me there was going to be an apocalypse if I didn’t find Mr. Sanborn.” Tessa’s tone was accusatory.

Cheryl chuckled. “Well, I may have exaggerated a touch. But, really, it is true that things can go awry fast with the fabric of the universe if the accounting is off for too long.” She set the magazine aside and swung her legs over the bed, facing Tessa. “Tell me. What have you dug up on this current situation?”

Tessa didn’t want to change subjects. She still felt pouty about the revelation that Cheryl was on the task force. But she knew from years of experience that once Cheryl had decided that a topic of discussion was over, she wasn’t likely to entertain it further. “Not a whole lot.”

“Really? Gloria says you’ve been snooping.”

Traitor!

“Timothy . . . April’s assistant . . . he’s my biggest suspect right now.”

“Timothy?” Cheryl cocked her head as though it would help her access data in her brain about the man. “Timothy. That man from the office last week. He’s awfully mousey, isn’t he?”

Tessa shrugged. “I guess so. He wants to be a reaper. I think maybe he’s killing reapers to make a job opening for himself.”

“A little extreme, isn’t it? What brought you to this conclusion?”

“It’s not a conclusion. Not yet. But I don’t really have any other leads.” She flopped back onto the bed and talked to the ceiling instead of Cheryl. “Lee Stuart told me that, if there was an allocation issue in the eastern district, it was Timothy who’d be behind it. He seemed to think Timothy was easily distracted by nonsense and could have messed up the accounting on accident.”

“And you agree?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, Timothy has been on the outskirts of all the weird things going on. He was on the plane when Art died and nearby when Cynthia was attacked by a shark. And he’s doling out allocations here.”

“Here? In Miami?”

“Yes.” Tessa nodded. “There have been two reaps that I know of so far. He sent Lydia on one—a stroke on the golf course. And he followed her to watch. Mom, he told me he did that to see if he still had the chops to be a reaper after he got squeamish during Cynthia’s death. Then, he assigned a reap to me.”

“You?” Cheryl’s tone was sharp, tinged with alarm.

Tessa got onto one elbow to look at her mother. “Yep. I was supposed to reap a little girl. A drowning. But I didn’t do it.”

“You lost the soul?”

“No. I saved the little girl.”

Cheryl’s eyes got wide. “You what?” Her words were barely above a whisper.

Tessa shook her head and sat up all the way. “Something didn’t feel right. I think Timothy was messing with the numbers. Like, he allocated the little girl’s death to make the numbers add up or something.” She leaned forward. “I just had this strong gut feeling that she wasn’t supposed to die.” She shrugged. “So, I saved her.”

Cheryl blew out a breath. “Okay. I don’t know if I can get you out of this one, Theresa. If you saved a soul that was truly supposed to cross over . . . well, that’s very, very bad.”

For the first time since she’d yanked Dani back onto the pier, Tessa felt a ripple of doubt. “Like what?”

“Like you could be court-martialed and sentenced to life in federal prison.” In answer to the questioning look Tessa shot her, she explained, “We contract out to them in these situations. A few people high up in the government know about us.” She stood and began to pace. “But that isn’t important now. What’s important is proving Timothy is the culprit and that he ordered a death, or more than one, that shouldn’t have occurred. We need to be proactive about defending you.”

Tessa twisted her fingers together. “How, exactly, do we do that?”

Cheryl grabbed her pass key and purse and spun toward the door. “We don’t do anything. You go to bed and stay out of trouble. I’m going to consult with the rest of the task force.”

She was gone before Tessa could say anything else.

Tessa was left staring at the back of the door, wondering what else her mom kept secret from her.

***

THE NEXT MORNING WHEN Tessa woke up, Cheryl wasn’t there. It was clear she’d been back and left again because the clothes she’d been wearing the night before were on her bed and a damp used towel lay on the bathroom floor.

Tessa was obviously still catching up on sleep from the late night out with Silas at the beginning of the convention. It felt like another time. Another her.

She took her time getting ready, Cheryl’s warning about a court martial and federal prison dominating her troubled thoughts.

When Tessa finally managed to push away that worry, another one popped up—Silas. Had she made a mistake spending so much time with him? He was clearly getting the feeling that Tessa was keeping something from him. If they continued their relationship, that could increase. He could get hurt.

But maybe it would be okay once that got back to Mist River and weren’t surrounded by reapers—and a rogue administrator ordering bogus reaps.

Tessa hadn’t come to any conclusions by the time she was dressed. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and headed out and immediately spotted Gloria, who was coming out of a room across the hall.

Gloria grinned. “Nice surprise last night, huh?”

“If by nice, you mean terrifying and annoying, then yes. Having my mother slash boss show up in my room unannounced was nice.” Tessa rolled her eyes.

“She said she called to tell you to expect her. You didn’t answer or call back.”

“She’s never heard of voicemail,” Tessa shot back. “Seriously, if what she had to say was important, she’d leave a message or text it to me.”

Gloria punched the down button on the elevator. “I guess you deserved the surprise, then. What’s she here for, anyway? Did she decide at the last minute that she wanted to get her learnin’ on? Or is she presenting? Seems weird, since this is the last day of the conference.”

They got into the empty elevator. “She’s the head of the task force that investigates lost souls and such,” Tessa explained. “She’s here to help handle the deaths of Art and Cynthia.”

Gloria whistled. “Wow. I don’t think you’re supposed to say things like that out loud,” she whispered, “the mythical task force is real. And Cheryl’s the head of it. That’s how you say it.”

They exited the elevator into the lobby, where reapers milled about or huddled in groups of two and three, talking in hushed tones. Tessa had a feeling that word of Cheryl’s arrival and what it meant had gotten out.

The breakfast buffet was crowded too. April was scheduled to give her wrap-up speech in the big conference room while people ate. Gloria and Tessa carried their plates and cups of coffee in and stood for a minute, looking for spots to sit. There weren’t many left, and they ended up in the front row, next to Bubba, who was beside Lee.

And to Lee’s other shoulder, Cheryl sat sipping coffee and looking calm. She glanced at her daughter, her gaze dropping to Tessa’s plate. She pressed her lips together, and Tessa knew her mother was judging her breakfast choices. Tessa lifted her chin, set the plate down, and took a big bite of donut in defiance.

April made her way to the podium and tapped the microphone. She looked paler than usual, and her eyes lingered on Cheryl for a second before darting away. She began to speak, talking about how well the conference had gone—considering—and how much knowledge had been passed back and forth between reapers.

Tessa nibbled and listened with half an ear. April’s tone was flat, her words more halting than usual. But she wasn’t saying anything particularly interesting, and Tessa preferred people-watching.

After ten minutes of droning on, April seemed to be wrapping up. “Our profession is an old and venerated one. As reapers, we are chosen for a sacred job. Gathering like this to help one another learn to do that job to the best of our abilities is an essential part of maintaining the integrity of our careers. I salute you all for attending and wish you luck over the next year. Until we meet again.”

April turned away from the microphone, toward Timothy, who approached his boss with a file.

Cheryl stood and cleared her throat, causing the murmur of voices that had begun to rise in the room to decrease back to silence again.

Lee and Bubba got to their feet too, and the three reapers edged out of the row of chairs and approached April and Timothy.

Tessa perked up. Lee and Bubba were on the task force?

Cheryl spoke in a clear, ringing voice that seemed enhanced somehow, as though she wore an invisible microphone. “Yes, we do have a sacred mandate to help the dead cross over. We also have a responsibility to police ourselves—to ensure that those who are within the fold of our organization have impeccable ethics. Unfortunately, we have reason to believe there’s been a problem. The Task Force on Lost Souls and Misplaced Allocations,” she glanced at Lee and Bubba, “has found reasonable proof that Timothy Bond has engaged in unlawful activities resulting in the deaths of reapers and the misallocations of their souls.”

Bubba stepped forward, reaching for Timothy, whose face drained. He looked even paler than on the dock at the time of Cynthia’s death. His hands began to shake. He dropped the file.

“But . . . but I didn’t do anything,” Timothy objected.

Bubba made a strange motion with his hands and a pair of handcuffs appeared in them. But they weren’t standard-issue police variety cuffs. They looked like they were made of silver electricity, and they sparkled and snapped as Bubba grabbed Timothy’s left wrist.

“Of course, you’ll be able to present your defense to the judge,” Cheryl said, not unkindly. “If you have a lawyer, you can call them once we get you to a secure location. If you don’t, one will be appointed for you.”

Bubba pushed one end of the magical cuffs against Timothy’s skin, and the loop went right through his wrist, then clamped down. With a swift motion, Bubba grabbed Timothy’s right wrist and repeated the motion with the other end of the cuffs. Once they were on, the handcuffs disappeared from view. Timothy was able to hold his hands at his sides. Tessa realized the task force would be able to remove Timothy from the premises without any non-reapers who may be around realizing he was restrained.

Timothy turned toward April. His tone was desperate. “Tell them I didn’t do it! I’m a good employee. An honest one.”

April rubbed her temple and blew out a breath. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen in my career,” she snapped. “Timothy is nothing but an assistant. If you take him, how am I going to get everything done? I don’t even know how to run the data base.”

Cheryl crossed her arms. “We’ll assign you a temporary assistant until this is sorted out.

April opened her mouth to say something else but then shrugged and addressed Timothy. “There’s nothing I can do. The task force, on official business, outranks me. You’ll just have to go with them. My hands are tied.”

Timothy’s chin dropped to his chest. “But I’m not guilty.”

“Let’s go.” Bubba grabbed Timothy’s elbow and propelled him forward.

Lee turned toward the room at large and gave a relaxed smile. “As you can see, we have this under control. Please relax and enjoy the last day of the conference.”

The task force left with Timothy, who whimpered and cast looks of panic back at April. She ignored him, carefully gathering the papers form the podium as though that were the most important thing she’d do all day.

Once the task force and Timothy were gone, the room erupted in excited chatter.

Gloria said, “Well, that was fast. I guess that’s why the task force gets the big bucks. Can you believe Bubba’s on it?” She looked amused.

“No!” But Tessa was only partly listening to Gloria. Her mind was on what had just happened.

She’d nearly been convinced that Timothy was behind the recent reaper deaths and extra Miami allocations. But not completely. There had still been a whisper of doubt. When she’d talked to Timothy, he’d seemed genuine. Still, the order for Dani’s death hadn’t felt right to Tessa. And Timothy must have been behind that.

Yes, he must be the culprit.

Still, as she bussed her dishes and left the conference room, Tessa had a strange, worried feeling in the pit of her stomach.

What if they had the wrong guy?

Chapter 17

TESSA EXCUSED HERSELF from the table at lunch and returned to her room to rest a little and freshen up—which meant take a quick nap and hope it didn’t rearrange her hair into a hopeless rats’ nest before the evening’s activities.

But Cheryl was already there, using the mirror above one of the dressers to reapply lipstick. She glanced at her daughter. “Oh, good. I was afraid you wouldn’t bother to pack until after I’m trying to sleep tonight. Glad to see you’ll be getting it done now.”

Tessa knew that was a Cheryl code of instruction—a maneuver to get her way without demanding it.

Tessa sighed. She hadn’t any intention to pack yet. In fact, her plan pretty much had been to do it after the awards dinner that would mark the end of the conference that night. After all, they weren’t flying out until late the next morning. There was no sense in wasting time she could spend napping or lying by the pool this afternoon.

But she didn’t feel like arguing with her mother, so she opened her carry-on and started re-organizing what had become a rumpled mess of clothes. While doing so, Cheryl bobbed in and out of her periphery. “So, that was exciting this morning—the task force arresting Timothy. How did you decide he was behind the unallocated deaths?”

Cheryl popped the top on her lipstick tube and turned away from the mirror. “Oh, you know. Investigative skills—blah, blah. Nothing too exciting, dear.”

Tessa pursed her lips for a second and then blew out a breath. “Okay. As long as you didn’t arrest him based on what I said last night . . .”

“Hmm?” Cheryl was rummaging in her suitcase, and she cast a glance over her shoulder at Tessa. “Of course not. We did our own thorough examination of the records and interviewed people here at the conference.”

“Did you interview April?” Tessa wondered. Ever since Timothy had been taken away in magical handcuffs, Tessa hadn’t been able to concentrate on the conference. Her thoughts had been wrapped up in the murder investigation. Well, the same could be said about the whole conference—since Art’s death.

It still seemed like a mystery. And she couldn’t shrug off the idea that they’d gotten the wrong man. In fact, her suspicions had shifted toward April. The woman wasn’t very nice. In some ways, she reminded Tessa of Cheryl.

And April had an ongoing competition with Lee Stuart. Maybe she’d been the one to mess with the allocations. Or perhaps she’d strong-armed Timothy into doing it. That actually made more sense, since Timothy was the brains of the operation—or at least of the accounting. April had said it herself, she couldn’t even log into the system. And with the way April treated him, it was unlikely he’d be able to resist her orders.

A new thought occurred to Tessa. Maybe that was why Timothy had looked so pale on the dock when Cynthia was killed. Perhaps he’d felt guilty for following April’s orders.

Cheryl hummed as she buzzed around the room picking things up to pack. She’d only been there one night. Yet, she’d unpacked and now repacked like she was there for the week.

Tessa eyed her, wondering how to approach the subject. Finally, she cleared her throat. “What will happen to Timothy now? Federal court martial?”

“Oh, he’ll get a fair trial.” Cheryl’s tone was vague. “But it will be Mr. Blade who ultimately decides what to do with him.”

Mr. Blade! Of course.

“When will that happen? And where?” Tessa bit her lip. Maybe she could speak to Mr. Blade in time. “Will it be here in Miami?”

Cheryl shrugged. “That’s not my area. The task force will hold Timothy safely until we receive further instructions.”

“Hold him? Hold him where?”

Cheryl’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “What are you up to, Theresa?” She crossed to pick up her phone from the nightstand.

Tessa held up her hands placatingly. “Nothing. Why would you think I’m up to something? I’m just curious. Is Timothy in some kind of government facility? Miami jail? Reaper prison? Inquiring minds want to know these things.”

Cheryl sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling on her phone. She seemed distracted. “He’s here in the hotel. You know that group from Albuquerque with the stomach bug left early, so the sixth floor is mostly empty. We secured a room there. The task force members are taking turns guarding him until someone from the main office comes and gets him. They’re traveling here from D.C.”

“Ah. Well, I’m glad that’s over with.” Tessa pulled out a swimsuit and closed her suitcase. “I think I’ll go hang out at the pool one last time.”

Cheryl’s attention was still on her phone. “Have fun, dear.”

Tessa changed, slipping a cover-up over her suit, and got out of there fast, before her mother’s distraction ended and she re-focused on her daughter.

As Tessa headed toward the pool, she kept her eyes peeled for Mr. Blade. She remembered how Silas hadn’t seemed to see Blade before. Was that because Silas wasn’t a reaper?

But no. When Tessa first met Blade in the hallway outside the conference room, other reapers had scattered out of his way but hadn’t looked directly at him. It was as though they’d sensed his presence in a way but couldn’t actually see him.

Tessa thought it was possible—maybe even likely—that Corwin Blade was only visible to people when he wanted to be. So, looking for him could be entirely a waste of time. If he didn’t want Tessa to find him, she may walk right past without even knowing he was there.

Still, she scanned the area for his tall, dark frame. At the pool, she pulled out her purple sunglasses, popped them on, and looked around.

No Corwin Blade, aka the Grim Reaper himself.

She found a chair and sat, not leaning back, and tried to put out vibes that she wanted to talk to Blade. Maybe she could will him to appear? Or maybe he could feel when a reaper reached out for him?

That reminded her of what he’d told her. Something about the Scythe.

But surely, Blade could just sort of . . . know . . . whether Timothy was telling the truth about the allocations? After all, he was the original version, right? Every reaper was doing a tiny bit of what was really, ultimately, Blade’s job. They’d been given some of his abilities, somehow. So, Blade would know whether the numbers were messed up and who was responsible.

Tessa sat for an hour, mulling over the situation and watching for Mr. Blade, who never arrived.

When her phone buzzed, she pulled it out with a sigh, resigned that he wasn’t going to show up just because she’d tried to summon him.

Silas had texted: One last vacation sunset. Want to come?

A smile leapt to her lips, and she texted back Yes without really giving it much thought.

But I have to change.

Cool. I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.

Tessa was glad to find her hotel room empty. Cheryl must have gone downstairs. Or maybe she was taking her turn guarding Timothy. Wherever she was, Tessa was happy to change her clothes in peace and leave without having to explain to her mother where she was going.

Silas was right on time, as usual, and he gave her a warm, tight hug. Tessa relaxed in his arms.

Should she be doing this? Was it unfair to Silas to hang out with him when she was pretty sure they’d need to put an end to the budding relationship? He seemed to be over the weirdness of the night before—the lie that she’d told him.

She pushed away the doubts that tried to niggle their way between her and Silas. She was determined to live in the moment as much as possible for one more evening.

“Last chance to visit the empanada truck,” Silas suggested as they went outside.

She shook her head. “Sounds amazing, but we have our awards dinner tonight. Gloria said they really do it up with some great food.” She patted her stomach. “I’d better save my calories.”

Silas chuckled and grabbed her hand as they got to the boardwalk. “Well, if I have to have you back at a certain time, I’d better take advantage of every minute.” He glanced at her. “You know, I’ve had a great time hanging out with you.”

“Yeah.” She returned his smile and squeezed his hand. “Me too. It’s been a blast.”

“Thanks for suggesting it. And talking me into it. It’s been . . . nice . . . to have some time off to just relax for a few days.” He breathed deeply and looked out at the ocean. “This was just what I didn’t know I needed.”

Tessa nodded. “You should do it regularly. You know, at least once a year. I mean, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but there are people who actually take time off work for leisure activities sometimes.”

Silas scoffed. “Blasphemy!”

They both dissolved into giggles.

They didn’t walk too far since Tessa was on a time constraint, but the conversation was easy. Tessa didn’t think about Timothy or Mr. Blade. She was in the moment as they watched the sunset together, carrying their sandals so their toes could sink into the sand.

Back in front of the hotel, Tessa faced Silas. “I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow, I guess.” She felt bummed that vacation time was almost over.

But did it have to be? They were going back to the same place, after all. The same building, in fact. Tessa and Silas would see each other every day, like they had since Tessa moved into Mist River Manor.

Maybe this didn’t have to be the end of their budding romance—because Tessa had to admit to herself now that’s what it was. She had feelings for Silas, for sure, and he’d given off all the signals that it was reciprocal.

He leaned forward, brushing her cheek with his fingers. “Right,” he said softly, “I’ll see you at the airport.”

His lips brushed hers lightly, just for an instant, and then he winked and walked into the gathering darkness.

It had happened so fast Tessa could almost convince herself it had been in her imagination. Except it hadn’t. Silas had kissed her.

And it had been wonderful. A little short. But wonderful.

A smile played on her lips as she touched the spot where his had brushed them.

But as Tessa entered the hotel and saw a crowd of reapers passing through the lobby toward the conference room, Tessa’s elation abruptly soured. She’d almost forgotten.

How could she have a romantic relationship with Silas? Either she’d have to lie to him about her job, which was bound to end in feelings of betrayal at some point, or tell him about it, which could be dangerous for her and the other reapers.

No. As much as she didn’t want to, Tessa was going to have to find a way to break things off with Silas. For both of their sakes.

Chapter 18

“YOU LOOK LIKE SOMEBODY stole your puppy and replaced it with a big sack of stinky trash,” Gloria said.

Tessa laughed. “That’s . . . a strangely detailed and odd scenario.”

Gloria shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth. That’s exactly the face I’d expect you to make if such a thing happened. It didn’t happen, did it?”

“No!” Tessa laughed again.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She sank into a chair in the conference room.

“Definitely not a nothing face.” Gloria tipped her head, examining Tessa closer. “That’s a something expression if I ever saw one. Did you have a fight with your hottie landlord?”

“No!”

“But the face is about hottie landlord, isn’t it? I have a knack for these kinds of things.”

“Being nosey?” Tessa frowned and sank deeper into the chair. “Okay . . .  maybe.”

Gloria simply continued to stare expectantly at her.

“Fine,” Tessa huffed. “I’m going to tell him we can’t be together when we get home. I don’t want to do it. But it’s better for everyone if I do it now instead of letting it drag out until I hurt his feelings even worse.”

“How would you do that?”

“By continuing to lie to him every day about what I do.”

Gloria’s chest rose and fell as she sighed deeply. “You’re a slow learner, you know that?”

Tessa scowled at her friend. “Am not.”

“Are too.” Gloria looked like she was going to say more, but someone tapped on the microphone, drawing their attention.

It was Cheryl.

“Am not,” Tessa added triumphantly. She perked up, sitting straighter, wondering why her mother was speaking.

With a huge smile that made her look a tiny bit like a Mr. Ed, Cheryl lifted her hands wide and cooed into the microphone, “Thank you all for being here. Both tonight and at the conference in general. What a year. And that’s what we’re here to celebrate. Not the conference, but the year of reaping.”

Everyone cheered and clapped.

“But, as with all lovely things, this one is at an end. It’s time for us to celebrate the camaraderie we’ve had and the things we’ve learned.” She clasped her hands together and grinned like she’d just watched her offspring graduate from law school. She’d made no secret of the fact she wanted Tessa to be a high-powered lawyer. Nor had she hid her disappointment when Tessa announced that she had no intention of doing any such thing.

Cheryl continued, “I’m so proud of this community and everything we do. To that end, it’s time for our annual awards ceremony.”

The excitement was palpable in the room. Tessa realized this was a big deal for the reapers.

“Most of you know how we like to do these things. We start off a little silly—a little reminiscent of the high school yearbook. These were added when Lee was in charge of the awards.”

“They’re based off The Office, not the high school yearbook,” he called out.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “First, we have an award for the best-dressed reaper. Now, I’d like to remind you that these awards are decided on by committee, not by me.” Cheryl placed a hand on her chest. “So, I am not the one to blame if you weren’t chosen! Remember, you have a whole year to plan a better wardrobe to try and win next year.”

Everyone laughed.

Tessa was amazed. Cheryl was gracious and funny. Everyone was engaged and enjoying themselves with her at the mic. How had that even happened? Cheryl wasn’t scheduled to be at the conference. This must be an impromptu thing for her.

Was Timothy supposed to emcee the award ceremony?

But Cheryl was opening an envelope, so Tessa had to pay attention. The room fell silent as she read a sheet inside and smiled. “Well. I will have to accept this award on behalf of the recipient, who is otherwise occupied at this time.” She held up the slip of paper. “The winner is Bubba!”

Everyone clapped and cheered.

Cheryl held up a hand. “I would like to interject here that, as deserving as Bubba is of this award, we all know he’d give it up in a heartbeat to the reaper who truly dressed like no one else and won this award six times in past years—Art. We will all miss him.”

Applause rang through the room. Cheryl let it die down naturally before she continued. “The next award is for longest serving reaper.” She opened the envelope and then scanned the crowd as she announced, “Shirley!”

Shirley made her way to the front to accept a small plaque amid whistles and cheers. She said a quiet thank you into the microphone before heading back to her seat.

“Another of Lee’s additions. Next up is our award for most likely to be late for a reap.” Cheryl opened the envelope and Tessa held her breath. How embarrassing would it be if her name was on there?

But when Cheryl looked up, she announced, “The winner is Colton.”

A reaper Tessa had only met in passing went up to get his plaque, red-faced as everyone jeered at him from the crowd. Tessa blew out a relieved breath and vowed to make it to all of her future reaps on time. She never wanted to be given that award at the yearly conference.

“And next we have the rookie of the year award. This one truly is a honor to hand out. I know I still have mine sitting proudly on a bookshelf beside my desk. Gloria has hers. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m hoping to see three of these around the office.” Now Tessa squirmed with fervor. Her mother would probably embarrass her on stage. She opened the envelope and sighed. “Lydia.”

Lydia, not quite as red-faced as Colton, took her prize.

“And finally,” Cheryl said, “the most talked-about and competed-for award for the district supervisor whose district had the greatest number of allotments this year.” Cheryl opened the envelope, expression pleasantly tense as she read. Then she smiled. “The winner this year is Lee Stuart, by only three allocations.”

Shouts and boos went up from western and eastern reapers, respectively. As Lee made his way forward to accept the silver trophy from Cheryl, Tessa’s gaze swept the crowd and landed on April in the front row. The gray-haired woman was clearly seething. If her eyes had been able to make lightning, it was clear she would have burned Lee down right that second.

Lee shook Cheryl’s hand, and she stepped aside for him to speak into the microphone. “Thank you so much, Cheryl. And thanks to my team, the western division, for bringing me this honor once again.” He pinned Cheryl with a smile. “I know the eastern district worked hard, and they only fell short by such a tiny bit. I think this is the closest it’s been in years. Last year, we beat you by five. Way to narrow the margin.” He clucked his tongue. “But better luck next year.”

April’s hands fisted on the desk in front of her. Her expression darkened even more.

Tessa worried April might leap up and try to strangle Lee. Cheryl kept an eye on April too, as though worried her boss may blow a figurative gasket and literally explode into an angry tirade.

Tessa thought the whole thing was silly. Three allocations. That was nothing in the grand scheme of reaps done over the past year. Why make such a fuss about it? And who decided how the things were split? She guessed it was on merit, on who was doing the best job. Otherwise, it made no sense.

Lee finished his speech, and Cheryl said some final uplifting things that no one listened to as they all buzzed about the allotment award. Cheryl concluded by wishing everyone a safe trip home.

Gloria turned toward Tessa. “One last bar night?”

But Tessa shook her head. Something had stuck in her mind while Lee was speaking. She watched April exit the conference room, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to her. Tessa got to her feet. “You know what? I have something to do real fast. I’ll meet you after I’m done, okay?”

Gloria shrugged. “Sure.”

Tessa headed into the lobby and waited for the elevator. Inside, she punched the button for the sixth floor.

Three allocations. Lee had won by three. And there had been three since they got on the plane in Chicago—Art, Cynthia, and the man on the golf course. Dani would have been another if Tessa hadn’t saved her.

No one knew who had reaped Art and Cynthia. They were eastern district reapers, but could they somehow have been counted in the western district’s numbers?

Of course, there were always people being reaped. Every minute of the day. But Art and Cynthia were unaccounted for, and that was unusual.

The third reap on her mind—the man who had the stroke—seemed to have been allocated to the eastern district, but was it?

The reap hadn’t felt right to Tessa, just like Dani’s death hadn’t. Still, Lydia had done the reap, so it had to have been allocated to the east, right?

Tessa needed to talk to Timothy.

When she got out of the elevator on the sixth floor, Tessa stood for a minute, looking both ways and wondering where they were keeping Timothy. Cheryl had said there wasn’t much going on up there, and she was right. The hallway was empty.

Tessa stood uncertainly and chewed her bottom lip. Which way? She shrugged. If she had to check every room, so be it.

But as she took a step to the left, a sound stopped her. She whirled around. It had been a laugh. And she recognized it.

Tessa hurried in the direction of the sound, glad when it rang out again to help her pinpoint where to go. She arrived at a closed doorway at the end of the hall. She pressed her ear to the door, and it wasn’t long before she heard Bubba laugh again. She knocked softly.

Bubba pulled the door open and looked surprised. “Oh, hey, Tessa. Did your mom send you up for something?”

She shook her head. “Can I talk to Timothy for a minute?”

His brow scrunched. “I don’t know.” He glanced over his shoulder into the room at something she couldn’t see.

“It’ll just take a minute, I promise. I want to ask him something.”

Bubba shrugged and opened the door wider. “I guess it’s okay. Nobody told me he couldn’t have visitors. And he has the cuffs on. They’ll stop him if he tries to do anything weird.”

“Thanks.” Tessa followed Bubba in, closing the door behind her. It was a regular hotel room with two beds. An old comedy played on the TV.

Timothy, who had been lying on one of the beds, rolled onto his elbow and pushed himself up. His hair and clothes were rumpled, lapel stained as usual. He looked miserable.

“Hey, there.” She sat on the foot of the bed, more than arm’s length away from him. “How are you holding up?”

He shook his head. “Not so great, actually.”

“I can understand that. Listen, for what it’s worth, I don’t really think you’re guilty.”

His gaze met hers. “That’s worth a lot. Thanks.”

“I was just at the awards ceremony, and Lee won by three allocations. I was thinking about that. How many allocations were the numbers off by before the conference? You know, when you and April went to Chicago to investigate it.”

“Four,” he answered.

Four. Did that make sense?

Dani . . .

Her mind whirled as puzzle pieces slotted together. She thought about the rivalry between April and Lee. How some said they’d both go to any length to outdo each other. Tessa had thought that was hyperbole, but maybe it wasn’t. At least for one of them.

“Well, my shift is over.” Bubba got up and headed for the door. “Tessa, you coming with me or staying here?”

The three mis-allocations were exactly the ones Lee needed to win the award. Which meant April wasn’t the killer at all.

Bubba opened the door. “Ah! You’re right on time. Thanks for relieving me.”

A slither made its way up Tessa’s spine as she realized who must be behind the murders of the two reapers.

The same person who had just arrived to take Bubba’s place. Who had entered the room and closed the door. Who stood smiling at her, oozing charm.

Lee Stuart.

Chapter 19

A QUICK GLANCE AT TIMOTHY let Tessa know she was right about Lee. Or at least that he’d come to the same conclusion as she had. The assistant’s face lost its color, and he shrank back against the headboard as though trying to blend in with it.

Lee’s gaze moved from Tessa to Timothy and back. A slow smile raised the corners of his mouth, and he reached over to lock the deadbolt.

Tessa’s mind raced as she tried to figure out how to get out of the predicament. She decided the best thing to do was to keep her mouth shut—act like she hadn’t put things together. In theory, it’d work because there were still several facets she’d yet to understand.

If she could convince Lee she was harmless, maybe he’d let her go. And then, she could find her mother, or, even better, Mr. Blade.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Lee’s smile grew broader. “A gathering of the minds? Fraternizing with the enemy? You’re aware this man is charged with, well, serious charges. It could even be viewed as murder in a certain light.”

“I didn’t do it. Tessa knows I didn’t do it.”

“Does she now?” Lee leaned back against the door, crossing his arms and ankles. “And who does she suppose did?”

Unfortunately for Tessa and the solid, safe plan, the connection between her brain and mouth was, as usual, broken. Her brain was unable to stop her mouth from blurting out, “It was you. You killed Art. And Cynthia. Didn’t you? And probably more.”

She winced.

Timothy winced.

Come on, mouth. Work with me here. “Why, though?” Clearly, her mouth had gone rogue, and Tessa would just have to roll with it.

“It was all part of the game.”

“Game? Taking people’s lives—before they’re supposed to go—is a game for you?” Rage boiled up in her chest, and she spat out, “Little Dani’s life . . . her death . . .  that’s a game to you?”

Lee chuckled. “We take lives every day. That’s what we do. There are so many people on this earth. No one really notices a few extras gone.”

“Besides their families, their friends—”

“Their coworkers,” Lee finished. “That’s why you stuck your nose in it. All for a couple of people you barely even met.”

Tessa balled her fists. She wanted to leap on the evil man and throttle him with her bare hands. But she forced herself to breathe deeply and stay seated, reminding herself that he was dangerous.

She glanced at Timothy. His eyes were wide.

“It was all for the contest, wasn’t it?” Tessa accused.

“My rivalry with April has gotten more heated every year,” he conceded. “Not only do we spar over the award, but we also place personal bets on various other things.” His eyes slid to Timothy. “Including mythical death allotments.”

Timothy looked like he was going to be sick.

It looked like Tessa would have to win this fight alone. She only hoped he kept it together. If she was going to die in here by Lee’s hands, she didn’t want it to be beside vomit.

Lee shook his head, still looking amused. “In an orderly world, the allotments would be about equal between our two divisions—barring a natural disaster or something, of course. But this world isn’t ordered. It’s dirty and rough and competitive. People who understand that and give in to the natural order of things will always do better than those who don’t—goody-two-shoes like the both of you.”

Tessa’s eyebrows went up. Timothy looked away from Lee.

“Yes, that’s right.” Lee’s hard gaze pinned Timothy. “I know you were working against me.”

Timothy didn’t answer, but a muscle clenched in his jaw.

“I don’t understand,” Tessa interjected. “How did Art’s and Cynthia’s deaths count for you? They lived in the eastern division. They died in the eastern division.”

“Well, that was my trick, of course. It was actually April who discovered the loophole, but she never understood it well enough to manipulate. Luckily, I was able to grasp the finer points and use it to my advantage.

“You see, if a death is cheated somehow . . . the person doesn’t die as they were destined to . . . that allocation is up in the air, to do with as anyone pleases. I just have to use my managerial access to the reaper app, add the unused allocation number, and optionally the victim, then be the first to take it off the queue.”

“All I had to do was prevent a few eastern deaths and voila! They became allotments for me. I figured I could use them to my advantage twice—once to add to my side’s total and help me win the award, and once to remove a couple of April’s best reapers from the equation. Doing that could help me win for years to come.”

“But how do you manage to prevent those deaths? Doesn’t their reaper see you intervene?”

“Ah. Now you’re using your noggin.” He pushed himself away from the door and started pacing in front it, a few steps in each direction. He reminded Tessa of a professor giving a lecture. “They didn’t see me for the same reason no one saw me take Art or Cynthia across the veil.” He gave Tessa a sly, sidelong look. “Because I received secret knowledge from the original reaper. A secret I can tap into at will. I can become invisible.”

“Corwin Blade gave you the ability to go invisible?” Tessa was shocked.

“It was many years ago. Long before I was the western district supervisor. He said I was a promising reaper. So promising that I deserved a special gift.”

Promising. The word rang in Tessa’s mind. Blade had said something like that to Tessa at the pool.

Tessa’s mind kept scrambling to keep up. “Okay, you showed up and prevented three deaths from occurring in April’s territory—”

“Four deaths,” Timothy corrected. “I caught on after the first two. He wasn’t fast enough to take the other two from the app. I took them as soon as I saw the allotment, then gave the first two Lydia. That’s why I followed her. I was hoping to figure what was going on—because even her reap went to him.”

“The invisibility,” Lee sneered. “She only thought she did that reap. I was guiding that man along the whole time.”

“And Dani?”

“It was nothing personal.” Lee cleared his throat. “After the first two, with Timothy hot on my trail and you snooping around, I knew I could no longer choose my victims from the reaper community. I had to venture out. I let the app decide.”

It seemed like Lee was getting bored of talking. Tessa wanted to keep him talking. Maybe, just maybe, Cheryl would be looking for her. And maybe, just maybe, she’d come up here.

“You know, there’s still Dani’s allotment unaccounted for.” He reached into the back of his waistband and pulled something out. “And lucky for me, I was just plugging it into my phone on the elevator.” He brandished a blade in front of his body, pointing first at Tessa with it and then at Timothy. Then, with his other hand, he pulled out his phone. “The only remaining question is who the lucky one will be. Stabbed to death. What a way to go.”

Timothy choked out a mini-sob and shrank further back against the headboard. Tessa glanced at him before retraining her eyes on Lee’s knife. She knew Timothy wouldn’t be able to fight Lee much if at all. His hands were bound by the magical invisible handcuffs. If they were both going to get out of this alive, it was Tessa who was going to have to make it happen.

Lee’s knife seemed to quiver indecisively for a second before it settled on Tessa. “Maybe it’s finally your time to go, Ms. Randolph. After all, you’ve already cheated death once. You can’t do that forever.”

“That debt has already been paid,” Tessa ground out, thinking of her father taking her place—dying so she didn’t have to when she was a teenager. No way was she going to let this maniac make it so his sacrifice was for nothing.

Slowly, she got to her feet, keeping the bed between her and Lee.

“Be that as it may,” Lee said, “I can see you have an annoying rebellious streak. Timothy here will be easier for me to control. I’m sure we can work out an agreement, can’t we Tim? May I call you Tim?”

“No.”

“Come on. It will be nice to have someone in April’s office who’s under my thumb. I’d like to smoke her out of the water by dozens of allocations next year. That will be much easier if I have an operative working right under her nose.” He stepped around the end of the bed toward Tessa, gripping the knife hard and still fidgeting with the app, attempting to type with one thumb. “Yes. I think today is your unlucky day.”

As Lee moved in front of a big mirror on the wall, his reflection caught Tessa’s eye for a moment. Only it wasn’t only his reflection. There was another person visible there.

Blade.

She jerked her head to look for the man in the room, but he wasn’t there.

Once again, Tessa thought of their conversation by the pool. What had he said? That the power of the scythe was hers to use as needed. She had only to wish for it.

She hadn’t understood at the time that he meant it literally. But Lee’s confession that the Grim Reaper had given him access to invisibility had made it clear to her.

Lee kept moving. He kept drawing closer, distracted by the phone.

All of a sudden, Timothy, who had apparently used his blubbering and weeping as a cover to disguise the fact that he’d maneuvered himself into a crouched position with his feet under him, propelled himself forward across the bed, hurling his body to intercept Lee.

Lee grabbed Timothy’s arm and used the assistant’s momentum to send him hurtling through the air. But in doing so, dropped the phone.

Timothy screamed as the blade glanced off him before he hit the dresser and crashed to the ground with a sickening thud.

Tessa glanced his direction, not wanting to take her eyes off Lee for long. Blood pooled under Timothy’s body. She fought the urge to rush to him, forcing her gaze back to Lee.

Timothy had stopped him, at least for a moment. Lee’s eyes were on Timothy and the blood too. But the assistant’s spirit didn’t rise out of his body. He wasn’t dead. Yet.

Tessa took the second of Lee’s inattention to plant her feet shoulder-length apart and brace for his inevitable attack.

She squared her shoulders and focused on Lee. “Turn yourself in,” she said. “Tell the task force what you did and face the consequences. You can still have a life if you end this now.”

Lee dragged his gaze over to her. He threw back his head and howled with laughter. When he brought his chin down again, the look in his eye was chilling. He held the knife up higher. “I do have a life. The exact one I want. I’m number one. Invincible. I’m as close to the original Grim Reaper as it comes. I choose who lives and who dies. And I choose you to die.”

Tessa had less than a moment to react when Lee charged forward. She raised her hand, thinking of Blade and the scythe he’d mentioned. When the wickedly sharp, curved blade appeared in her hand, its wooden handle smooth, as though someone had spent hours sanding it to perfection, she was so surprised she almost dropped it. She fumbled for a moment and then slapped the other hand onto the handle to steady it. She lifted the blade.

Lee’s face registered complete shock but then he looked resigned. “I see I’m not the only one the boss let in on a secret.”

“I think the boss has decided you’re unhinged and need to go.”

He shook his head, bringing the knife forward and pointing it at Tessa’s neck. “Nah. I still think my secret is better than yours.”

And, suddenly, she couldn’t see him anymore. Lee and the knife were both gone.

Tessa twirled in a circle, but Lee wasn’t there. It was as though he had completely disappeared from the room.

But she knew that wasn’t the case. He was still there, stalking her with his knife, looking for a chance to plunge it into her neck.

Tessa brought the scythe up and tried to keep moving. She didn’t want to create a still, motionless target for the psychopath.

Timothy moaned and stirred, but Tessa didn’t spare any attention for him. She’d have to hope Lee came after her instead of deciding to take out the easier target——the injured man who didn’t even know the reaper was there.

The comforter moved a tiny bit at the foot of the bed. Tessa swung the scythe, hard, in that direction. But it didn’t connect with anything. Instead, the momentum of her swing spun her ninety degrees to the left.

Panic tore at the edges of her mind as she anticipated an invisible Lee grabbing her while she tried to get her balance. She stumbled and had to let go of the scythe with her left hand to steady herself on the bed.

When she looked up again, movement caught her eye. Her gaze popped over to the mirror. It was Lee. She could see him in the mirror. He wasn’t completely solid. More like a ghost that she could see better in her periphery than straight-on. But she could see him behind her, lifting his knife over her back.

Without thinking about it, Tessa whirled, using both hands on the scythe as she swung it like a bat.

It sliced right through Lee’s body.

It felt like cutting butter.

And Lee was solid again.

He had only a fraction of a second to give Tessa a shocked look before he crumpled to the ground at her feet, the knife clattering out of his hand.

“I’m not dying today, Mr. Stuart,” Tessa said. “Today, you fill Dani’s allotment yourself.” The scythe was gone. She glanced at the mirror, where Blade’s reflection had appeared again. He grinned and winked. And then he was gone.

She skirted around Lee, rushing to kneel next to Timothy. He stirred, and she helped him sit up. A deep cut on his arm seeped blood slowly. “You’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I’ll get help.”

“Tessa!” Timothy grabbed her arm. His eyes were focused over her shoulder. “Look!”

She twisted her neck to see what Timothy pointed at. Lee’s soul ascended from his ruined body. The spirit looked around, first at his own body, and then at them. His ghostly face twisted in disgust.

Tessa popped to her feet. She waved a hand to open a path to the other side. Bright light shone, as though from the ceiling. She headed toward Lee’s spirit, intending to tether it and take it across the veil. She’d seen Gloria do it once and thought it looked simple enough.

But Lee smiled widely. Shook his head. Then, he took off.

Before Tessa could do anything, the spirit had passed right through the closed hotel room door.

He’d escaped.

Chapter 20

BY THE TIME TESSA MANAGED to wrench the door open, the hallway was empty. There was no sign of Lee’s spirit.

She gritted her teeth. “No. This isn’t happening again.” She spun around, rushed back into the room, and knelt by Timothy. “I don’t know how to get these cuffs off.” She worked quickly, using a case hastily torn off its pillow as a tourniquet for his arm. “Stay here and I’ll send help.”

He pinned her with a pointed look. “Catch that jerk and send him on to his next life!”

“I will.” She patted his arm and took off, pulling out her phone as she raced to the elevator. She tapped at the screen and then held it to her ear. “Come on, come on. Answer,” she muttered as she got on the elevator and punched the button for the first floor.

“Theresa? Where are you? You disappeared from the awards ceremony so fast I didn’t get to talk to you.” Cheryl’s voice was clear and calm. It anchored Tessa a bit, helping to get her heart slowed down.

“It . . . it was Lee Stuart,” she said, finally catching her breath. “He’s the one behind Art and Cynthia’s deaths. And more.”

“He—he did what?”

“He saved people slotted to die in the east, so the allotments went to his side. Then, he used them to kill people who weren’t really scheduled to die.” She tapped her foot and watched the light indicate which level she was on. The elevator seemed to be moving slower than usual—they always do.

“But how do you know that?”

“Because he told me right before I . . . before I . . .”

“Spit it out!” her mother scolded.

“Before I reaped him.”

There was silence on the line. If Tessa wasn’t so wound up about finding Lee, she might have celebrated the victory of driving her mother speechless. She couldn’t remember having ever accomplished that before.

But she was distracted by the matter at hand and didn’t have time to bask. “Mom. Lee’s dead. And his spirit escaped. I don’t even know if he’s still in the hotel. I’m going down to the main floor to try and spot him.”

“Okay. It’s just a lot to process. Even for me.”

“It’s not all,” Tessa replied. “Timothy is up in that room where the task force was keeping him. He’s injured. He needs help right away.”

“I’ll go up there now. You find Lee. There are plenty of reapers to help. Be careful.” Cheryl hung up without waiting for Tessa to respond.

The elevator door finally opened, and Tessa hurried out. There were a few people in the lobby, and one of them was Bubba. His expression was bewildered as he focused on Tessa. “Lee Stuart just passed right through my body. What happened? Did Timothy kill him too?”

“No. I did.”

Bubba’s confusion deepened.

She waved a hand before Bubba could say anything else. “I don’t have time to explain. Which way did Lee go? We have to catch him and cross him over.”

He spun around and pointed. “I think toward the bar.”

Tessa ran past Bubba, dodging around other reapers in the lobby and hallway until she skidded to a stop in the bar’s doorway. Frustration boiled up in her chest as she surveyed the place—there were so many reapers there that it was hard to sort out who was who. A spirit would be difficult to spot in the dim room with all the live people milling about.

Bubba arrived next to her, also scanning the room. “I don’t see him.”

“Me either.”

“Let me ask around. Maybe someone saw him go through.” Bubba hurried forward.

Tessa moved into the room, making her way around reapers and trying to look everywhere at once for Lee.

“There you are! Do you want a margarita or a gin and tonic?” Gloria blocked Tessa’s path. She had a cocktail in her hand and a wide smile on her face. “One last party before we head back to the grind.”

Tessa shook her head. “I can’t.” She took Gloria’s glass and set it on a nearby table. “Actually, you can’t either. I need your help.”

“Hey! That was expensive.” Then Gloria snorted out a laugh and waved a hand. “But whatever. I put it on the black card. What’s up?”

“Lee Stuart murdered Art and Cynthia. And a few other people. Actually, who knows how many people he’s killed over the years.” Tessa looked over her friend’s shoulder, trying to spot Lee’s spirit. She scanned the area near the ceiling but didn’t find him.

Chet was one thing. But battling a spirit with the reaper knowledge Lee possessed was going to be difficult. What would happen if he really got away? She didn’t want to think about it.

Gloria looked puzzled. “You mean, Lee was killing people who weren’t scheduled to die?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. And now he’s dead. But his spirit escaped, and I have to find it and cross it over. I need all the help I can get.”

She felt a burst of friendship when Gloria immediately took on a professional air and started scanning the room for Lee.

“Tessa!” Bubba arrived next to the two women. “No one I talked to saw Lee.”

Tessa groaned. “Okay. Where else could he be?” She paused as a sudden thought came to her. “And why would he have come to the bar in the first place? I mean, there are so many reapers here. If his intention is to escape being crossed over, you’d think he’d stay as far away from reapers who could see him and take him over the veil as possible.” Her mind raced to catch up with its own train of thought. “Unless escape isn’t his intention.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Gloria and Bubba exchanged a confused look.

“Maybe he’s after April. You know, for one last opportunity to one-up her.” Tessa leaned forward. “Can a spirit kill a live person?”

Gloria’s brow creased as she considered the question. “I’ve heard of it happening. I think there have to be certain extenuating circumstances. But Lee was a district supervisor. If anyone knows the loopholes, it would probably be him.” She paused. “You think he’s going to try to kill April?”

“I think we have to assume he is.” Tessa spun around again, this time scanning the room for the eastern district supervisor. “Have either of you seen April?”

“Did you say you’re looking for April?” Shirley spoke from the table next to them, where she’d commandeered Gloria’s drink and sucked down half of it already. “I think she went to take one last dip in the pool. You know she’s quite the swimmer.”

“The pool. Come on.” Tessa took off for the door, Gloria and Bubba right behind her.

As they rushed through the lobby, the elevator doors opened, and Cheryl came out, supporting a sagging Timothy.

“Mom! We haven’t found Lee yet. I think he’s after April—at the pool.”

“April!” Timothy was pale, and he cradled his injured arm with the other one. “No! We have to stop him.” He started in the direction of the courtyard pool but stumbled over his own feet.

Cheryl caught him. “You’re not stopping anyone. I’m taking you to the hospital.” She pulled him gently toward the door. Over her shoulder, she said, “Lee is probably a pretty powerful spirit. He had a lot of reaper secrets when he was alive. Don’t underestimate him.”

Her mother’s words sent a chill through Tessa, and she ran faster, losing Bubba while Gloria struggled to keep up in her heels.

“Remember the tether I taught you?” Gloria asked.

“I do.”

“You got this.”

Gloria stopped abruptly and slipped off her shoes while Tessa kept on. She erupted onto the pool deck and then slid to a stop, trying to make sense of what she saw.

No one was there except April, who was in the pool, lazily doing a slow backstroke, eyes fixed above her as she tracked her way across the pool.

There was no Lee, and Tessa felt a flash of relief. They’d been wrong. He wasn’t after April.

She heard someone else arrive and glanced over her shoulder to see that Gloria had made it. She panted, eyes on April before moving to Tessa. “She’s okay,” she said.

“Yeah.”

A splash drew Tessa’s attention back to the pool. April was no longer on the surface. She had dived down.

That was strange. It had really looked like she was doing backstroke laps. And there was an awful lot of water churning for a peaceful underwater swim.

Tessa moved to the edge of pool so she could see April better. The supervisor was twisting in the water, not simply swimming. Her hands and feet flapped wildly as she strained to get back to the surface. But something seemed to be preventing it.

Then Tessa saw it—there were extra hands down there. Ghostly ones that were hard to see in the splashing water. But once she spotted them, the rest of Lee’s spirit-body quickly came into focus. Somehow, he was holding onto April. Keeping her from going up for air.

How was he doing that?

But it didn’t matter how. He was doing it—Lee was powerful in death as he had been in life, just like Cheryl warned. And April probably only had a few moments more to live.

She didn’t have time to say anything to Gloria or Bubba, who had finally arrived too. She just kicked off her shoes and jumped into the pool without thinking.

Tessa silently thanked her parents for their dogged belief that, when you lived in Michigan, water proficiency was a must. They’d put her through years of swimming lessons, and she was pretty good at it.

She swam as fast as possible to the spot where Lee and April fought, having no idea what the plan was once she arrived. The secret of the scythe wouldn’t help her against someone who was already dead.

Lee’s spirit turned its head and spotted her. His face twisted into unmitigated rage, and he roared in anger. The sound came through the water and seemed to have the physical oomph to push Tessa away.

She fought the water pressure to continue forward, straining to reach April. The water churned and rolled, both from the frantic movements of April’s body and from whatever Lee was doing to make it worse.

Tessa couldn’t see much. Without goggles or a face mask, the chlorine made her eyes burn. She shut them tight and surged forward, throwing caution to the wind because April had very little time left.

Her fingertips brushed skin, and Tessa clamped down on April’s arm. She used the other hand and both feet to propel herself upward. Lee’s inhuman roar pounded in her ears along with the water.

It felt like April was made of rocks. Lee was somehow applying more pressure downward than she could apply upward. There was no way Tessa would be able to pull her to the surface. She knew there would come a moment when she’d have to decide between letting the other woman go or taking in water herself. She firmly clamped down on the thought and kicked madly.

Suddenly, April began moving upward. Her body was still extra heavy, but it was a little better. Tessa snuck a look through squinting eyes and saw Gloria on April’s other side. She was helping. Then Bubba appeared in front of them. He grabbed April under the arms and all four of them surged for the surface.

As soon as her face broke through the water, Tessa dragged in air. Beside her, April did too, but then she immediately began coughing. “Take her! Get her out!” Tessa gasped, pushing April toward the other two reapers. She spun in a circle, looking for Lee.

It didn’t take long to find him. Apparently, he wasn’t interested in fleeing. He was right next to her, his snarling spirit face just inches in front of hers.

“It’s over, Lee. Time to go.” She treaded water with one hand while opening a portal with the other.

“I’ll take you with me. I’ll take you all with me.” His ghostly face was so twisted with rage that he looked like a caricature of a devil from some old Renaissance painting.

“Wow. You’re a really unpleasant dude, you know that? But I’m not going to let that happen.” She glanced up at the bright light from the portal above them. Only it didn’t look the way it usually did. Instead of the standard tunnel, with warm yellow lighting, it was darker. Creepier. “Looks like you’re heading to a special spot across the veil, though. I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun there as you tried to have here.”

Lee glanced up, and his expression morphed from furious to fearful.

Tessa took the moment of inattention to pull on her reaper powers and produce a tether. She caught Lee in it easily. Shocked, he writhed and shouted. But he couldn’t go anywhere. He was trapped.

Above them, a figure appeared in the portal. A tall dark man stood there, his shoulder-length hair waving as though there were a slight breeze. Blade nodded approvingly at Tessa and then turned a frown on Lee. He reached out and grabbed the district manager’s spirit and made a yanking motion.

Suddenly, Lee was standing in the portal with Blade, the fear etched even deeper into his spirit features.

Tessa was relieved to be able to use both hands to stay afloat again as she watched the two men disappear across the veil, Lee screaming wordlessly the whole way.

Chapter 21

“I MISS THE HOTEL POOL. And the bar.” Gloria rested her chin on folded arms on the desk. She sighed deeply. “But not the murder and mayhem.”

Tessa leaned on the door jamb of Gloria’s office. “There’s a pool at my apartment building.”

“And a hottie landlord,” Gloria shot back. “You two can pick right up where you left off in Miami.”

“We’ll see. I haven’t decided yet.” Tessa shrugged. “In the meantime, we could keep living as though we’re on vacation. You know—after work. Heaven knows Mist River has enough bars to keep us busy every evening for a year. I mean, as long as we stay away from Frank’s.”

Gloria sat up, her expression brightening. “That’s a great idea. Although I wouldn’t want to put a damper on you and hottie’s relationship.”

Tessa opened her mouth to argue, but Cheryl’s voice calling for her cut off her train of thought.

Why was she so intent on cutting off her relationship with Silas? In Miami, it seemed logical. But here in Mist River, where things were comfortably mundane, she was failing to remember the key points.

Gloria waved Tessa away. “Better see what the boss wants.”

With a grin, Tessa crossed the lobby to her mother’s office. Cheryl sat at the desk watching her computer screen, through which voices floated. Tessa moved to stand behind her mother so she could see the monitor. April and Timothy were on video call. Timothy’s arm was bandaged, but his coloring was back to normal. There was an unidentified purple food stain on the white gauze wrapping that made Tessa smile.

When he saw Tessa come into view, Timothy waved. “There you are. I wanted to say thank you for everything you did.”

She waved back. “I should be thanking you. You saved my life when you prevented Lee from finishing that allotment on his phone in that hotel room. You were really brave.”

Timothy puffed up visibly. “Nah. I’m just a guy who likes numbers. And Lee Stuart was always messing them up. Jerk.”

Tessa smiled again. “Which is why you followed Lydia to that stroke victim. If you hadn’t, I’m not sure we could’ve put the pieces together so easily.”

He nodded. “Even then, I couldn’t narrow it down to Lee. His invisibility made things difficult. But my time in handcuffs ignoring the very bad comedies Bubba liked to watch allowed me to put more together.” He leaned toward the camera. “You did great when I sent you on that reap in Miami. By then, I’d figured out those were extra reaps somehow. I knew those people weren’t supposed to die, but I couldn’t risk telling anyone. And I sent you because I knew you were as after the truth as I was. I figured you’d refuse to do the reap if it felt wrong.” He grinned and sat back again. “I was right.”

She chuckled and glanced at Cheryl. Was it Tessa’s imagination, or did her mother look a little bit proud?

“I owe you my thanks too.” April’s voice was soft but her tone earnest. “We’ve never had such a terrible convention. And I feel partially to blame. Our rivalry was always something, but I never for the life of me thought Lee would go so far. So dark.”

Tessa nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“Really. If you hadn’t found me in the pool exactly when you did—and if you hadn’t jumped in without thinking of your own safety—I wouldn’t be here. Lee’s spirit would have killed me for sure. And he’d probably still be roaming the earth, causing problems for the task force.” She glanced at Timothy.

He nodded. “Turns out Lee had more allocations to fill than he let on. He could have gone on quite the poltergeisterly killing spree.” Timothy’s mouth twisted in disgust.

“What about that? The numbers, I mean. How can they be made right now?” Tessa hoped Timothy wasn’t going to say that a bunch of people had to be chosen to die.

“The big man himself, Mr. Blade, fixed that up,” Timothy said. “A message came through from him this morning. He’s rebalanced the allotments, and we’re starting from scratch. By the way. That was some trick you did in that hotel room. Nice secret Mr. Blade gave you.”

Tessa’s eyes darted toward Cheryl again, but her mother kept her gaze on the computer screen. “Yeah. Well. I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“Back at ya,” Timothy said with a smile.

April grinned and cut off the video.

Tessa sat on the edge of Cheryl’s desk. “They looked good. I’m glad that’s all over.”

Cheryl tipped her head, regarding Tessa. “It’s an awesome and terrible thing to receive a secret from Mr. Blade,” she said in a calm but slightly ominous tone.

Tessa shifted her weight, suddenly both physically and mentally uncomfortable. “Um. Okay.” She didn’t know what her mother was trying to say, but it didn’t matter. She never planned to summon the scythe again. There shouldn’t be any need for her to. But there was something she’d been wondering about. She figured it was as good a time as any to ask. “How many secrets are there? And how many reapers have one?”

The corners of Cheryl’s mouth twitched upward. “We can’t be sure how many there are. And there aren’t many of us entrusted with them. But those of us who have them must guard our secret closely. Use it wisely. Or we risk becoming like Lee Stuart—twisted by its great power.”

Tessa’s back straightened. Had Cheryl said we? “Wait, do you have—"

Cheryl interrupted. “You did well in Florida, dear. It’s time to get back to work now that we’re home. Check your app—you have an assignment in thirty minutes.”

“But . . .”

Cheryl waved a hand. “I have another conference call to attend. There’s a lot to do to make up for losing a district manager—and a task force member. I’m sure I don’t have time for any more small talk.” She clicked at the keyboard, clearly having dismissed her daughter.

Tessa felt a wave of frustration. It seemed like, no matter how much she tried to get Cheryl to open up to her—to share things so they could be closer—her mother just closed off more. She longed for a better relationship. She longed for her mother to trust her. Which reminded her. “Mom, why didn’t I get one of the black cards?”

“Ooooh.” Cheryl sighed. “Right.” She jotted something on a notepad. “I have to send in those expense reports. Yet another thing I have to get done today. Punishment for taking a day off.”

“Mom.” Tessa glared.

Cheryl leaned back in her seat and did a sort of twirling motion with her hand. “Theresa, I did give you a card. It’s in an envelope on your desk. You must’ve missed seeing it before you left.”

Tessa was confident her mother was not telling the truth. Or the envelope had been misplaced. But she couldn’t argue until she’d done a thorough check.

She remembered what Bryce Hanson had told her. He’d said Tessa couldn’t change her mother. The only thing Tessa could control was what kind of daughter she was and hope that, by doing so, it changed their relationship.

Maybe he was right.

On a whim, Tessa crossed the room and leaned over to wrap her mother in a tight hug. “Thanks for everything, Mom. When you have time, I’d love to pick your brain about ways to manage the power of the scythe. You know, responsibly.”

Cheryl stiffened for half a second and then relaxed with a small puff of air. She patted Tessa’s arm and smiled. “I’d like that, dear. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? I’ll make roast chicken.”

Tessa left the office smiling. Though she almost couldn’t stand not knowing what secret Mr. Blade had bestowed upon Cheryl, it felt like she’d made some headway in their relationship. Maybe they could build on that. Get closer. Be better.

And, of course, her mother was right. There, plainly visible on her desk, was an envelope containing the black card. Tessa could’ve sworn it hadn’t been lying there when she’d got in that morning.

She sighed. She wouldn’t push Cheryl. Instead, she’d do her best to be open and loving from her end. Maybe that would change the way they danced together.

In the parking lot, Tessa stopped to look up at the sky. She smiled and sent a silent thank you to Mr. Hanson. Wherever he was.

***

BY THE TIME SHE GOT back to Mist River Manor, Tessa’s thoughts had shifted from Cheryl to Silas. She’d only seen him once since they got home the day before, and that was quick, as Silas had been heading to Mrs. Cross’ apartment to fix a drippy faucet. And Tessa had been heading home to spend some quality time with Pepper.

Abi hadn’t been able to get away from the tortie fast enough. Both Abi and Pepper had been disgruntled with Tessa, and she had some making up to do.

Abi was easy—she loved her gifts of a shirt, some fancy chocolate, and a huge bottle of moderately priced white wine. But the cat was harder. Pepper held a tougher grudge. Tessa was bound to be stuck holding the cat on her lap for many evenings to come—and probably springing for a few cans of fancy cat food—before Pepper thawed and forgave her.

And it had been fine with Tessa that there hadn’t been an opportunity to talk much with Silas since they’d returned. She hadn’t felt ready to face him and deal with all the unanswered questions between them.

But she knew it wasn’t possible to avoid it forever. They saw each other daily. They couldn’t go on like nothing had happened in Miami. Like they hadn’t gotten closer.

Like Silas hadn’t kissed her.

That kiss! Just the thought of it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Tessa couldn’t help worrying. Silas was smart and observant. He already knew something was off—Tessa thought he’d caught on to it from virtually her first day as a reaper. She couldn’t see how there was any way of keeping him in the dark about her job for very long if they were actually dating.

But did that matter? Even if they decided not to be a couple, they were friends. Silas took an interest in Tessa and what went on her life, and that wasn’t likely to change, even if they didn’t dive into a romantic relationship.

As she parked Linda outside Mist River Manor and then sat staring at the building, Tessa thought about it some more. She remembered what Gloria had said—that it would be okay for Tessa to let Silas in on her secret at some point. Would that work? Could they have a relationship after Silas knew Tessa was a reaper?

Miami had proven that Tessa’s job could be a dangerous one. Thankfully, Silas hadn’t been put in danger down there, but what if something similar happened again? Them dating would mean he was around her more. And if he knew the secret, would that put him in danger somehow?

She didn’t know. But as she watched Silas come out the front door of the apartment building and look around, stretching his back, Tessa did know one thing.

She wanted to be with him.

Tessa jumped out of the car and headed toward her handsome landlord, trying to screw up the courage to ask him out. His eyes tracked her across the lot. When she got to within a few feet, he said, “Before I lose my nerve, I have something to ask you.”

She swallowed hard, wondering what he was going to say.

He stepped closer, grabbing her hands in his, and looked her in the eye. “I want you to know that I have feelings for you. I want to explore that—explore having a relationship.”

Tessa let out a breath. She felt relief that she wouldn’t have to ask him. Hot on the heels of the relief was more worry. Something in Silas’s expression wasn’t right. “I . . . I’d like that,” she said softly, hoping that would release whatever tension he had.

But it didn’t. Instead he squeezed her hands again and nodded. “Good. That’s good. There’s just one caveat.”

Her chest squeezed in anticipation. Somehow, she knew what he was going to say.

He swallowed and then gave her a look that was almost pleading. His voice was soft and gentle. “If we’re going to date, you’re going to have to put up with me being busy with my job a lot. I get emergency calls sometimes when something needs to be fixed. If that happens, I might have to leave a nice dinner or duck out in the middle of a movie.”

Tessa felt her shoulders relax. “Oh. That’s okay. I understand. I can definitely work around that.” She felt relieved that he hadn’t said anything about having the feeling that she was keeping something from him.

“Good.” He squeezed her hands again. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. But, also, I have to know our relationship is being built on honesty. So, if we’re going to do this—if we’re going to date—I don’t want there to be anything between us, causing either of us to doubt the other one.”

She nodded. “Neither do I.”

“I’m glad you agree. Because if I’m going to get close to you—if you and I are going to give this a real shot,” he pulled in a deep breath and then said, in a rush of words, “you’re going to need to be honest about what you do. Tell me about your job—about the souls you reap.”

Book 3: Reap What She Sows: Chapter 1

“IF YOU AND I ARE GOING to give this a real shot,” Silas pulled in a deep breath and then said, in a rush of words, “you’re going to need to be honest about what you do. Tell me about your job—about the souls you reap.”

Tessa blinked. In the week they’d spent together in Florida, Silas, her handsome landlord, had turned from friend to something else. Something more. Silas was kind and thoughtful. He was everything her previous boyfriend, Frank, wasn’t. And she felt completely sideswiped by his words.

Of course, it wasn’t possible for all of the air to be sucked out of the space around her, but that was how it felt for a moment. Her ears were ringing. She went cold.

She opened her mouth and then shut it again a couple of times before clamping her lips tightly together to avoid looking like a dying fish—because that was not an attractive look.

She had to admit that she did want to look attractive to the man in front of her. Tessa wanted him to feel how she felt. And she thought he did. Despite the fact he had just effectively outed her super-secret job as a grim reaper.

Slowly, her brain came out of its shock, and Tessa realized she had let too much time go by without answering.

How did he figure it out anyway?

Tessa knew she’d been giving off clues left and right while they were in Miami. This was all her fault. She should never have suggested that Silas use the money their neighbor, sweet Mrs. Cross, had gifted him to go on a vacation in the same place as her grim reaper convention. She’d been asking for trouble.

And there had been plenty of trouble in Florida. A reaper died on the plane and another while snorkeling. Not to mention, when out on a date with Silas, Tessa had been called to perform her duties. Silas had followed her on the job. Luckily, she hadn’t actually reaped a soul then. Still, Silas had still been suspicious of what was going on.

And that hadn’t been the only time he had shown skepticism about Tessa’s cover story—that she was a life insurance agent. During her first week on the job, Chet Sanborn, who was a resident of their apartment building, was murdered. Unfortunately, Tessa had been late to that job and lost his soul. It’d been a mad dash to find and cross him over. Silas had been around the periphery of that crazy situation.

Okay, Tessa. It’s been too long. Say something!

She went over her options. She could tell him the truth. But if she did, it could be dangerous for both of them.

Or she could lie. But lying seemed like a horrible way to start their five-second-old relationship.

She gazed into Silas’s hazel eyes. They were too perfect and intent, waiting for her answer. She looked away from his eyes, studying his square jawline etched with stubble. It was no help either.

“Um.” Oh, fantastic. Just brilliant. Now he’s going to think I’m unattractive and dumb.

Good thing she was watching his jaw because then Silas broke into an adorable grin, showing the dimple in his right cheek, and he winked. “I mean, hanging out with those co-workers of yours was pretty depressing. It felt more like hanging out with a bunch of grim reapers than life insurance agents. You ever think about that?”

“About what?”

“It seems like it has the wrong name.” He chuckled. “But I guess death insurance doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

Tessa barked out an over-the-top laugh, fueled by the relief that she felt. He’d been joking. She quickly reined it in with a gulp.

“Yeah,” she squeaked. “It’s hard enough to sell already. It would probably be even harder to get people to buy it with a name like that.”

“Your co-workers sure have a morbid sense of humor.”

She nodded. “I’m still getting used to that myself. I guess it’s just one of those professions where dark humor can help you get through the hard parts.”

“I can see that.” Silas continued to smile.

A rush of nervous energy hit Tessa in the chest as he reached out and grabbed her hand. She sighed into his touch, lacing her fingers with his. It amazed her how new relationships always felt similar. This was the same sort of excitement she’d felt in middle school when she’d held hands with Trevor Adams on the bus.

“Well, don’t you two look like peas in a pod?”

They both turned toward the voice. Tessa couldn’t decide if she was relieved or annoyed at the interruption.

Old Mrs. Cross hobbled toward the building. She wasn’t exactly Tessa’s favorite person—she’d told everyone who would listen that Tessa probably killed Chet Sanborn. But Tessa had been raised to be respectful of elders, and the woman had given Silas a lovely gift of money when she won some from a scratch-off ticket.

Mrs. Cross stopped in front of them, leaned on her flower-patterned cane, and peered, first at Tessa, then at Silas, and then down to their interlocked hands. The old woman was hunched at the shoulders. She craned her neck to see their faces. Tessa wondered how much taller the woman had been in her youth, before age had weighed her down.

“Are you two an item now?” she croaked.

Tessa thought there was a hint of jealousy in her tone. She felt a squirm gathering in her spine and tried to fight it off, not wanting to act like a naughty schoolgirl in front of the woman. She let go of Silas’s hand and shifted her eyes away from Mrs. Cross’s stone gaze. She found her shoes instead, a pair of red Chuck Taylors.

Next to her, Silas’s voice was smooth and light. “Well, I don’t know if item is the right word, but Tessa and I are dating.” He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her in closer to his side.

Tessa blew out the breath she’d been holding and relaxed. Lifting her chin, she met Mrs. Cross’s gaze again, more confident this time.

“Well, I suppose that’s just fine, then,” Mrs. Cross said with a nod. “Both of you are good-looking and about the same age. Same socioeconomic status too, I’ll wager.” She nodded again and then moved forward, forcing Tessa and Silas to leap apart or have their feet tromped on by her cane as she elbowed between them.

For the second time in a ten-minute span, Tessa found her jaw dropped open. Mrs. Cross certainly wasn’t up on political correctness, with her talk about them being attractive and all that. She glanced at Silas, who grinned back at her and gave her a wink. Tessa had been right—there was definitely some jealousy there.

“Silas, dear,” Mrs. Cross grabbed his elbow to steady herself, “my showerhead is dripping. You’ll need to come by and fix it this afternoon while I’m at my hair appointment. I don’t want to have to listen to your tools making a big noise in that echoey bathroom.”

She let go of his arm, and Silas rushed forward to open the door for Mrs. Cross just as she arrived at it. “You bet, Mrs. Cross. I’ll take care of that showerhead while you’re at your appointment. It’ll be good as new when you get back.”

The elderly woman reached up and patted his cheek. “Such a good boy,” she said as she disappeared into Mist River Manor’s lobby.

Silas turned back toward Tessa. “She sure is a pistol, isn’t she?”

“That’s one word for it, I guess.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. She’s rough around the edges, that’s for sure. I just try to keep her happy. At her age, she deserves that.”

Tessa crossed her arms and gave him a mischievous look. “I really don’t think that meeting the unreasonable demands of old ladies is part of your job description.”

“It’s not just the old ladies I try to keep happy. I want everybody to enjoy living here.”

“I seem to remember you giving me a hard time when I couldn’t make rent on time every month,” she teased.

He widened his eyes to look innocent. “I don’t own this place. I’m just the landlord. When it comes to the accounting, my hands are tied. Besides, I always tried to give you a few extra days whenever I could.” He tipped his head. “But you seem to be making enough at this new job that it isn’t an issue anymore.”

Oops. Too late, Tessa realized her mistake. The conversation had steered away from her job as a grim reaper, and here she’d brought it right back around to the same spot she’d been trying to avoid.

“Hey, do you want to have dinner tonight?”

Shew! He hadn’t taken the opportunity to question her more about her job. This time. Tessa knew it would come up again, though. She was going to have to practice not imitating a tongue-tied fish every time he did if she wanted this relationship to work.

“Dinner sounds great! You should come to my place.” Wait. What? Why in the world had she said that?

“Oh, wow. I’d love a chance to try your cooking. How about I come by around six?”

“Six is perfect!” She smiled through a wince. Aargh. It was as though her mouth was not attached to her brain at all. Why did that happen to her so often? She should really talk to a doctor about it.

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you then.”

With a heart-stoppingly gorgeous smile, Silas leaned in and kissed Tessa’s cheek before allowing her to step through the open door.

Her heart started pounding again as she crossed the lobby. Why had she invited Silas to her place? That was the worst possible idea. The most obvious reason for that being she was a terrible cook. Her mind raced through the dishes she knew how to make, and she grimaced.

She couldn’t make him ramen—they weren’t broke college students. Mac and cheese was out too because it didn’t always turn out great for Tessa. More often than not, it was either too mushy or overly crunchy.

Okay, okay. Calm down, Tessa. You can figure this out. Google is your friend.

She knew Silas liked empanadas. Maybe she could find an easy recipe for that.

Tessa felt a little better. Until she opened the door to her apartment.

She groaned and slumped into the door frame.

The place was an absolute wreck. Like, hurricane-level messy. Every piece of clothing she owned was strewn across the floor and furniture. Dishes sat piled in the sink and spilling out onto the counter next to it. And there were clumps of cat fur dotting the living room carpet.

Cat fur. Oh, no. She was absolutely not supposed to have a cat.

As though the thought had conjured her, Pepper sauntered over and rubbed on Tessa’s shins. With a little shriek, Tessa bolted the rest of the way through the doorway and shut the door tightly behind her.

She couldn’t have Silas come over. He’d see Pepper. Even though they were dating, he’d feel bound to tell her to get rid of the pet because those were the rules. And she couldn’t ask him to risk his job for her sassy ball of fur.

She let her head clunk back against the door. “What am I going to do?”

Pepper purred loudly and headed for the kitchen, apparently thinking the answer to Tessa’s rhetorical question was that it was cat food time.

“Cuz you always think with your stomach, you brat.” But Tessa obediently followed Pepper and dumped some kibble into her bowl. “There.”

The tortie sat and looked up at her, grumpiness written all over her face.

“No. I’m not giving you canned food. You’re getting chunky. You can have some canned food tomorrow morning.” Tessa crossed her arms and tried to sound firm.

Pepper yowled and then stalked away, leaving the kibble untouched.

Tessa narrowed her eyes at the cat’s retreating tail. Maybe her friend, Abi, would take the cat for the evening, so Silas wouldn’t see her.

But she shook her head to dismiss the idea. If she and Silas were going to be dating, he would be at her apartment sometimes. She couldn’t hide the food, litter, and fur. And she couldn’t deposit Pepper at Abi’s every time. Abi absolutely hated the cat after babysitting her while Tessa was in Florida.

No, if the cat was going to cause an issue between them, it was probably better to get it over with right away.

With that decided, Tessa puffed a piece of dark hair out of her eyes, rolled up her sleeves, and attacked the dirty dishes.

Letting him see the cat was one thing. She didn’t need to reveal her slobby side to the man quite yet. Because, as much as she tried to tell herself the place was messy because she’d lost control of it between packing for Florida, being gone, and jumping right back into work when she got home, the truth was her apartment was always a wreck.

As she scrubbed dirty dishes, Tessa’s mind wandered, and she felt a twinge of discomfort.

Was it fair to Silas to begin a relationship with him when he didn’t know the whole truth about her life? And she really didn’t intend to tell him anytime soon.

After all, having a cat, being a bit of a slob, and not having any sort of cooking skills whatsoever was just the tip of her secret-berg.

Chapter 2

IT TURNED OUT THAT, according to the internet, empanadas were way too complicated. That wasn’t exactly true. The internet tried to make everything sound simple. But Tessa could read through the lines of every recipe and video she found. She wasn’t going to be able to make them. Not now, probably not ever.

She spent a frantic ten minutes pulling all the ingredients she could find out of her cupboards onto the counter. Then she rummaged through the refrigerator and freezer, finally deciding her best bet was spaghetti. That shouldn't be too hard to mess up—it only required that she boil some noodles, brown some meat, and add some sauce.

Plus, in the back of the freezer, she’d found a forgotten loaf of garlic bread that made her fist pump the air in victory. Maybe this would be a good dinner after all.

Once the sauce with meat was simmering and she’d added the noodles to boiling water, Tessa made a pass through the house, gathering every bit of clothing she came upon into her arms. She tossed the whole pile into the closet in her bedroom, giving it a kick to get it all inside. The door didn’t want to close, but she managed to heave it shut with a grunt of satisfaction.

The apartment looked much better when she walked back through. And there was no way Silas would ever go into her bedroom and peek in the closet. Not only would he think she was a good cook, but, hopefully, he'd also believe she was a neat and tidy person.

She pulled the vacuum out of the closet in the hallway and had to spend a little time fiddling with the unfamiliar controls to get it the right height for the area rug in the living room, which confirmed what she already knew in her heart—she didn't vacuum up Pepper’s fur balls nearly often enough.

It was getting close to six. She lit a vanilla-scented candle in the living room, crossed her arms, and looked around. She was going to pull this off. She pushed back her shoulders, feeling a bit smug.

Then the smoke alarm went off in the kitchen.

With a squeal, Tessa raced into the room. Smoke billowed out of the noodle pan. Luckily, she had the foresight to grab a hot mitt before pulling the pan off the heat. She waited for the big billow of smoke to dissipate before she carefully peeked in, against a wave of trepidation.

Tessa groaned. The pot had run dry, and what had once been noodles was now a pile of unrecognizable, charred material stuck to the bottom of the pan.

After she’d redone the noodles—luckily she had another box, and this time she stood right in front of the stove and watched it like a hawk—Tessa had to rush to get herself changed and ready, barely finishing applying her mascara before she heard a knock at the door.

For as much as her nerves were jittering over the state of her apartment and whether dinner would be edible, Tessa felt a thrill of anticipation about having another date with Silas. They'd had such a good time going out in the evenings after her work conference presentations in Florida. But, somehow, having him over to her apartment for a nice, intimate dinner felt much more as though they were dating and less like were just meeting up as friends.

As she hurried out of the bedroom, Tessa found Pepper sitting just inside the doorway with her head tilted.

“I know that look," Tessa hissed. "You stay out of sight and don't make trouble. If you do that—if and only if you do that—I’ll give you half a can of cat food after Silas leaves."

For good measure, Tessa closed the bedroom door with the cat inside. Maybe Silas wouldn't notice the food bowls and Tessa could continue to get away with having a pet in the apartment, even though she wasn't supposed to.

She didn't have to fake the smile on her face when she opened the door. Tessa was genuinely glad to welcome Silas in. "You look handsome."

He waved his hands up and down his own body with a flick of the wrists. "This old thing?" He shrugged. “It's basically my only nice outfit, so it doesn't get worn too often.”

“Jeans and a plaid flannel shirt are your only nice outfit?” Tessa stepped to the side so Silas could enter.

“I live in Michigan—what do you expect my nice clothes to look like?”

Tessa chuckled. “I suppose plaid and denim are just fine. This place is a little bit messy. Sorry about that."

She wasn't kidding either. She’d missed a few things. There were still magazines strewn across the coffee table, a few dirty dishes she hadn’t gotten to piled on the kitchen counter, and a layer of dust covering the TV shelf in the living room. But that was fine with her. After all, she really didn't want to offer up a complete facade of what her life was like.

But he didn't need to know that a half-hour earlier, virtually every piece of clothing she owned had littered the place from one end to the other.

"Looks good to me," he said, “and smells even better." He sniffed the air, reminding her of a bloodhound. "Is that spaghetti and . . . vanilla?”

Tessa grinned and waved a hand. "The vanilla isn’t edible. It’s just a candle. I did make spaghetti and—oh no!" She darted for the kitchen, remembering she’d shoved the garlic bread into the oven before she went to put on her makeup.

She grabbed hot mitts and opened the oven door, expecting to again see black smoke billowing in her kitchen. She was pleasantly surprised. Golden brown bread, bubbling away, greeted her with the heavenly smell of garlic and butter. With a sigh of relief, she pulled out the pan and set it on the empty stove burners.

"That looks great." Silas leaned on the doorjamb. "I love Italian."

“Well, unless you love Americanized Italian, you’re out of luck. Because we’re dining on Italian-American, mostly out of a jar, tonight.”

He dipped his head, dimples popping in his cheeks. “American-Italian out of a jar is my favorite kind of Italian. I mean, really, is there another way?"

She smirked, thinking of her mother. Cheryl cooked everything from scratch and was a master chef in the kitchen. Those genes hadn’t passed down to her. She’d gotten her father’s cooking skills. Alone one weekend, with her mother gone to a conference—which Tessa now realized was the reaper conference like she’d just attended—her father had burnt a record number of grilled cheese sandwiches before giving up and ordering pizza.

“Do you need a hand with anything?” Silas asked.

“Yeah, grab a plate out of there." She gestured at a cupboard over her head. “And here’s a towel. You can make sure the bread stays warm while I drain the noodles."

As soon as the words were out of Tessa’s mouth, she realized she’d made a horrible mistake. She'd taken the noodles off the heat but left them in the hot water while she went to change her clothes.

With a wince, she peered into the pot. They looked all right. Maybe everything would be fine. At the very least, they weren’t a pile of stinky ash like the pot she’d shoved under the sink in hopes the stench wouldn’t escape.

When she got to the tiny dining room table just outside the kitchen with the drained noodles and sauce, she found that Silas had not only taken care of the garlic bread, but he’d also found plates, silverware, and cups and set two places.

“Oh! That reminds me.” She set down the food, turned on her heel, and went back into the kitchen to retrieve the bottle of Merlot she’d opened and left to breathe a while earlier. For half a second, she felt proud for orchestrating a lovely meal.

The pride only lasted a few more minutes because when Tessa bit into her pasta, it was mushy and all stuck together. “Oh, no. I overcooked the noodles.”

But Silas was munching away. Around a bite, he said, “I think it’s awesome. It tastes just like my mom’s spaghetti. With us kids always around, she must've overdone the noodles too. Normally, I don't like anybody else's spaghetti. I guess most people cook the noodles al dente. Not my style.”

She pursed her lips and studied his face. Was he for real or just trying to make her feel better?

With a tiny shrug, Tessa decided she didn't care. She chose to believe Silas liked the meal, and she dug in, determined to enjoy it too, even though it was a bit—well, actually a lot—on the mushy side.

As they both finished their spaghetti, Tessa suddenly realized something. "I'm so sorry. I don't have anything for dessert."

Silas pushed his plate aside and pulled the wine goblet in front of him. "This is good enough for me. I'm stuffed. Thank you for dinner." Suddenly, he leaned forward and locked eyes with her. "But you really have to do something about the cat. You know you're not allowed to have one."

Her eyes fluttered for a second. How did he know about Pepper?

Then, she sighed as she caught sight of the tortie’s tail peeking out from under the table. Tessa leaned sideways to see that the cat was weaving her way in a figure-eight around Silas’s feet. "How did you get out?" she demanded.

"Out? Did she lock you in somewhere?" Silas sounded shocked, and he leaned down to scratch Pepper’s forehead.

"Um. Well, I just thought it would be nice to eat without her fur flying into our food. We’re lucky she’s not on the table."

"Really? So, you didn't lock her away so I wouldn't happen to see her?" A muscle jumped in his lip, and Tessa realized he was holding back a smile.

She blew out a breath. "Okay, I'm sorry. And, by the way, I think she may be more than a cat. Like, I suspect the little brat may be part witch or something because I have no idea how she managed to open a closed bedroom door and get out here. Seriously, though, you have to let me keep her. I don't have anyone to give her to."

"What about your mom? Didn't you tell me she lives alone? Maybe she could use some company."

"My mom?" Tessa leaned back and barked out a laugh. "No, my mom does not need a cat. I mean, yes, she lives alone, but no, she doesn't need a companion. She doesn't get along with roommates very well. Other than my dad, that is, and he . . . he passed away."

"Maybe she's lonely. You can't assume she wouldn't want a roommate, can you?"

"Oh, I think I can. My mom likes things just so. I couldn't get out of her house fast enough when I went to college, and I never went back home. Mom’s never had any kind of a pet or roommate or anything else like that since I left. If it was something she wanted, she could've gotten it for herself a long time ago."

He held up his hands, palms out. "Okay, okay. I'll pretend like I didn't see her here tonight. But you have to keep her away from the windows."

Tessa pulled the cat, who had left Silas and come to rub on her shins, into her lap. "I will." She rubbed her face on Pepper’s. "You'll stay away from the windows, won't you, girl?"

"Does she understand English?"

"She understands it well enough to do the exact opposite of everything I ask her to do," Tessa said. She tossed the cat gently onto the floor. "So, what do you have planned for tomorrow?"

"I have a ton to do to get this place ready for winter. There's some caulking, some nailing, some siding replacement, some painting, and lots of getting the pool ready to winterize. You know, all the fun stuff. How about you?"

She shrugged. "Same old, same old. Just another day at work."

“Riiiight. Work.”

“Work,” she repeated. “Selling life insurance.”

"You're still sticking to that story, huh?”

The flash of irritation in her gut surprised Tessa. But she couldn’t push it down. How many times were they going to have to revisit this topic? She’d thought the conversation they’d had earlier would be the end of it, at least for a while.

But here he was, trying to poke holes in her story again.

Without taking a moment to think better of it, she snapped, “Can we give that a rest, please?”

Silas’s jaw dropped a fraction before he snapped it shut. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right about that job of yours. It just . . . feels like there’s something more to it than selling life insurance.” He twirled the wine glass between his fingers. “I keep thinking about that girl on the pier. The one who almost fell in.”

“Dani.” The name came out before Tessa could stop it.

A line appeared on Silas’s forehead. “Yeah. Dani. Funny that you remember her name. That whole thing seemed so strange. I swear it was like you knew it was going to happen ahead of time and rushed straight to that spot to save her.” He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, as though Pepper may overhear and spread gossip about it. “Are you . . . are you, like, a superhero or something?”

The bit of irritation had flared into something brighter as Silas spoke. “No, I’m not. I’m just a life insurance agent.”

“Right. Just a life insurance agent. But for real, if you are a superhero, I’m happy to be your Mary Jane. Or Lois Lane—I’d make a great reporter. You know, there really isn’t a guy version of those two. What a crock.”

“Silas, I’m not a hero.”

“Something is up though. I can see you want to tell me. You should just do it.”

“Nothing is up! If you can’t accept what I tell you, then maybe this whole thing is a bad idea.”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

But it was too late. Silas’s jaw clenched. He pushed back from the table. “You know, I think I’m going to head home. Long day tomorrow. Do you need help with dishes or anything?”

A lump formed in her throat. She wanted to apologize for being so mean. But the words wouldn’t come. She just shook her head.

“Okay. Well, thanks again for dinner. It really was just like my mom’s. I’ll see you later, Tessa.”

And, just like that, he was gone, and Tessa was staring at the closed door, hating the sudden silence.

She felt terrible.

Chapter 3

IT TOOK TESSA'S BRAIN a few minutes to properly identify the input and process it as something happening to her physical body rather than a dream occurrence. When it did, the awful dream she was having ended. It was something to do with sandpaper—her mother using it to scrub off paint on Tessa’s elbow. Only now, with the dream over, there was still something rough and moist lashing over and over her skin like an old cassette tape on repeat.

Tessa bolted upright in bed. Pepper sat beside her, looking innocent.

Tessa rubbed her arm and scolded. "Really? Licking me with that horrible tongue without my consent? I was fast asleep. That's pretty rude."

The cat didn't act contrite in the slightest. She reached out and gave Tessa's arm another swipe with her barbed tongue.

Tessa jerked her arm away and shrieked, "Stop that! You're not getting any canned food anyway. We had a deal. You didn't stay away from Silas last night."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Tessa groaned and put her face in her hands.

Silas. Had they really fought last night? Is that what that had been?

But that wasn’t the only reason she held her head in her hands. It felt heavy, and she was having trouble remembering the details about last night with Silas because she’d finished the bottle of wine alone after he left.

A full cup of water sat untouched on the nightstand. A good thought, had she drunk any of it.

She sipped and made herself think about the previous evening for a few minutes. She and Silas hadn't really had a back-and-forth type of argument, but she hadn't been very nice to him when he asked about her job. He’d left pretty abruptly.

Yep. That had definitely been a fight.

Tessa felt horrible, and not just from the hangover. She shouldn't have reacted the way she did to Silas’s questions. The only reason she had was because she felt so insecure about that entire subject. Should she come clean and tell him that she was a reaper? Or keep grasping for a lie that he would accept?

It felt terrible to lie when they were just embarking on a new relationship but telling him made her feel uneasy too. To an outsider, her job would be pretty unbelievable. Chances were, he wouldn’t even believe her.

But she was going to have to make a decision about how to handle this issue and then stick to it. Waffling, even in her own mind, wasn’t working out at all.

Tessa hauled herself out of bed and grabbed the phone to check the reaper app. It'd become a habit to do that first thing in the morning, so she didn't miss any assignments. Sure enough, there was one waiting for her, and she checked the time of death against the digital clock on the end table. She had forty-five minutes.

Tessa scrolled through the assignment to see where she needed to go and frowned, not recognizing the address. Luckily, the reaper app was set up for such things, and she tapped the screen until a map pulled up. It didn't look like it would be hard to find, and it wasn't too far away. Tessa decided she had time for a quick shower, but she'd have to miss breakfast if she did that.

A grumbling rumble in her stomach made it clear that Tessa's body was more interested in breakfast than a shower. So, she only washed her face, ran a brush through her long, dark hair, and pulled on jeans and a sweater before heading toward sustenance.

Pepper did her best to trip Tessa all the way down the hallway, through the living room, and into the kitchen. "No. I said you can’t have any canned food. Here's your kibble." Tessa sprinkled some dry food into the cat’s bowl. Pepper gave her a look of extreme betrayal, and it made Tessa giggle. "Okay, okay. You can have a quarter of a can. How's that?"

Pepper licked her nose and appeared eager, so Tessa took that as acquiescence and dished out the cat food. Then she got a pot of coffee started, poured herself a bowl of cereal, and carried it to the dining room table.

The scene of the crime. She tried not to think about Silas while she ate but wasn't very successful. She racked her brain, trying to figure out how she could make things right with him.

And she did want to make things right. He was a good guy, and she had a feeling he'd make a fantastic boyfriend. They just had to get through this rough patch.

Once she’d filled a giant glittery purple travel mug with hot java and petted Pepper goodbye, Tessa left the apartment. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to run into Silas in the lobby or not. A glance at her fitness watch—which she used almost exclusively for telling time and fashion and almost never for fitness—told her she didn’t have the time to run into him.

Luckily, the lobby was empty, and Tessa scooted out without having to talk to anyone.

Linda, Tessa's 1981 Buick LeSabre, fired right up. Tessa let out a breath, relieved. For a long time, Linda had been sort of finicky, but she'd been reliable enough never to leave Tessa stranded anywhere. At least since Silas had taken over her upkeep, the car had been running better than it had in years. Still, whenever Tessa was on a deadline—especially to get to a reap—she was always a bit nervous about the car's performance.

Tessa set her phone on the passenger seat with the reaper app open to the map screen. She gulped coffee as fast as possible while she drove. She was grateful when the dull pounding in her head began to recede as the caffeine hit her bloodstream.

The destination was just outside of Mist River, where the properties were large and the homes even bigger. It had always been strange to Tessa that Mist River was such a sleepy little town but that this sprawling neighborhood of mansions was so close. Cheryl said most of the people who owned them worked in the big city and either commuted daily or the family stayed in Mist River while the breadwinner only came home on the weekends.

Tessa remembered attending a few house parties in this neighborhood during high school. The extravagance had shocked her. One place had both an indoor and outdoor pool. Two beautiful pools! At the time, Tessa had to go to the local YMCA to use one pool—and that one had broken tiles with green stuff growing around the edges and questionable chlorine levels.

The assignment’s address delivered Tessa to the mouth of a driveway so long that she couldn't see the house at the end of it. The driveway was paved and lined with huge maples on both sides, the branches of which leaned in toward each other, meeting in a canopy high above the ground.

Wow. In another month or so, that would make a stunning tunnel of gold, yellow, and red. It almost made her want to make a note to come back and see it when autumn leaves were at their peak.

About ten feet into the driveway stood a spectacular wrought iron gate in two pieces designed to meet and lock in the center. Only one side was open. If Tessa scooted the car a tiny bit onto the shoulder, she’d be able to squeeze the LeSabre through the opening.

That's weird. You'd think a place like this would be locked up tight all the time.

But a glance at the clock told Tessa she didn't have time to consider such things. She only had about five minutes to find Mr. Artemis Green before he died.

She gave Linda a little bit of gas to nudge her through the gate, but the car didn't respond other than to let out an ominous cough-bark-wheeze sound. Tessa pushed the gas again, a bit more insistently, but it was no use. Linda's engine sputtered to a stop. With a quick curse, Tessa twisted the key in the ignition. "Come on, come on," she muttered.

But Linda didn't even attempt to start up. There was just . . . nothing.

Tessa chewed on her bottom lip for a second, debating what to do. She looked at her watch. There wasn't much of a choice. She grabbed her phone, jumped out of the car, and ran up the driveway.

She estimated the driveway was about a quarter mile long, and by the time the house came into view, Tessa was mouth-breathing in an attempt to drag enough oxygen into her lungs to power her legs. Pain exploded in her side, and she leaned over, trying to relax the stitch while berating herself for not hitting the treadmill more often. Or at all.

Still gasping, she craned her neck to gawk at the gorgeous architectural structure in front of her.

The place was gigantic, towering at least four stories high, with grand turrets in three spots on top of it. The grounds surrounding the house were immaculate. It looked like someone had gone around trimming the grass with a pair of scissors, and the flowerbeds didn't appear to have a single weed among them. They were filled with beautifully trimmed hedges, rosebushes with flowers in every hue, and gorgeous orange, yellow, white, and brilliant purple gladiolus. Tessa recognized rhododendron bushes that were almost two stories high. Though the time for them to flower had long past, she could imagine how striking they would look in late spring.

The house’s footprint would probably take up a Mist River city block, and a huge porch stretched the entire length of its front and wrapped around both sides.

Tessa only considered sprinting up the steps and knocking on the door for an instant. But her instincts and the recent reaper training in Miami told her that was foolish. She’d almost certainly run into staff members or perhaps Mr. Green's family if she tried to make a frontal assault like that.

She straightened, feeling glad the stitch in her side had eased, and sprinted around the side of the house. Movement to the left caught her eye, and she lunged behind a hedge.

Okay. Get yourself together. Remember what you learned at the conference.

At the time, the presentation about keeping to the shadows had seemed laughable. But now she had to use the information, so Tessa wracked her brain to remember what Bubba had said.

So far, she hadn’t done a great job of sticking to any shadows. She’d taken in the lovely architecture but just now spotted the two cameras perched at the corners of the house. She made a note to steer clear of them and to look out for more.

For a second, she wished for the secret of invisibility that the original grim reaper had bestowed upon Lee Stuart. He hadn’t deserved it, but she could sure make good use of it now. A glance around the hedge told her it was a gardener she’d seen moving about, and she was still out there, trimming fruit tree branches with a huge pinchy tool.

She really should pay more attention when her mother tried to teach her about taking care of plants.

Tessa looked around wildly, knowing without checking that she was running out of time to get to Artemis Green. She couldn’t miss his death and lose his soul.

Been there. Done that. Got the T-shirt.

She crouched low and darted to the next hedge, staying close to the house and keeping an eye on the gardener. She continued that way, needles falling into her hair and branches scraping her arms, until she got around the house into the back yard.

Tessa didn't see anyone, but the expanse of the area was huge. The landscape was dotted with flower beds, small groves of trees, and even a couple bubbling fountains with seating around them. About an acre away stood a huge red barn, complete with a couple of horses in an attached paddock.

There could easily be someone tucked into one of those areas, working, and Tessa wouldn’t be able to see them.

She studied the back of the house. The wraparound porch extended all the way along its length, too, and Tessa counted at least four doors on this side of the house. She wasn’t sure which one to try.

With a frown, she pulled out her phone and checked the reaper app again, quickly scanning the assignment details. The kitchen. It was supposed to happen in the kitchen on the west side of the house.

She slipped the phone into her pocket, checked for a camera, then quickly climbed the stairs onto the porch, making her way to the westernmost doorway. She was in the open now, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d need to rely on being quick to keep from being spotted if anyone was in the back yard to spot her.

When she got to the door, Tessa drew in a deep breath and reached out to try it. When it gave under her hand and opened, she let the breath out and popped her head through the doorway. Yes! It was a kitchen. A huge, gleaming, stainless steel kitchen that looked like it should be absolutely bustling with staff, creating meals for dozens of people at a time.

Only it wasn't. There was only one person visible in the kitchen, and he had his back to Tessa. He sat at the bar in a corner of the kitchen, which was made up to be a breakfast nook, surrounded by walls of windows overlooking the back gardens.

For a second, she wondered if the man with a salt-and-pepper crewcut and a green polo shirt tucked carefully into black slacks was Artemis Green, her assignment, or someone else. He almost looked too young and fit to be the seventy-five years he was supposed to be.

But when the man's spine stiffened and then quickly slumped, his head diving straight into his cereal bowl, Tessa knew she had the right person.

In a few seconds, Artemis Green's soul rose from his body. He glanced at Tessa and then back at his body, which was still.

Spirit Artemis tsked as milk flowed over the edges of the bowl and onto the bar. "What a pity. If I'd known this would be my last meal, I would've chosen the marshmallow cereal over the bran."

"Hey, I had marshmallow today!" Tessa blurted out. Then she winced, pretty sure she committed a faux pas.

But Artemis grinned. "Good for you. Of course, it's good to keep your body healthy, but we should all splurge once in a while. After all, you never know when your last day will be, even if you take excellent care of yourself."

Tessa studied the man, both the spirit and physical versions. "It looks like you were in great shape."

He nodded. "Oh, yes. I saw my doctor just last week. Had a stress test and he said the old ticker was like one a thirty-year-old man would have. I exercised at least a couple of hours a day—cardio and weight training. My cholesterol was tip-top, and I never had a lick of trouble with my blood pressure. Of course, my life wasn't without stress.” A shadow passed over his expression. He shook it off and smiled. “But, in general, I was very healthy."

Tessa shook her head sadly and flicked a wrist to open a portal to the other side of the veil. As bright light spilled over them, Artemis looked at his body one last time. “I don’t think that bran tasted quite right. I should know because I had it every day for fifteen years. No, as I said, I was healthy as one of the horses in the barn out back.” He pinned her with eyes that still managed to look sharp, even though they were in the face of a semi-transparent spirit. “I think you'll find that I didn't die of natural causes. I'm sure I was poisoned."

Tessa was still pondering what he’d said after she released the path across the veil. But she knew it was important for her to get out of there before someone saw her. Figuring that heading back the way she’d come was her best bet for staying hidden, she turned on her heel to head out the back door but staggered to a halt after only one step, a gasp erupting from her throat.

His face the same cream color as the kitchen walls around him and his jaw hanging slack, Silas stood between Tessa and the back door.

Chapter 4

FOR WHAT FELT LIKE five minutes but was probably about half a second, Tessa mirrored Silas’s shocked expression. Then, she sprang forward.

“We have to get out of here,” she hissed.

But Silas was craning his neck to get a better look at Mr. Green. Tessa ducked around him. She grabbed him by the elbow, spun him around, and yanked him toward the door.

But his feet were planted. He may as well have been a giant boulder for as far as she was able to move him. Like a dog hitting the end of a leash, Tessa jerked to a stop and lurched backward a bit, bungling into him. This sent her landlord’s formerly inert feet the other direction—toward the deceased body.

He steadied himself on the back of Mr. Green’s chair. Touching objects in and around a reap was definitely something Bubba had mentioned as a faux pas. Although Tessa had been guilty of it before. It was the new information—the notion that Mr. Green believed he’d been poisoned—that made Tessa cringe.

He let go, and she wiped his prints away with the underside of her shirt.

“We really have to go.” She’d either have to keep going without him or stay there. And she knew that, like it or not, it was her fault Silas was there. She couldn’t just leave him.

“What just happened?” Silas’s voice was hushed but not a whisper, like Tessa would’ve preferred.

Her eyes darted toward the second doorway in the kitchen, the one that led to the rest of the house, and she licked her lips. “I’ll explain, but we have to go.”

Silas shook his head a fraction in each direction. He looked over his shoulder at Artemis’s body. “He’s dead, you know.”

Tessa nodded. “He is.”

“Is he one of your clients?”

“I guess you could say that. Silas, I’m serious. We have to go. Now!” She kept watching the doorway. If someone came through it, they would see Tessa and Silas immediately. There was no way they could blend in with the stainless steel appliances. Especially since Silas seemed to be still trying to hold on to the Florida vibes.

He was still tanned. And he was wearing a short sleeve, button-down shirt that had an orange background and was covered in yellow, blue, and salmon-colored flowers—not something most Michiganders wore when fall touched the air.

“We should probably call 9-1-1,” Silas said, still unmoving.

“No. We should go. I’m trying to tell you we need to leave.”

“Tessa, did you kill that man?” He jabbed a finger toward the body. Tessa reached out and snatched Silas’s hand, pulling him toward the door again. “I promise you’ll get all your answers. But not here. As soon as we’re out of here, I’ll tell you everything.”

Tessa realized she wasn’t lying. She would tell Silas the truth. The whole truth. In hindsight, she wished she already had.

Silas moved, then, though he still seemed reluctant. Whatever. Tessa would take it. As long as he was walking, she could work with that.

Her heart pounded as they rushed through the back door onto the porch and ran down its length. Tessa tried to use the skills she’d acquired in years of dance to bounce on the balls of her feet quietly as she ran. Silas seemed to take a hint from what she was doing, and she could only hear the barest of footfalls behind her.

Wow. She remembered he’d played baseball. Maybe he was incorporating his base running skills. Whatever it was, she was grateful that he was light on his feet. Hopefully, they wouldn’t draw any attention.

But that was more than could be hoped for. As they neared the end of the house, Tessa glanced toward the horse barn and saw four gorgeous specimens lined up against the fence, staring at her and Silas curiously.

Well, at least the horses couldn’t blab about who they’d seen.

“Come on,” she whispered over her shoulder. “We need to go faster.” She dropped Silas’s hand and darted around the corner, keeping close to the house, behind the hedges, again.

When they got to the front of the house, there was nowhere else to remain under cover. If it was just Tessa, she may have tried to stay toward the edge of the lawn, among the landscaping there, but Silas’s shirt was never going to blend in with Michigan’s flora. So, she decided the best thing they could do was simply make a run for it.

She pumped her arms and legs and ran straight down the middle of the driveway. She could hear Silas just behind her, allowing her to lead the way.

They made it about halfway, and Tessa was just beginning to think maybe they’d be okay, when the mansion behind them seemed to erupt into chaos.

It began with one horrendously loud screech, and Tessa knew someone had found Artemis Green. After that, multiple shouts and screams drifted to them from behind. Tessa put on speed, ignoring the aching muscles that were screaming for more oxygen. She scooted through the still-open gate and skidded to a halt next to Linda, dragging open the door and throwing herself inside. She was gratified when Silas climbed in the passenger seat without further trying to slow her down. But when she turned the key in the ignition, Linda didn’t respond at all.

“No!” she cried. “Not now.” Tessa knew it had been too much to hope that the car had gotten over whatever snit she’d been in when they arrived at the mansion. She shot Silas a horrified look.

He was staring at her, not much having changed in his expression or complexion since she’d first turned around to find him in the kitchen. “I knew you were lying to me, but I never expected this.”

Tessa tried firing up the car again. This time, an annoying clicking sound was Linda’s only response. “I know this looks crazy bad. And I swear I’ll explain it, but . . .”

He cut her off. “Did that guy want to die? Is that what kind of agency you work for? A Kevorkian thing?”

So, he hadn’t seen the whole thing. Silas had obviously shown up sometime after Artemis died. She shook her head. “That isn’t it. I don’t do assisted suicides.” Tessa tried to keep her tone calm and soft. It must have been a huge shock for Silas to see Tessa standing there next to a newly dead person.

Still, why was he there? Obviously, he’d followed her.

Again.

A siren sounded. Too close.

Tessa twisted in the seat to pin Silas with her best schoolteacher look. “Silas. We need to get out of here.” She emphasized each word. “I will explain everything when we’re safe. But right now, I need your help.”

The very last thing she wanted to do was try to come up with an explanation for why the two of them were at Artemis Green’s house when he died.

For ten excruciating seconds, Silas stared at her. She watched his jaw work, probably mimicking the gears in his mind as he thought over the situation. Then he barked, “Pop the hood,” and jumped out.

Thank goodness. She did what he asked and then turned to watch the road, ready to burst out of her skin with nerves as the sirens got louder. “Okay, calm down, Tessa. It’s totally fine. No one saw you in the house except the horses. All you have to do is say your car stalled on the road, and you turned in here.”

Having the alibi ready calmed her some, and her heart slowed. She could hear Silas doing something under the hood and feel the car moving as he leaned against the front fender.

Without warning, the hood slammed. Silas jumped back in the passenger side. “She’ll start now. Let’s go.”

“What about your truck?” She twisted the key and puffed out a breath when the engine came to life, even though it was more of a whimper than a roar. It didn’t matter. Linda was running. She put it in reverse and stepped on the gas.

“It’s down the road a bit.” He gestured the right direction, and Tessa went that way. An ambulance, then three police cars passed them, squealing into Artemis’s driveway.

Tessa had the ridiculous thought that they would have to hop out and open the other side of the gate for the ambulance to fit through.

Silas said, “If you don’t explain to me what I just saw, my brain is going to explode.”

Tessa pulled onto the shoulder behind Silas’s truck. “Let’s get back to my apartment, okay?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “If it’s not assisted suicide then, what?” He barked out a thin laugh tinged with hysteria and brushed floppy hair out of his eyes. “I know. You’re the grim reaper.”

When she didn’t laugh at his attempt at a joke, his face stilled, eyes widening a fraction. He whispered, “Are you the grim reaper?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m a grim reaper.”

Chapter 5

SILAS STARED AT TESSA, his throat working as though a bunch of words were fighting each other to be the first one out of his mouth. None of them won. He remained silent.

Tessa's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket, and her brow furrowed as she scrolled down the list of pop-ups on the screen.

"My phone's been blowing up," she muttered.

During all the running and screaming and siren wailing, she hadn't heard or felt it buzzing. She had a bunch of missed calls and texts from the office telling her to get there for a meeting immediately. The last one from Gloria, said, "SOS. Get here now."

"What on earth? Silas, I don't know what's going on, but there's some kind of emergency at the office."

Silas didn't reach for the door handle. "What did you just say?"

She held up the phone. “Work is being weird. Well, weirder.” Usually, it was a laid-back office just as long as the reaps got done.

Silas shook his head. "Not that. Before. I mean, I know what you said. You said you're a grim reaper. But I was just kidding when I suggested that. I mean kind of. I did think something supernatural was afoot.” Another head shake that sent his hair to flapping over troubled eyes. “But how is it possible to be that? If you don’t work for an assisted suicide organization, then what is it? Some kind of government thing? Are you an agent of some sort?"

"Sort of. I swear I'll explain all of this to you. Tonight. Right now, I have to get to work."

“Right. Your work. Grim reaping or whatever.” Finally, some color flooded into Silas’s too-pale face. With it, anger floated across his features. He reached for the door handle.

“It’s complicated,” Tessa said.

"I’m sure.”

Tessa’s phone buzzed again. She winced.

“I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not sure I can be associated with it.” He stabbed a finger toward Tessa’s phone. “You do what you have to do. Maybe I'll be around tonight to hear your explanation—and maybe I won't."

He jumped out of Linda before Tessa could say anything else, slamming the door behind him. He stalked to his pickup truck, got in, and pulled away.

Part of Tessa wanted to wheel the car around and follow him back to Mist River Manor. She could explain everything right that moment and smooth things over before he could stew over it all afternoon, getting angrier and more frightened. Because she was sure part of his reaction was fear.

If she put herself in his shoes, she would be scared. She imagined herself following her boyfriend to a mansion, only to find him standing in a room with a man whose lifeless body lay in a bowl of cereal. She shuddered. Terror would probably be right at the top of the list of emotions she’d be having. Especially if the boyfriend’s explanation for the whole thing was that he was a grim reaper.

Tessa's phone buzzed again. Whatever this was, it truly must be an emergency. She groaned before pulling the car onto the street and heading away from Silas and toward the façade that was the Cooper’s Life Insurance building.

Her mind wasn’t really on the driving. It lurched back and forth between the situation with Silas and Artemis Green’s contention that someone had poisoned him. Before she knew it, and without having worked through either of the problems her mind had been chewing on, Tessa arrived at work.

She sprinted across the broken sidewalk and through the front door and then stopped short—short of crashing into another reaper, Jake. The lobby was full of people. Gloria and Cheryl were there, as were the other two reapers who worked at their agency and the secretary.

There was a thermos of coffee and an open box of donuts on the counter above the secretary’s desk. But there were no regular donuts left, only some sort of cream filled and a bear claw. Neither of which Tessa fancied. Good thing she’d had cereal. But the thought of cereal took her mind back to Mr. Green.

Six necks swiveled and twelve eyes focused on Tessa, who felt like their gazes physically pinned her to the closed door behind her. “Um. Hi!” She followed up her overly perky greeting with a toddler-like wave. “Sorry I’m late.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Where were you? Your assignment was over ages ago.”

“I was . . . well, my car wouldn’t start.” It wasn’t anyone’s business that she’d been caught in a reap by her almost-boyfriend and then had to escape the situation, dragging him along, before the cops and ambulance showed up.

Okay, maybe it was her mom-boss’s business. But she could read about it later in Tessa’s report. That was another thing she’d never have expected going into this job—that grim reaping came with paperwork.

The way Cheryl’s lips thinned let Tessa know her mother was onto her lie. But she didn’t push it. “If everyone’s ready, let’s move into the conference room. I’ve called this meeting to announce a few changes.”

Relieved that her mom’s gaze shifted to scoot everyone in the lobby to the adjacent meeting room, Tessa took the opportunity to stand next to her friend, Gloria, who bumped her elbow and grinned as they passed the threshold to the next room.

Cheryl continued, even before they were all in their seats, “I received word yesterday that our district manager, April, is leaving her position to take over the western district manager position. She’ll be moving from Chicago to LA within the week.”

Interesting. That didn’t seem like a promotion to Tessa but more of a lateral move. Maybe April fancied getting out of Chicago.

“As such, April’s position was vacant, and I have been promoted to fill it.” The centimeter that the corners of her lips twitched upward was Cheryl’s only outward indication of pride at the turn of events.

Around Tessa, people broke into applause, and she hurried to join in. “Will you be moving to Chicago?” she blurted out.

Cheryl’s smile widened. “Are you hoping for the answer to be yes or no?” But, immediately following the question, she waved a hand. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I think I’ll be staying here in Mist River, for the most part. More traveling will be required of me than before, but for now, this will be my home office.”

A chorus of congratulations and muttered well-wishes rang through the conference room. When it died down, Cheryl said, “Of course, this unexpected promotion meant my previous position was empty. But not for long. I’m happy to announce that, this morning, I requested that Gloria fill the job, and she accepted.”

There was more applause. Stunned, Tessa turned to her friend who beamed. “Thanks, everyone,” she said, raising her hands in the air and giving herself a couple little claps too. Then she dropped her arms. “Now. Party’s over. Everybody get back to work. No slacking!” She delivered the directive in a teasing tone.

The other reapers stopped by to shake Gloria’s hand at the door before heading out.

Now, Tessa realized that the conference room had been retrofitted. All of Cheryl’s things were here, even the framed Glamour Shot of her from middle school with an abundance of pink blush and heavy blue eye shadow. Had everyone seen that?

Soon, Tessa was alone with Gloria in the lobby. “So.” She crossed her arms. “Since you’re my boss now, does that mean we can’t have movie and ice cream marathons at my place anymore? Or makeup tutorials at yours?” Tessa tried to keep her tone light and teasing, but she was actually concerned.

Everybody knew that when one friend was promoted over another, it usually caused a chasm to open between the two. The dynamics of the relationship changed, and the friendship as it was before died.

But Gloria shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. We’re buds, and this isn’t going to have an impact on that.” She smiled, her perfectly applied ruby lipstick glistening as it caught the overhead light. “I’m planning to approach this job a little differently than your mom did. I see myself as more of a mentor than a boss.”

“Oh! That’s great. Because I’m in dire need of some mentoring right now.” Tessa wrinkled her nose. “I need help. Badly.”

“Business or personal?” Gloria asked.

Tessa thought for a second. “A little of both,” she decided.

Gloria tipped her head back. “Ah. Landlord trouble, right? Come on into my office, and we’ll hash it out.”

She’d already moved all her things into Cheryl’s old office. The only things that remained the same were the desk and the chair. Gloria wasn’t quite as neat as Cheryl. She seemed to have picked up everything off her old desk and put it on this one without any thought of giving it a new place. She had a few plants, one in the window and two in odd positions on the bookshelf.

Once they were safely inside with the door shut, Tessa’s new boss said, “Hit me with it,” and made a come on motion with her hand.

“So, Silas followed me to my assignment this morning. I’m not sure what he saw—not all of it. But enough to understand the guy was alive when I arrived and dead when I left.”

Gloria let out a low whistle and plopped into her office chair. “That guy is persistent.”

“Yeah. And he’s good at tailing people. He’s done it to me twice now, and I didn’t realize it either time. You know, we should really get better training when we become reapers, shouldn’t we? Like some kind of law enforcement drills or something.” Tessa crossed the room to look at some framed pictures on a bookshelf. Gloria with people who were probably her parents in front of the Cinderella castle at Disney World, Gloria in a cap and gown, and Gloria hugging another woman around the waist, all smiles. She pointed at the last one. “Who’s that?”

“We don’t have money for more training,” Gloria said without answering the question. “And, besides, people don’t usually follow us around. Your guy is only doing that because he’s specifically interested in you and what you’re doing.”

Tessa huffed and paced around the perimeter of the office. It felt odd to her—familiar but not. “Okay, so what do I do? I get the feeling he isn’t going to let this drop. He’d just going to keep following me around, trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“He knows you’re not telling him the whole truth,” Gloria agreed. “He can feel it. And it’s not fair to him to try and develop a romantic relationship with him that’s based on trust when you aren’t really being trustworthy.”

Tessa glared at her friend. “I’m trustworthy!”

“You’re lying to him. Every day. That’s untrustworthy if I ever saw it.” She tapped her fingertips on the desk calendar in front of her. “Come clean.”

“I am. I will. I wasn’t trying to be untrustworthy,” Tessa argued. “I was trying to keep us a secret. Isn’t that what I was supposed to do?”

Gloria shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Eh.”

“Eh? Eh? What do you mean eh?”

“I mean, we aren’t superheroes or something. What’s the worst that could happen if folks know we exist?”

Tessa’s scowl deepened. “I don’t know. Imprisonment? Lab experiments? I mean, I assume people might decide we’re killers. Like no one would die if we weren’t around to reap them or something.”

Gloria rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a movie. Nobody cares. Besides, I’m not suggesting we out ourselves to the whole world. I’m saying you should tell your boyfriend. There’s a big difference.”

“But what if he tells other people?”

“Ask him not to. Trust is a two-way street.” She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the desk. “Girl, he’s into you. You’re into him. If you’re honest and lay it out for him, then ask him to keep it to himself. He will. Silas cares about you.”

Tessa pursed her lips, considering. It did sound like the best course of action.

Gloria winked. “Go talk to your boyfriend. It’ll be okay.”

And, just like that, Tessa found that she was out of arguments. Gloria was right. “Fine,” she said. “You’re my boss now, so I guess I have to do what you say.” She headed to the door but stopped short and said over her shoulder, “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Gloria made a shooing motion. “Go on. Get it done so you can focus on your job. I don’t need any reapers who aren’t fully focused on their work around here.” She softened the bossy words with a grin.

Tessa smiled back and left, her steps feeling lighter than when she’d arrived.

Her friend and newly appointed boss was right. Silas did seem to care about her. And it wasn’t fair to him to withhold basic information about herself.

She’d already told him she was a reaper. Now, she could explain what that meant. He’d have to understand why she had to lie before. Then, they could move on, and she could be herself with him.

That sounded amazing.

Tessa drove a little faster than she should have to the apartment building, marveling over how smoothly Linda was running now. That Silas sure was magical when it came to mechanics.

The excitement she felt over coming clean about her job warred with a little bit of nervousness as she pulled into the lot and parked. Tessa reminded herself of what Gloria had said—that everything would be fine.

But before she got out of the car, her attention was captured by people coming out of the lobby of Mist River Manor.

And she knew it wasn’t true. Things weren’t going to be fine at all.

Because Silas was in handcuffs, each elbow held by a cop as they propelled him toward a waiting police cruiser.

Chapter 6

TESSA STOOD IN THE parking lot wondering what to do. Should she follow the officers and Silas to the police station? After all, this was all her fault. Okay, maybe not all her fault. Silas had made the choice to follow her. But he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. And she could’ve done a better job explaining away her job.

Or she could’ve told him the truth from the beginning. It seemed like such a simple solution now.

It only took a moment’s thought to give up on the idea of following him to the station—she knew they'd spend at least an hour booking and probably questioning him. It was possible they’d let him go home after that but, if not, they’d put him in a cell to await a court date. And that wouldn’t likely occur for a day or two. Then Silas would go in front of a judge, who would decide whether he had to stay in jail or could be let out on bond.

This wasn’t like visiting a patient in a hospital. Even then, she wasn’t his family. She wasn’t even really his girlfriend. Silas was incommunicado with only one phone call. And she doubted he’d waste it on her. There was very little to nothing Tessa was able to do besides get in everybody's way and annoy them.

So, shoulders slumped, she trudged through the apartment building. She was already dreaming about drowning her sorrows in a half-gallon of ice cream and hoping the streaming service she shared with her friend Abi in a different apartment wasn't overloaded and would work for her. She was dreaming of a comedy—something to keep her mind off Silas’s predicament.

Before she got to her apartment, another door opened. Mrs. Cross swayed in the doorway, without her cane. She wore a floor length housecoat and a cream-colored bandana wrapped around her hair. “Come in here, girl," she croaked, reaching out to grab Tessa's elbow and then swaying even harder.

Tessa automatically stiffened her arm to stabilize the woman.

Taken aback, she wondered if Mrs. Cross had been watching for Tessa through the peephole.

Oh, yeah, that’s not creepy or anything.

“What can I do for you?” Tessa kept her tone light, even though she was irritated about the probable spying.

"I want to talk to you." Mrs. Cross peered through thick glasses at Tessa. Her tone, as always, was gruff. Like the schoolteacher no one ever messed with, even though she was small and fragile enough to simply push over. No one would ever dare do that. She was the type who inspired fear and respect, even though she didn’t have the physical oomph to back it up.

“Okay," Tessa stammered. She cast one last longing look toward her own apartment before crossing the threshold into Mrs. Cross’s.

The lady’s apartment looked like one would expect the dwelling space of a single woman in their eighties to look. It was decorated in country style, with blue and white flowered fabric for curtains and a matching pattern on the upholstery. Knick-knacks covered every available surface, and dirty teacups and plates sat precariously on top of other items, threatening to pitch off to their metaphorical deaths at any moment.

But even more than the clutter and countrified décor, the thing that stood out about the home was its strong odor. Tessa’s nose twitched, and she longed to rub it but had a pretty good idea that Mrs. Cross would notice and call her out on it. Then what would she say? Somehow, “I’m sorry, but this place reeks,” didn’t seem advisable.

And the scent wasn’t bad, per se. It smelled like orange and cinnamon and reminded Tessa of the mall during Christmastime. Except it was stronger. Much, much stronger. In addition to the twitchy nose, Tessa began to suffer a low-grade burning in her eyes, which watered in response.

Great. I need to figure out how to make this quick.

Mrs. Cross lowered herself onto a tattered brown armchair with a crooked footrest that indicated it didn't go up and down anymore.

Tessa glanced around. The only places left for her to sit were either on a blue-flowered loveseat or a sofa, both of which were covered with heavy plastic protector sheets.

She hesitated, then chose the sofa. When she sat, it creaked and croaked under her weight. Gingerly, she chose a position that wasn’t quite comfortable and then froze, hoping to keep the plastic quiet. It reminded her of visiting her grandmother’s house as a child. She’d never felt relaxed there either.

Too late, Tessa realized her mistake. A simmering pot of liquid potpourri sat bubbling away on an end table inches away from her right elbow, emitting the nearly overpowering Christmas odor. Tessa’s eyes redoubled their effort to protect her from the horrendous scent by watering harder.

"Make yourself comfortable, girl," Mrs. Cross rumbled. "You look like a giraffe trying to sit on its rear end like a dog."

Tessa’s mind helpfully produced a mental image of that colorful description for her, and she laughed. "No, no. I'm not uncomfortable at all. This is just like home. Thanks for inviting me in—um, why did you invite me in, again?"

"I wanted to tell you about our landlord!”

“You did? You do?” Tessa’s already troubled eyes twitched slightly.

“I was listening to the police scanner earlier, and I heard the whole thing. I wouldn’t’ve believed it if I hadn't heard it with my own ears.” She wrinkled her nose, giving Tessa a moment’s hope that she was bothered by the strong odor too and would authorize the bubbler’s unplugging. But she just went on, “Actually, I didn't hear with my own ears. I had to turn my hearing aids way up to catch it. But, even using those cheaters, I know what they said."

Tessa leaned forward so her elbows were resting on her knees. "Really? What did you hear?"

"For one, I heard that my old boss Artemis Green died this morning." She shook her head, and a pink foam curler popped out from under the woman's beige-colored bandanna.

"I'm sorry to hear you lost an, um, employer.”

“Oh, I’d say he was much more than that. I’d say we were friends—as good as one can be with their boss.”

That stung a little. Tessa wanted to believe the dynamic between she and Gloria would stay the same. Granted, she didn’t know what type of work Mrs. Cross did. She doubted it was reaping souls.

“Well, I’m sorry you lost a friend. What happened to him?" Not only did Tessa think it was a good idea to play along with the conversation to keep Mrs. Cross happy, but she was also hoping to figure out what everyone thought Mr. Green might've died from.

"Yes, yes. He and I go way back.” Mrs. Cross disregarded the question, choosing instead to languish in her memories. She sat back in her chair, her voice smoothing out from her usual cackle as she reminisced. “I used to work at his house, you know. I did the cleaning there, and then I was in the kitchen for a while. But I’m horrible in the kitchen, and, out of self-defense for his taste buds, Artemis quickly moved me out to work with horses.”

“They’re gorgeous,” Tessa said offhand, remembering those she’d seen while hiding in the grounds at Artemis’s house. She realized her mistake. “I mean horses in general. I, uh, I love them.”

Mrs. Cross squinted but seemed to believe the quick correction. “Yes. They’re very fine creatures. And Artemis only brought the best specimens into his barn. He never rode himself, but he liked to have them around for his kids and grandkids and their friends. Most of the time, the horses lived like kings, getting the finest food and veterinary care.

“Two wipe-downs every day in the very best brushes. Every once in a while, one of them would get saddled up and ridden for half an hour or so, but the rest of the time, their lives were their own. Anyway, I got to know Artemis pretty well during all that time.”

“You did?”

“While he wasn’t a rider, you could usually find him somewhere near the barn. He loved the outdoors. Plus, I think he just liked to get out of the house, and away from Mrs. Green.”

“Oh?” Tessa leaned in closer. She tried to put her question delicately. “Was she not very nice?”

“It wasn’t like that, dear. She was often sick and bedridden. Some sort of autoimmune disease. Spent her time indoors with her calligraphy. I think it pained Artemis to see her that way.”

“Oh.” Tessa rubbed at her reddening eyes.

“But like I was saying, he loved the outdoors. He and my husband used to play golf every once in a while—Artemis would invite Stanley and pay for everything. He was a very generous man."

"It certainly sounds like it. How long did you work there?"

She pondered the question as though trying to read the answer on an imaginary sheet of paper. “Well. This was years ago. But let’s see. I was in the kitchen for about six months before Sky took over my position and I went to the barn. And I was in the barn for about fifteen years, I think.”

“Sky?”

“A flower child, they used to call them. She was a much better chef than I was but kind of a brat. I’ve always been surprised Artemis didn’t kick her out on her behind. But he never did. I believe her daughter Lark works there now, actually. In the same position, not in the barn.” She re-focused and nodded curtly. “It was nice out there. Got to be alone most of the time. The only people I reported to were Artemis and then Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel?”

“Artemis’s son-in-law. Real piece of work, he is. Never did a lick of work in his life—only real decision he ever made was to marry into the Green family wealth—but likes to act like the king of the castle. He’d come into the barn and stir up a bunch of dust about one thing or another and then leave again.”

“What did you do about that?” These all seemed like more likely culprits than Silas. Tessa wished the police had stopped to interview Mrs. Cross.

“I learned to bite my tongue when he arrived and ignore everything he’d said once he was gone again.” She snorted. “Sometimes you have to do that in your professional life, you know. Let the boss think he’s in charge but do things the right way when he isn’t looking. Makes everyone happy.”

Tessa wanted to argue. To tell Mrs. Cross it was stupid to do that. That you should be able to tell your boss you had a better way of doing something and accept the credit when it went well. But she swallowed the words. Mrs. Cross was past her working days, and it wasn’t going to do any good to argue with the elderly woman now.

Mrs. Cross clucked her tongue. "Well, anyway, Nathaniel will probably take over the place now. Likely, he’ll run it into disrepair. That is if his wife, Hannah, lets him. Because Artemis is gone now, and old Mrs. Green is in no shape to do much of anything.”

“That’s terrible.” Tessa wanted to console Mrs. Cross. But even more, she wanted to make a getaway. The smell was that bad.

“According to the scanner, he died in his breakfast cereal,” Mrs. Cross continued. “When the police got there, they didn't have any reason to think there was any foul play involved. It looked like he just had a heart attack and keeled over while he was eating breakfast. But, of course, they fanned out and looked around the place anyway. That's when one of the officers found a bottle of Grime Slayer. You know the stuff, girl?”

Tessa nodded. She watched enough late-night TV that the jingle for the heavy-duty cleaner with the tagline “It’s murder on muck,” got stuck in her head weekly. She started singing it, and Mrs. Cross joined in.

When they were done, the elderly woman chuckled. “Anyway, it’s no surprise they’d have cleaner around—Artemis insisted on a spotless home. But the stuff was in the kitchen, right on the counter next to the spot where someone would've made Artemis’s breakfast. That's when the cops got a little suspicious, and one of them asked the staff to see the security footage of the house."

Tessa almost smacked her forehead with a palm but remembered at the last minute that she shouldn't act like she knew anything about the situation. So, she smacked her forehead internally.

Of course. The security cameras.

She'd known where to look for them and how to get around them at an angle where she wouldn’t be caught on film, but Silas wouldn’t have been thinking about any of that. He probably just barged straight through their field of view. "But why would Silas be at Mr. Green's house?"

Mrs. Cross scoffed. “How should I know? I thought he was a very fine boy. I even gave him some money from my lottery winnings." She shook her head again, more violently this time, and two more rollers escaped from their bandana fabric captor. "I can't believe I was so wrong about him. I'm usually a fine judge of character. But he was at Mr. Green's house, skulking around. So, the cops got a search warrant.”

Tessa nodded along, thinking it couldn’t get any worse. There was no way there’d be anything linking Silas to Artemis Green’s death here at the apartment complex.

“They came here to Mist River Manor and searched Silas’s apartment and his pickup truck." Her sharp eyes met Tessa's, and Mrs. Cross scowled. "They found an open bottle of Grime Slayer right in that boy’s truck cab. I just can't believe he wasn't smart enough to hide it better."

"Hide it? You mean, you think Silas actually had something to do with this man's death?"

"Well, of course I do. And I'm no slouch in the mystery solving department, girl. I watch all the BBC mysteries of them all the time, plus I get my Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes from the library. This is an open and shut case if I ever heard one."

"I'm not sure . . ."

But Mrs. Cross interrupted Tessa. "Now, girl, I know you had the hots for our landlord, but you're just going to have to give up on that idea.”

The hots? Tessa had to hold in a laugh at the words that seemed so mismatched to the woman in front of her.

Mrs. Cross continued, “The boy’s a murderer. We'll have to get a new landlord in here and you're just going to have to find a new love interest." She scooched to the end of her chair, grabbed a cane leaning on the coffee table in front of her, and struggled to her feet.

Tessa jumped up, setting the plastic to crackling, and offered a hand to the elderly lady. But Mrs. Cross slapped it away. "I think I can get around in my own home. Now, I guess I'll be having my nap now. I just wanted to make sure you understood what that man of yours is all about. Tread carefully, now. Don't get pulled into trouble yourself."

She headed toward the back of the apartment, not bothering to walk Tessa to the door, and disappeared into the hallway without another word.

Tessa hurried out of the apartment, closing the door firmly behind her, and drew in a deep breath, as though Mrs. Cross’s assessment of Mr. Green’s death was bad air that she could clear out by inhaling fresh oxygen.

It didn’t work. But her nose and eyes did appreciate the gift of potpourri-free air.

Tessa wiped her eyes on a sleeve and then trudged toward her apartment again.

Mrs. Cross might think it was an open and shut case against Silas, but she was wrong. It was anything but that. Still, it was highly unlikely that the investigators, a jury, or a judge would see it Tessa’s way. Not without more information, anyway. They would see Silas on the security camera footage and the cleaner in his truck that matched the one found in Artemis's kitchen.

They’d consider it open and shut too.

A war of emotions was taking place inside Tessa's chest. She felt guilty. If it wasn’t for her, Silas wouldn’t be in this mess.

But she also felt angry. Couldn’t he just have trusted her? She'd never done anything to warrant him not believing what she said and following her around the way he had—twice!

Now he’d gone and gotten himself in a whole heap of trouble, and it was going to be up to Tessa to try and get him out.

Only she had no idea how to do that. Frustration rolled over and through her like a giant tidal wave.

Then it hit her, and she groaned. The only way to get Silas out of the mess was to figure out who had killed Artemis Green. Because not only did the cops think there was foul play involved, but the man himself had too.

“I see your groan and raise you a deep sigh.” Abi leaned against Tessa’s apartment door. She grinned and held up both hands to show Tessa what she held. “I figured that was how you’d be feeling after Mrs. Cross yanked you into her horribly stinky apartment. She did the same to me—to tell me what happened to Silas. So, I brought wine and ice cream to help you feel better.”

Tessa thought about sending her friend home. But there was nothing she could do to help Silas right then. So, she forced a smile and reached around Abi to unlock the door. “That sounds perfect. Come on in.”

Chapter 7

"TESSA RANDOLPH, GET your booty in my office immediately!"

For a second, Tessa thought she had transported back to when her mother was in charge. But it wasn't Cheryl yelling for her presence—it was Gloria, who'd stuck her head out to bark the order and then pulled it back into her office.

In trouble, yet again. New boss. Same problems.

Tessa shuffled in and shut the door behind her when Gloria jabbed a finger at it. Whatever Gloria wanted, Tessa hoped it didn’t take long. As soon as she’d woken up that morning, she'd been anxious to start her new side gig—figuring out who had killed Artemis Green. Only then could she get Silas out of trouble.

Her reaper app hadn't shown any appointments, but a text shimmered on her screen, ordering her to head to the Cooper's Life Insurance building. She’d barely crossed the threshold when Gloria yelled for her.

Now, Gloria’s mouth was a firm line as she tilted her head and examined Tessa.

“What’s up?” Tessa ventured.

"You didn't tell me the reap Silas followed you on was for the Artemis Green." Gloria's eyes, lids covered with a gorgeous shade of fuchsia eyeshadow, were wide as they pinned Tessa with a hard look. "That was a pretty important bit of information to leave out."

Tessa shrugged. "Was it? Sorry. I didn’t know who the Artemis Green was until yesterday. Actually, I still really don't get why he’s such a big deal."

Gloria gave her head a little shake, setting her braids to bouncing. "I thought everybody in Mist River knew Mr. Green. I don't know how you grew up here and didn't know about him." She lowered herself into an office chair and stared at Tessa, her expression bordering on reproachful.

"I don't know. I just never had a lot of contact with rich old guys." Tessa sat on the edge of Gloria's desk. "And it’s not like he's the only rich old guy who lives over in that area of town. So, why is this particular dude so important?"

"Well, for one, he's a self-made multimillionaire. As in, he started with nothing and built himself up. Which is unlike most of the other rich folk in this town. How they keep living on old money, I’ll never understand. And second, because I said multimillionaire. And I don't just mean a few millions—I mean hundreds of millions."

"Wow. That's pretty interesting. How’d he make that kind of money from nothing?"

Gloria wrinkled her nose. "I don't know. Something boring like the stock market or banking or real estate or perhaps all three.” She waved a hand, dismissing the importance of that particular bit of information. “But, like I said, he's a big deal, and his lawyers aren’t going to spare any expense trying to get Silas convicted of his murder."

Tessa winced and stretched her neck, first to one side and then the other. "Okay, I've been thinking about this. The only way to get Silas out of this is to figure out who really did poison Mr. Green. Can't we just look at his file and find out who killed him?"

But Gloria was shaking her head before the full question was out of Tessa's mouth. "Nope, it doesn't work that way. Our job is to escort souls to the other side of the veil, not to worry about how or why they died. It's just not the sort of thing that's included in our record keeping." She pushed off the armrests, getting to her feet. "Come on. I'm going to be mentoring you through your reaps today."

Gloria headed for the door. Tessa admired the floor-length maxi dress her friend wore, which was the same shade of fuchsia as her eyeshadow.

"I've been reaping for months. Why do I need mentoring now?" Tessa hopped off the desk and followed Gloria into the lobby.

Gloria cast a smirk over her shoulder. "Because you're a slow learner."

Tessa's jaw dropped and she stopped walking for a second and then had to hurry to catch back up. "I am not! There's just been a lot of weird stuff going on since I came on, that's all. I mean, it isn't like everything's been routine or easy with the reaps."

"Actually, it’s my opinion that everything has been routine and boring, but you've been inserting some drama." Gloria made a beeline for her car, and Tessa followed without arguing.

Gloria's ride was much more reliable than Linda.

"I'm not dramatic."

Gloria's cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's. And then she burst into high-pitched laughter. "Really? You're going to take that route? Honey, you bring more drama with you than Hollywood celebrities bring to the red carpet. It's one thing after another with you.

“First, you lose a soul, then you exchange one soul for another, then you’re involved in a bunch of improper reaps at the convention.” She pointed a finger at Tessa’s nose. “I'm telling you, you're the one bringing the madness."

Tessa got in the car and put on her seatbelt. Then she crossed her arms and huffed. "Okay, I lost the soul. That much was my fault. But all the stuff that happened in Miami—that had nothing to do with me. I was just along for the ride. In fact, I'm the one who got it all figured out and cleared up. You should be thanking me instead of . . ." Tessa waved a hand in the air aimlessly. "Whatever this is."

Gloria put the car in reverse and eased out of the spot. "Relax. All I'm going to do is show you a couple of tricks of the trade. It's not any kind of statement about what kind of job you’re doing. It has more to do with me taking over and making things . . . you know, the way I want them."

Now, that actually didn't sound bad. Cheryl's management style, while standoffish, was fairly intense. She liked things to be just so and didn’t hesitate to micromanage to get them that way.

Maybe Gloria would be a little more lenient. And, if nothing else, she'd been reaping for a lot longer than Tessa and would have some tricks up her sleeve. Tessa was interested in learning all the tricks possible. Even after the flubs and dangerous situations Tessa had been put into since she became a reaper, she really did love the job. She wanted not only to keep at it but also to do a great job. She just had to figure out how to get Silas out of trouble first.

Gloria glanced at her. "You're pouting again. It's about your boyfriend, isn't it?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Tessa replied automatically, following up with, "I'm serious—he really isn't my boyfriend. We had an argument the night before Artemis Green’s reap. And Silas was really upset after he followed me and saw what happened. He didn't understand. He thought our agency was some sort of assisted suicide thing. I never had a chance to explain it before he was arrested."

"Okay, well, that's not good. But don't worry. You'll get it straightened out and hottie landlord will be your boyfriend again." The grin on Gloria's face could only be described as impish.

"That reminds me. You're always trying to get involved in my love life—giving me advice and all that on what to do with Silas. I don't ever get to hear about your love life. In Miami, you said you do have one. So, what gives? Who are you dating?"

Gloria kept her eyes on the road. "I date lots of people," she said cryptically. "But I've been seeing someone a little bit more seriously the last couple of weeks.” She paused.

Tessa could see her friend chewing the inside of her lip, like she was nervous. What did she have to be nervous about? “Okay, spill it. Tell me about this mysterious person.”

“There’s not much to tell.” She checked the side mirror, even though there was no reason to because she wasn’t changing lanes. Then she spoke in a fast rush of words. “Her name’s Ella. If you’re nice to me, maybe I'll let you meet her."

Her. That was something Tessa hadn’t known about Gloria. But it clicked into place in her mind fast, filling in a piece of knowledge that had been missing. "That sounds great. I can't wait to meet her." Tessa smiled. “Ooh, does she like Thai food? I’ve been dying to see if that new place downtown is any good.”

Gloria finally glanced at Tessa. "Thanks," she said softly.

"For what?"

"For not being weird about it."

Tessa scowled. "Why would I be weird about it? I don't care who you date. I just want you to be happy. And to stay out of my love life." She jabbed Gloria’s arm lightly with her elbow.

Gloria snorted. "Never gonna happen."

She twisted the wheel, pulling the car into Mist River Hospital’s parking lot. “You need all the help you can get with that love life of yours. Just consider me your personal relationship guru. You should be paying me a salary.”

Gloria threw the car in park and hopped out before Tessa could get a word in edgewise.

“Great,” she muttered, following more slowly.

At first, Tessa thought she’d missed Gloria somehow. She was nowhere to be seen between the front of the car and the hospital. Then she heard the sound of the car trunk popping open.

Gloria began digging in the trunk, so Tessa joined her there. A lot like her desk, it was a mess. Her trunk was like a middle schooler’s locker at the end of the year.

“Why are we here?” She jabbed a thumb toward the squat gray hospital building. Mist River was such a small town it was a wonder they had one, but it served the whole western part of the county. Recently, a big out-of-state company bought it, which was a huge scandal, but they’d upgraded the facilities and raised all the workers’ compensation, so that shut everyone up quickly.

“There’s a reap for you in there,” Gloria said, tossing bags and papers to the edges of the trunk until she said, “Aha,” and pulled a small green duffel back to the top of the pile. She unzipped and rifled through it for a minute before pulling out a pair of light blue scrubs. “Put these on.”

Tessa scowled again, but Gloria made a face that said she shouldn’t argue. Tessa pulled the shirt over her own fitted T-shirt.

“Good thing I’m wearing leggings,” she muttered as she stepped into the scrub pants. If she’d worn jeans, she would have had to make herself into a pretzel to change in the back seat.

But Gloria wasn’t paying attention—she was still digging in the duffel bag. “Where is it? I know it was here last time!”

“Maybe you should clean out your trunk,” Tessa suggested.

Gloria shot her a glare. “I can’t. This is everything I may need to blend in anywhere. Your trunk should look just like this.”

Tessa frowned.

“Okay. Maybe not just like this. But this stuff is important.”

It made sense. Having scrubs or overalls or a wig or whatever would definitely make it easier to look inconspicuous on a reap. Tessa made a note to visit the local thrift shops and see what she could stock up on.

“Bingo!” Gloria held up a card attached to a brown lanyard, which she handed to Tessa with a triumphant smile. “Here you go.”

Tessa accepted the item and turned the card over to examine it. “There’s nothing on this. What is it?”

Gloria pointed at the card. “That is your ticket into any place you’ll need to go to reap.” She re-zipped the duffel bag and closed the trunk, then leaned on the bumper. “It’s a universal badge that has some Grim Reaper magic in it. Becomes whatever you need it to be.”

Tessa turned it over again, but it still just looked like a plain laminated white card to her. “What am I missing?”

“Walk toward the hospital. Watch the card.”

With a shrug, Tessa put the lanyard around her neck and then did as Gloria directed. When she was within about twenty feet of the hospital, Gloria called, “Check the badge.”

Tessa pulled the card up to examine it and pulled in a breath when she saw it now showed a picture of her, in scrubs, and proclaimed her to be Nurse Lottie Swan.

“Wow,” she breathed, heading back toward Gloria. In front of her eyes, the picture on the badge became fuzzy and then vanished completely as she walked away from the hospital. “So, this is, like, an all-access pass, huh?”

“Within reason,” Gloria said. She held up her cell phone and wagged it in the air. “I just assigned you the reap of Mrs. Samantha Hughes, room 323 inside. But yes. That card will act as a badge or pass key or whatever you need. Cheryl didn’t think you were ready for it. I do.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Figures she’d think I wasn’t capable. She’s never given me credit for anything.”

Gloria gave her a nudge toward the building. “I’m your boss and your love life consultant, not your therapist. Get in there and escort Mrs. Hughes over, will you? We don’t have all day.”

Tessa stuck her tongue out at her friend but went toward the hospital.

The badge worked perfectly. No one gave her a second glance as she walked around the hospital like she belonged there, straight into Mrs. Hughes’ restricted visits room.

When she was finished, she found Gloria still leaning on the trunk of her car. “How’d it go?”

“Fine. What’s next?”

“Another reap. This one’s at the chemical plant. Don’t worry—one of us is prepared. I have a white jumper suit for you. You can give that thing another whirl.” She pointed at the card around Tessa’s neck. “You’ll need it to get past the guard at the front desk and then into the lab room where Don Stempin is.”

“Fine. Let’s go. How many of these do we have today, anyway? I want to work on the Artemis Green case.”

“A few.” They got into the car, and Gloria started it up. “What are you going to do, anyway? Where are you going to start the investigation?”

“I don’t know. But I was thinking maybe I could do something like I did with Chet Sanborn’s family. You know how I went over there and talked to them about the life insurance policy? I could go to Mr. Green’s house and say I’m there about his policy. Maybe I’ll be able to talk to some people, get some information.”

Gloria scoffed and shook her head. “No way. His family would never believe he’d taken out insurance from a run-down agency like Cooper’s.”

Disappointment shot through Tessa, but she knew her friend was right. “Okay, well, that was my only bright idea. Do you have any?”

Gloria winked. “We’re just going to have to get creative.”

Chapter 8

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY creative?" Tessa studied Gloria's profile as her friend drove.

"Let’s just say a promotion wasn't all I received this morning." The tiny smile on Gloria's lips reminded Tessa of a kid who'd spotted a present with her name on it.

"What do you mean? What else did you get?"

As though she'd been dying to say it for hours, Gloria burst out, "I was endowed with Lee Stuart’s reaper ability! This girl can turn invisible."

Tessa felt her eyes pop open. This was big news.

When the earth's population had gotten to the point where the original Grim Reaper was hopping busy, he’d decided he wanted to retire, take it easy, and lounge around on beaches to drink coconutty cocktails. So, he'd come up with the idea of reaper agencies and allowed small bits of his power to be used by others. Most reapers just got the actual reaping power—the ability to open a path across the veil and escort souls over. But some select few also received other secrets of the original reaper. Tessa had been gifted the ability to conjure an actual scythe, which she had used only once so far.

"I can't believe they gave you invisibility! That's amazing."

Gloria's head bobbed as though she were listening to music. Tessa had never seen her so excited. "Yep. I guess Mr. Blade noticed me helping you at the convention and arranged for Lee’s secret to pass to me.” She winked. “This has been one of the best days of my life. When I was a kid playing superhero, invisibility was always my choice. And now it’s real—not just me hiding under a blanket.”

She giggled like the little girl in the memory. “Of course, I’m not supposed to go around all willy-nilly, just becoming invisible for no reason. Luckily, you’ve provided me with the perfect excuse!”

“I have?” Tessa wrinkled her nose for a second. “Wait, this is what you meant by getting creative? You’re going to use it?”

Gloria turned onto the road leading to Artemis Green’s suburb. “We are. Let’s see if we can find anything out from the source.”

They parked about a quarter mile down the road and walked toward Mr. Green’s driveway. Tessa could feel Gloria’s excitement increase as they got closer. Her arms shook with anticipation, and a smile stayed etched on her face.

Before they got into view of the security gate at the end of the driveway, Gloria stopped short and grabbed Tessa’s arm. “Okay. I’m obviously a novice at this, but I think if we stay in contact, I can extend the invisibility to you.”

Tessa eyed her friend for a second. “You know, my mom never would do this. When you said you were going to be a different kind of boss from her, you weren’t kidding.”

Gloria shrugged, and her eyebrows danced upward. “If you want to forget about this, we can go back to the office, and I can write you up for carelessness on the job. You know, for letting Silas follow you on a reap. That would be more bosserly, right?”

“For one, that’s not a word.” Tessa rolled her eyes. “For two, I can do without the write-up. But are you sure you want to do this so soon after your promotion? I’m pretty sure it’s not something upper management would get behind. In fact, I’m positive Mom would let the police sort it out. She’d say it’s not our problem and that I should keep my head down and do my work.”

“You do have a little bit of Cheryl in you,” Gloria said. “I can see it now. And you’re probably right. I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a big risk.”

“But?”

“But the police seem pretty convinced they got their man already. I think if they’re going to do any sorting out, it’s only going to be to drum up more evidence to support their conclusion. They aren’t going to be looking for another suspect.”

“You’re right.” Tessa felt bad about bringing her friend into this. What if something happened—what if her mom did find out about this? Both she and Gloria would get fired. She couldn’t stand for that.

The trepidation showed on her face because Gloria said, “I guess we can leave your man to the whims of the local police department if you want. Even though you know for a fact they’re wrong.” She leveled her gaze on Tessa. “I’m good with risking getting my higher-ups a little irritated to do the right thing. But it’s your call.”

Tessa pursed her lips and didn’t even need to think about it. Everyone needed a friend like Gloria. Tessa held out her hand. “Let’s go.”

With a happy little hop, Gloria grabbed her hand. Tessa expected her to do something to activate the invisibility—wiggle her nose, maybe, or wave a hand. Maybe flap like a chicken. But she didn’t do anything. One second, Tessa was looking at Gloria, and the next, she was looking at the tree behind her, unimpeded by her friend’s image in front of it.

Tessa glanced down at her own body and gave a little squeak. She’d half-expected to still be able to see herself, but she couldn’t.

Disorientation sent her lurching forward when Gloria started to walk, tugging on her hand. Gloria stopped to let Tessa get her footing. “It helps to just keep looking ahead,” she whispered. “Don’t look down or over at me if you can help it. Your brain will object to the experience.”

Object to the experience. Yeah, that’s what her brain was doing all right. It made her vision blur and gave her nausea like a bad migraine.

Tessa took a deep breath, looked straight ahead, and started walking slowly.

This is better. I can work with this.

She ignored the remaining slight queasy feeling in her gut and kept moving forward beside Gloria.

They had to skirt around the gate at the end of the driveway which, thankfully, was meant to keep out cars and didn’t extend to a fully fenced-in property. They hurried down the driveway, hand in hand.

As the huge house came into view, Tessa could see there were three people, a man and two women, on the porch. A second later, she realized they were arguing.

The invisible reapers jogged forward until they were at the base of the steps, close enough to see and hear what was happening.

“Please don’t do this!” The speaker was a woman in her mid to late forties. She wore a white apron and tears streamed down her plump face. “I need this job. I love this job. Really, I don’t even know what else I could do.”

The man, who was bald on top but had a ring of dull-brown hair around the back of his skull and a poufy mustache, crossed his arms. “That really isn’t our concern, Lark.”

Lark. Was that a name Mrs. Cross had mentioned? No, she’d mentioned another, a woman named Sky who’d taken over as chef when Mrs. Cross moved to the work with the horses. The name was so unusual Tessa remembered it clearly. But she also mentioned that Sky’s daughter now worked in her place.

The crying woman had to be her.

Lark cried harder, making all kinds of snorting and huffing noises.

“Nathaniel.” The woman, who looked vaguely familiar to Tessa, though she couldn’t place her, stepped forward, putting a hand on the man’s arm. For a second, Tessa thought she would council the man to let up on Lark but, instead, she addressed the chef. “We’re going to call the police either way, but if you want to avoid trespassing charges on top of the other trouble coming your way, you should probably leave our property now.”

“But . . .” Lark’s eyes shifted between the pair pleadingly.

“What did my father say about ifs, ands, or buts?” The woman brushed something off her long, black skirt. She was tall and elegant, with the air of someone used to living comfortably.

“That they’re useless in negotiations,” Nathaniel said.

Tessa knew Nathaniel’s name too. He was Mr. Green’s son-in-law. Mrs. Cross hadn’t had good things to say about him either.

The two hovered over Lark like vultures.

Then the mansion’s front door swung open, and an elderly woman, bent and leaning heavily on a cane, hobbled out. The woman hurried over to give her his arm.

“What’s going on?” the older woman croaked, and then her gaze fell on the sobbing Lark. She looked confused, dazed even.

“Mother,” the woman at her arm straightened, “we talked about this. Remember? We know for a fact Lark, here, is a murderess. She killed Father.”

Lark wailed louder, turning her focus to the elderly woman. “Mrs. Green, I swear I didn’t kill your husband. I . . . I loved him. He was always kind to me. And Hannah, you remember when we used to play as girls? I used to come to your holiday parties . . .”

“I remember.” Hannah, whom Tessa had realized was Mr. Green’s daughter and Nathaniel’s wife, looked unsure for a moment. Then she leaned closer to Lark. “I remember it all too well. You were a liar then, and you’re just as bold of one now.”

“I’m not lying! I don’t know why that cleaner was in the kitchen. I made Mr. Green’s cereal and served it to him like always. Then I went up to tidy the bedroom.” She ended on a sob, putting her face in her hands. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Hannah studied the chef. For a second, it looked almost like she did believe her. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell the police about this until after Dad’s funeral.”

“No!” Nathaniel boomed. “She killed him. She needs to be put away.”

“But the police arrested someone else. And if we make it public knowledge that Dad was killed by a member of his own staff, won’t he look stupid?” Hannah glanced at Lark. “It isn’t like she’s going to be able to disappear into thin air or anything. We can talk to the police later. After the press loses interest.”

Nathaniel was shaking his head almost violently, but Mrs. Green tipped her head. “You may be right, dear. I have no desire to see your father’s poor judgement splashed across the newspapers, tarnishing his memory.”

“It wouldn’t tarnish his memory because I didn’t do it. I’ll take a lie detector. Whatever it takes.”

Hannah set her jaw. “You’re not welcome here. Get off our property and don’t you ever come back.”

Lark sobbed even harder, but she didn’t argue anymore. She stumbled across the porch and down the stairs.

Tessa and Gloria had to dance out of her way as she hurtled past them.

The three on the porch watched the chef get into a rusty Ford sedan and drive away.

“There,” Hannah said. “It’s done.”

Mrs. Green nodded solemnly. “I need to rest before the funeral director arrives. Will you help me upstairs?”

“Of course, Mom. Let’s get you to your chair.” Hannah helped the old woman back into the house.

Nathaniel stayed on the porch, staring up the driveway where Lark had disappeared. He frowned.

Gloria tugged on Tessa’s arm, and they headed away from the house too.

Tessa let her mind wander while Gloria led the way.

It made sense that the chef would have great access to Mr. Green’s food. But why would she poison him if she depended so much on the job? It seemed like she wasn’t well-liked by anyone else in the family and the old man had been the only reason Lark stayed employed there.

Still, it was more likely to have been the chef than Silas. At least Tessa had somewhere to start her investigation.

Chapter 9

"WELL, HERE WE ARE. Back where we began." Gloria put the car in park. They'd spent the rest of the day on three additional reaps, with Gloria giving Tessa tips now and then.

Tessa hadn't needed to use her special badge—the reaps had all been in private homes or outside where no one else was around. She’d made a mental note to figure out a good spot to keep the lanyard when she wasn’t working. She could easily imagine herself losing the thing and then having to frantically search everywhere for it.

She hopped out of Gloria's car and then stuck her head back through the doorway. "Thanks for everything today. You're a great boss!"

Gloria chuckled and made a shooing motion. "Go on. I'm having dinner with Ella, and I don't want to be late."

"Have fun. Hey, ask her about that Thai food, will ya?"

Gloria drove off in a hurry. Good thing Linda fired right up with no problem. But before Tessa could put the car into reverse, already thinking about Silas and what she may be able to do next for him, her phone buzzed. She pulled it out to see a text from her mom: Care to come over for dinner at seven?

Tessa chewed her bottom lip for a second, wondering what to do. Once again, it was late in the evening, and Tessa had no idea how she could possibly help Silas. Gloria had put her investigation in the right direction. But it wasn’t like she was a detective. She was a reaper. And her mother was now even higher up in the pecking order. Maybe she could offer some insight that neither Tessa nor Gloria had thought of yet.

Tessa’s stomach grumbled, clinching the decision. She typed back quickly: Sure. Need me to bring anything?

The answer came almost immediately: I think I'm all set.

It was just like Cheryl to be “all set.” She was Type A in every single way, which included hosting others for dinner—even her own daughter. She’d been that way as long as Tessa could remember.

Tessa wondered how her mother had managed it all. Cheryl kept the house clean, got dinner prepped and ready by seven every night, and still maintained a solid relationship with Tessa’s father. And she did that between reaps, PTA, choir practice, and attending Tessa’s extracurricular activities.

The clock on Linda's dashboard said it was before six o'clock. Tessa considered going to her apartment for a little while but quickly decided against it. Maybe she could learn a few other things from her mother. She drove straight to her mom's house and parked on the street out front.

As usual, pulling up to her childhood home brought on a flood of memories and emotions. She'd had a good childhood, if a tiny bit lonely as an only child. So, most of the memories were good. Still, Tessa always thought about her dad as she walked the familiar path up the driveway to the front door. She really missed him, and whenever something new happened in her life, she always wondered how he would react to it.

Her mind drifted to Silas, and she imagined bringing him home to meet her dad. She had no doubt they’d get along, since both men liked working with their hands and putting in an honest day’s labor.

It was more than that, though. Silas was the first guy she’d ever thought this way about. Her heart squeezed at the thought that the two men would never get to sit down and have a meal together or commiserate over Tessa's less desirable traits.

She entered the house and called out, so she wouldn't startle her mom.

Cheryl appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing an apron. "You're an hour early, Theresa. Dinner’s not ready." Her tone of voice seemed to indicate that Tessa should turn around and leave the house.

Tessa shook her head. "Sorry. I just had nothing to do for an hour, so I decided to come on over. Maybe I could help you with dinner?"

Cheryl's face twisted for a second in an expression that clearly showed she had doubts about Tessa's ability to help. She quickly smoothed the wrinkles in her forehead out. “You? Help with dinner?”

Tessa rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mom. I can cook a little bit. Besides, I could use a lesson or two. You can teach me more, so I’ll get better at it."

“I tried to when you were in high school.”

“I wasn’t ready for it then.” No, I was dealing with other stuff. She batted her eyelashes a little bit and tried to look younger.

Cheryl sighed and headed back into the kitchen. "Come on, then."

Tessa dropped her purse on a chair in the living room on her way through to the kitchen. "Smells good in here. What are we having?"

"Roasted chicken and vegetables. You can chop the potatoes." Cheryl gestured toward a bowl full of russets on the counter. "I already scrubbed them."

Tessa washed her hands in the kitchen sink and then began chopping. Cheryl was busy seasoning the bird, which was already in a roasting pan.

"So, how was your first day as the Eastern district supervisor?" Tessa asked.

“Horrible. There was a mound of paperwork and video conferencing—between which I had plenty of additional regulations to read.” She cut her eyes toward Tessa. “You know, all the job description type of stuff that you skimmed over when you started your new job.”

With a smirk, Tessa dropped a handful of newly chopped potatoes into the pan. “I figured you’d tell me anything truly important.”

“Yes, well, my boss isn’t so accommodating as yours was.”

Tessa thought about Corwin Blade. He’d been pretty nice to her, but she could imagine it wouldn’t be good to be on his bad side. As a grim reaper, getting fired isn’t the worst thing that could happen when important rules get broken. At least, that’s what Cheryl had hinted at now and then.

“The secret is to stuff bits of butter and herbs under the skin.” Cheryl demonstrated, showing Tessa how to season the chicken. “The second secret is to not overcook it.”

“But it’s chicken.” Tessa eyed it as if just looking at it might give her salmonella.

“A lot of people are antsy about chicken, and they want to make extra sure it’s done. So, I have a secret weapon to guard against that.” Cheryl held up a meat thermometer.

“That’s it? Not very glamorous. I thought you were going to show me a real secret,” Tessa teased. “Like one from the big guy.” She cut her eyes toward her mother. “You have one of those, don’t you?”

Cheryl gave no indication she knew what Tessa was talking about. “I have a thermometer, dear. I pull the chicken out of the oven when it’s about five degrees below where I want it to end up. It’ll continue to cook a bit and finish up once it’s out. That’s another thing a lot of people don’t realize about chicken. If you cook it until it gets to the temperature you’re going for before taking it out, it will be overcooked.”

Tessa dumped the rest of the potato chunks into the roasting pan, and Cheryl slid the whole thing into the oven. Then she turned toward her daughter, and her eyes dropped to Tessa’s chest. “What’s that?”

Tessa’s hand flew up. Did her V-neck dip too low? But when her fingertips brushed the special badge, she winced internally. She’d gotten distracted with memories when she arrived at Cheryl’s house and hadn’t taken it off.

“A reaper badge,” Tessa said cautiously, unsure whether her mother was upset or not. “Gloria said you didn’t think I was ready for this, but she does.”

Cheryl’s expression wasn’t readable. “She’s your direct supervisor now. I won’t have time to micromanage all of the agency managers, nor do I care to. If Gloria’s wrong, she’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

Not exactly a ringing endorsement of either Gloria’s managerial skills or Tessa’s ability to not screw up her new responsibilities. But in the world of Cheryl Randolph, it was pretty good. Tessa decided to take it as a victory and not push her luck.

Cheryl crossed the room and pulled two wine glasses out of the antique hutch there. She splashed what Tessa guessed was close to an exact ounce of red wine into each of them and handed her daughter one. “Care to sit on the back porch while the chicken roasts?” She grinned. “Since you were early.”

Tessa accepted the glass and followed her mother through the house and out the back door. Cheryl glanced over her shoulder. “Do you need a sweater? The evening’s a bit chilly.”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

They settled into chairs and sipped in silence for a few minutes, each looking over the back yard and its prim landscaping.

Finally, Cheryl said, “So, did you have a chance to use that today?” She tipped her head toward the badge.

“Gloria mentored me on several reaps. I used the badge at the hospital for an elderly woman and again at the chemical plant. But I didn’t need it for the rest of them.” She wasn’t about to tell her mom they’d gone to Mr. Green’s property and used Gloria’s new invisibility to spy on the people there. Cheryl was in a more flexible, sweet mood than usual, but there was no way she’d condone what they’d done, even if it was to help an innocent man escape wrongful charges.

As though Cheryl picked Silas out of Tessa’s thoughts, she said, “I heard about your landlord being arrested for Artemis Green’s murder.”

Maybe it was the wine. More likely, it was being in her childhood home and all the feelings that brought up. But whatever it was, Tessa felt herself sort of crumble inside at her mother’s words. “It was all my fault. Gloria was right. I shouldn’t have lied to him. If I hadn’t, he never would have followed me on Mr. Green’s reap and gotten himself caught on camera.” The words sounded anguished, even to her own ears, but she couldn’t help it.

Still, as soon as they were out of her mouth, Tessa regretted saying them. She just knew Cheryl would give her a dressing down for putting Silas in harm’s way.

Only she didn’t. She did something else entirely.

Cheryl smiled slightly, mostly in her eyes. “You really like him, don’t you?”

Tessa had to fight through her startled feelings to choke out an answer. “He’s a really nice guy.”

“Cute too.” Cheryl winked.

Tessa’s laughter surprised her. “Mom!” she chided. But then she shrugged and admitted, “Super cute.”

“I know I’m not your supervisor anymore, so maybe my opinion on this doesn’t matter, but I don’t agree with Gloria. I don’t think this is your fault—you weren’t lying to Silas just for the sake of lying. You were trying to protect him. You didn’t know it would work out this way.” She gazed across the back yard, a wistful look on her face. “We so often can’t predict what our loved ones will do.”

Tessa knew Cheryl was remembering Michael Randolph, who had made a decision to take Tessa’s place when she was scheduled to die. Cheryl hadn’t known her husband was going to do it.

As though dragging herself back to the current time, Cheryl returned her gaze to her daughter. “Things will work out for your Silas. The police still have a lot of work to do to prove he’s guilty of Mr. Green’s murder.”

They fell into silence again, sipping wine and losing themselves in their own thoughts. Tessa wasn’t so sure that the police would do much more to prove Silas’s guilt. The words that Mrs. Cross had used, open and shut case, drifted back to her.

But thinking about her elderly neighbor gave Tessa an idea about where to go next in her own investigation.

Chapter 10

TESSA SORT OF THOUGHT it wasn't a regular thing for grim reapers to have a day off. At least, when she’d looked over her contract, that wasn't included.

Oh, she had plenty of time off—when she wasn't actively on a reap or filling out paperwork, Tessa could pretty much do whatever she wanted. But, still, unless she specifically requested vacation time and her jobs were shifted to other reapers in the agency, Tessa expected to work some every day.

How did that idiom go? There were two certainties in life and the death one kept her and many other reapers busy. She wondered if taxes were so certain, how come accountants only worked hard one or two months of the year?

But when she got up the morning after having dinner with Cheryl, her app was blank. There were no reaps scheduled for her that day.

"Thanks, Gloria." Tessa smiled. Clearly, her friend had arranged it so Tessa would have the day free to investigate Artemis Green’s murder. And luckily, she knew exactly where she wanted to begin.

She gathered her supplies, making sure to grab the magical badge Gloria had given her the day before, and headed out the door.

Her intention was to knock on Mrs. Cross's door and see if she knew Lark’s address. But Tessa was surprised to find Mrs. Cross already in the hallway, heading for the lobby. The bandana was no longer on her head, and the curlers were out, tight round tunnels of hair left in their wake.

"Good morning, Mrs. Cross!” Tessa hurried to catch up with the elderly lady. "Where are you off to so early?"

The elderly woman glared at Tessa, who held her breath, figuring the woman was going to tell her off and refuse to help.

Instead, Mrs. Cross puffed out a breath. "Well, I wouldn't normally consider it to be any of your business, girl. But, since it’s to do with that dreadful murder your boyfriend committed, I'll tell you.”

Tessa ground her teeth, thinking better than to respond. She needed Mrs. Cross’s help.

“I'm going to visit Sky. She called me last night, distraught. Now, she and I don't normally have a lot of love lost between us, you know. But those idiot relatives of Artemis’s fired her daughter Lark, who takes care of her now. I thought I'd go over and check in on them. See how they’re doing."

“What did they fire her for?” Tessa hoped she looked and sounded appropriately clueless and not at all like someone who had used invisibility magic to listen in on the mentioned firing.

“Bah.” Mrs. Cross looked so disgusted Tessa thought she might spit on the hallway carpet. “Apparently, Nathaniel’s accusing her of killing Artemis.”

Tessa felt like there was an opportunity here, but she had to think fast. She started speaking slowly and picked up steam as the idea coalesced. "Um, you know, if Lark thinks she was wrongfully terminated, the law office I work for may be interested in hearing about the case."

Mrs. Cross leaned more heavily on her cane and peered at Tessa, who tried to keep her face from revealing the lie. “You work for a lawyer?” The wrinkles on her forehead were even deeper than usual.

“That’s right. I’m a paralegal.” Tessa swallowed hard, steeled herself, and lifted the badge, hoping fervently that it would show appropriate credentials for a paralegal. Would the magic work if Tessa wasn’t using it for an actual reap? And if she was lying for personal gain?

She reminded herself it wasn’t personal. Tessa was trying to right a wrong here. Silas definitely hadn’t killed Mr. Green. All she was trying to do was prove that by revealing who had. Surely, the universe or Grim Reaper magic or whatever it was that was responsible for making the badge work would be interested in aiding that honorable intent.

And just to add some extra oomph, she crossed her fingers behind her back. It never hurt to hedge your bets.

Mrs. Cross squinted at the badge. She adjusted her glasses and squinted harder. Tessa held it out farther, until her neighbor’s nose was about an inch from the picture.

Silence fell over the hallway, except for the sound of someone’s television blaring a morning talk show from inside a nearby apartment.

The woman’s forehead scrunched and her nose wrinkled, pulling her upper lip off her teeth and making her resemble a beaver.

Finally, she backed away from the badge. Tessa waited for her to announce it was blank. But, instead, she said, “Well, then. If that’s the case, you may as well come with me to see them. You can drive.”

A flood of relief made Tessa feel like giggling. She bit it back and opened the door to the lobby to let Mrs. Cross through. As they passed the front desk, Tessa felt a stab of melancholy at the fact that it was empty. Silas would probably be absolutely buried in work when he returned. He always had a long to-do list, and missing work would leave him behind.

Maybe she could get Gloria to give her another day off to help him catch up when he got released.

If he got released.

Mrs. Cross complained about one thing or another the entire trip to Lark’s place. First, about Tessa’s driving. She was going too fast, then too slow. Finally, her complaints broadened outside the car. The hairdresser hadn’t been able to get her in when she wanted. The thermostat in her apartment made the place colder when she wanted it warmer. That murderous landlord had probably set the chemicals wrong in the pool and that’s why she had eczema on her ankles during the summer.

Tessa was grateful when Mrs. Cross pointed to their left, almost bashing Tessa in the nose with her arm, and barked, “There! Pull in.”

It was a more modest apartment building, even, than Mist River Manor, which would never be called lavish in any circle. The sign out front said King’s Court. At least, that’s what Tessa thought it said. Several letters on the painted sign were faded and peeled enough to be unrecognizable.

She ran around to open the passenger side and offered Mrs. Cross her arm, which the elderly woman took to haul herself out of Linda. Tessa reached past her to grab the cane.

“Which apartment?” she wondered as they approached the run-down building, which looked more like a motel than apartments, with a line of doors that all opened to the outside.

“That one.” Mrs. Cross pointed with a trembling finger at one of the doors.

Lark answered after only one knock. “Oh, hello, Louise.” She didn’t smile when she addressed Mrs. Cross. Then her eyes swept to Tessa. “Who’s this?”

“My neighbor.” Mrs. Cross started to walk forward, forcing Lark to step aside or risk bruised toes. “She works for a lawyer, so I brought her to see if there’s anything to be done for your situation.”

Tessa hesitated, hoping Lark would formally invite her over the threshold, but the chef only thinned her lips and stared, so she tiptoed in after Mrs. Cross.

The apartment was neat and clean, though sparsely appointed. They were in a tiny living room, where Mrs. Cross already sat in a sky-blue armchair and a loveseat was the only other seat. An old-style tube TV sat on a worn wooden table and a crossword puzzle book lay open on a chipped up white painted coffee table.

“I guess you’d better have a seat. Do you want any tea or water?” Lark’s tone revealed she was a reluctant hostess.

“No, thank you,” Tessa answered. “We won’t take much of your time. Mrs. Cross told me you were wrongfully terminated from your position on Artemis Green’s staff, and I wondered if my firm may be able to help.”

She shrugged, misery etched on her features. “I doubt it. Nathaniel is ruling the roost now, and he’s a worm. I doubt your lawyers will be nearly as venomous as his.”

“Lark! Where are your manners? You shouldn’t talk ill of others in mixed company.” A barefoot woman dressed in a turquoise and cream peasant skirt and cream linen top with sleeves that ended in wide, flowing openings, entered the living room from a hallway. She had buttery blonde hair swept up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She smiled brightly at Tessa and then Mrs. Cross, though it faltered at the edges on her.

“What mixed company, Ma?” Lark looked baffled. “It’s Louise Cross who used to work at the Green place with you and a paralegal lady.”

Lark’s mother crossed the room in a sashay that, combined with the peasant skirt, made her appear to be floating. She shook Mrs. Cross’s hand and then Tessa’s. “I’m Sky. Welcome to our home.” She waved a hand around and a frown tugged at her lips. “Such as it is.”

With a groan, Lark threw herself into the love seat next to Tessa. “You know how I feel about that, Ma,” she grumbled.

Sky ignored her daughter and perched on the edge of the coffee table, since there weren’t any more real chairs. Tessa figured she was around Mr. and Mrs. Green’s age, but she looked healthy, like Artemis had, rather than frail like Mrs. Green—or Mrs. Cross.

Sky blew out a puff of breath. "Yes, I know how you feel about it, dear. And we did it your way, didn't we? That's why we’ll be stuck in this apartment forever.”

“To be fair,” Lark leveled her gaze on her mother, “we live this way because of the way I was raised. Can I help it if I took some notes from my mother?”

“A woman can change her mind,” Sky said. “I thought it was best at the time. Now, we’ll only be here for as long as the money lasts. Then, we'll have to find a new place to live."

"I'll find another job." Lark sounded exhausted, as though they'd had this conversation many times recently. "I'm sure I can find something at a local restaurant or hotel or something. I can cook and clean."

Sky waved a hand. "Yes, yes." Her tone was resigned. "We'll make do, I suppose." She glanced at Tessa and Mrs. Cross as though she'd forgotten the other two women were in her living room. "Recently, we had a chance to do better, you know. Now, that's gone forever."

"Because Lark was fired?" Tessa guessed. "I was actually hoping to hear about that."

But Sky was already shaking her head. "No, no. She was never going to get rich working for Artemis. But she gave up her chance of getting the real money that was due to her.”

“What was due to you?” Tessa was confused.

Sky sent a look of question over to Lark, who nodded as if allowing her mother to say whatever she was about to reveal.

“Lark is his. We had an affair about a year or so after I began working for him. You see, his wife wasn’t doing well at the time, and he just needed some companionship. Honestly, it was a fling. I was a free spirit at the time. And it wasn’t like it is today. I couldn’t be sure that she was his.

“Still, he offered me a huge amount of money for us to just go away—disappear into the night.”

“And you didn’t take it.” Lark shook her head, smiling lovingly at her mother.

“I was silly. Money didn’t mean a thing to me, and I thought you needed your father in your life. Working there, I was able to bring her along many days. Artemis practically treated her like one of his own while they were together.”

“You did the right thing, Ma. I loved getting to know him. My half-sister too, even if I couldn't tell her we were related. And you were right—money isn’t the answer to anyone’s prayers. Just look at what it’s done to Hannah and Nathaniel.”

Sky glanced at her daughter. "Of course, now I’m regretting the way I raised you.”

“Why do you say that?” Tessa asked.

“Because she refused him again! About a month ago, he offered to give Lark her inheritance but on the condition that she quit her job. And she refused! Refused the huge sum that he tried to give her. Instead, she begged to be allowed to stay on, so she could be near him every day."

"There are things in life that are more important than money, Ma." Lark's tone was firm.

Tessa's mind raced, trying to catch up with the story Sky had told. But her mind was stuck on the first point. "So, Artemis Green was your father?"

These words startled Mrs. Cross out of some sort of stupor. “What was that? I still had my cheaters tuned to the radio.”

“I was just telling your friend that Lark is Mr. Green’s daughter.”

Lark nodded, and Tessa said, "And why couldn't you tell Hannah?"

"I couldn’t tell anybody. My father was afraid it would upset his wife so much that she may have a stroke or heart attack or something. She's been frail since her sickness.” Lark shrugged. "Plus, the whole affair thing. I went along with it to make my dad happy. And it was worth it. I got to be near him. Talk to him. He was very kind to me. It was a win-win situation. Until now."

Sky spoke up. "Yes, now, everything is over. You don't have your father anymore, and you don't have any of the money you’re due because you're his daughter just as much as Hannah is. I’d say I told you so, but that ship has sailed."

"It isn't really Hannah who's going to inherit the money anyway," Lark snapped. When her mother opened her mouth to argue, Lark held up a hand. "Nathaniel works at my father’s company. Hannah's a mouse. Her husband controls her and everything about their marriage. He’s really the one who's going to control the inheritance. I'm sure he'll run my dad's property and his business into the ground. Perhaps my dear sister and I will meet again in the poorhouse."

Mrs. Cross clucked her tongue. "You should've taken the money and run, girl. Who turns down a fortune just to hang out with an old man and wait on his family hand and foot?"

Lark glared at Mrs. Cross. "I know this may be news to you, Louise, but, like I said before, there are more important things in life than money."

Mrs. Cross scoffed. "A little money never hurt anyone."

Tessa withheld a giggle. She knew through Silas that Mrs. Cross played the lottery every week.

Lark sighed. "No, but a lot of money can. I saw that close-up living in the Green household. Nathaniel has been completely spoiled by having wealth he didn't earn himself. He's a wretched man now. I'm glad I didn't take the money and become like that myself. In fact, that money made him murderous." She snarled the last word.

"You think Nathaniel killed Mr. Green?" Tessa guessed.

"Of course, he did. Who else would have? And why else would he be the one trying to get rid of me so quicky? I know they arrested some other poor slob for it, and they're trying to push me into being a secondary fall guy if the first one doesn’t hold. But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Nathaniel’s the one who poisoned my dad and tried to frame me for it."

Sky reached out and took her daughter’s hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, Ma, it’s not.” She let her head fall back against the loveseat and murmured, "The sad part is I think he'll probably get away with it."

Chapter 11

AGAIN, IT FELT LIKE Gloria was going easy on her. Tessa only had one reap that morning and the rest of the day was hers to do as she pleased. Normally, that meant streaming a few rom-coms after eating lunch out at her favorite dive restaurant. Tessa saw no comedies in her future. But there was always time for a burger and fries.

She stared across the street. It helped that her favorite greasy spoon was situated just across the road from Artemis Green’s company, aptly named Green Holdings and Properties.

She thought about barging inside, using her badge to gain entrance. The only problem with that was she didn’t have a solid plan for what to do or how to deal with anything she found once she got inside. She racked her brain for a plan while she dipped hand-cut fries into a mound of ketchup.

Sheila’s Diner served burgers so greasy they’d disintegrate the paper if you tried to take them to go. A thick milkshake helped to wash the gut bomb down.

Tessa paid and gathered up her things. She decided to just do it—just walk across the street and go in. She resolved to hope for some good fortune to come her way, however unlikely. Then, good fortune slipped right past her in the diner’s doorway, wearing way too much cologne.

Nathaniel shoved his way inside, never minding that Tessa was already midway through the exit. She gasped as his elbow shoved her in the side and then turned to watch him tip his head toward the cashier and pick up a brown paper bag, already laden with grease on the bottom.

Big mistake.

In only a few seconds, he’d brushed past Tessa again and hopped into a Mercedes illegally parked in a handicap spot out front.

Finally, her brain clicked on. Tessa went into high gear, rushing to Linda and not giving the old gal a choice but to roar to life. She revved the engine, then sped off in pursuit of the much fancier car.

She was focused on the road, making turn after turn but trying not to tail Nathaniel too closely, when her phone rang with an unknown number.

Tessa was used to calls from debt collectors from before—when she’d worked as a waitress at Frank’s restaurant and lived paycheck to paycheck. But it’d been months since becoming a reaper had landed her squarely in financially stable territory. She’d paid off everything.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she answered, flipping the phone to speaker mode.

On the other end of the line, a robotic voice said, “Will you accept a collect call from Silas St. Onge?”

“Silas? Uh, yeah. Sure.”

There was a moment’s pause before the lines clicked over and she heard Silas’s breathing, slow and steady, into the receiver. “Silas?”

“Tessa, hey.”

“Hi.” She didn’t really know what to say. She wondered why he’d choose to call her. Didn’t he only get one phone call? And he had to be so mad. Plus, she was a little busy. Linda was having trouble keeping up with the more performant vehicle, and Tessa had no clue where Nathaniel was heading. It wasn’t to Mr. Green’s mansion.

In fact, they were pointed toward the opposite side of town. Maybe the casino? She hadn’t been that way in a long time, not since chasing down Chet Sanborn’s spirit.

“Are you busy?” Silas asked.

“Kind of,” she admitted.

“Okay, well, this won’t take long. I don’t really have a lot of time.”

“Silas, shouldn’t you be calling your lawyer or something?”

He laughed, full-throated and genial. She hadn’t thought she’d hear his laugh ever again, not like that. “That’s not exactly how it works. I’ve already talked—I’ve already seen my lawyer a bunch. And I do get a few minutes for personal calls.”

“Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say, considering the circumstance I’m in?”

“No.” She bit her lip, making another turn. “I’ve got a lot to say. For one, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know you are. And look, it’s partially my fault.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll just get to the point.” He sighed. “I know. I know how you act in situations like this. And I wanted to tell you not to.”

“Not to what?”

“Not to do whatever it is you’re doing right now. You’re trying to get me out, aren’t you?”

“Well, sort of . . .”

“Just don’t. Okay? That’s why I called. I want you to sit this one out.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Tessa groaned.

“What? What’s up?”

Tessa couldn’t tell Silas the real reason she’d blurted out those words—because they’d undermine her cause. He’d just asked her to do the opposite of what she was doing. She couldn’t exactly tell him that Nathaniel had pulled into her old nemesis, the Sweetwater Golf Course.

“I can’t just let you rot in prison.” Tessa pulled into a spot toward the back of the lot.

“I’m not in prison. It’s jail. And yes, you can. I’ve got a lawyer. The police can find the real killer.”

“They won’t,” Tessa argued.

“You can’t know that. I’ve got to go. Please, just listen to me for once. I’m fine. I don’t need your help.” He hung up before she could get another word in edgewise.

* * *

NATHANIEL WENT INSIDE the clubhouse and came back to his car with a golf cart. He loaded it with a set of clubs from his trunk, then set the brown paper bag, which was getting soggier by the minute, on the seat next to him.

Seriously?

Lark and Mrs. Cross hadn’t been wrong about Nathaniel. There were so many other things he could be doing right now in the middle of the day. He could be working. He could be comforting his wife, who’d just lost her father. Instead, he was spending his father-in-law’s money to play a round of golf.

Tessa seethed, not only at Nathaniel but also at the golf course. It was the scene of her very first reap and also where she’d had to perform some reaper trickeration to send Chet Sanborn’s killer to the white lights that greeted everyone when their time came to an end. She hated this and every other golf course. It was like some sort of cosmic joke that she ended up on one so often.

Tessa did some quick thinking. What would Gloria do in this situation? Gloria would have the perfect outfit in the trunk of her car. Tessa wasn’t so lucky. But she did have a paid-off credit card. She went in the clubhouse, found a pastel polo, a skirt, and some golf shoes, then bought a half dozen drinks from the cooler.

The cashier asked if she’d like to pay for a round of golf, but when she saw the price, her eyes bulged. It was the same as she’d pay for the outfit and drinks! She lied and told him that her husband would be there shortly, finding a random name on the tee times list somewhere below Nathaniel Neilson.

“Ah! Very good, then,” the cashier said.

Tessa smiled and hoped he wouldn’t notice when she stole a golf cart to chase Nathaniel down on the first tee.

She changed in the lady’s locker room, then made her way to the practice green where a line of golf carts sat with the keys inside. Stealing a golf cart had to be the easiest thing she’d done all week.

But Nathaniel wasn’t on the first hole. He wasn’t on the second tee either. He played fast. She found him at the turn before the third tee, sitting in his golf cart and enjoying the greasy burger from Sheila’s.

“Need something to wash that down?” She pulled alongside him.

Momentarily, he was taken aback. “Do you work here?”

She nodded. “I’m the new cart girl.” She hoped she remembered the lingo. Hadn’t her first reap thought that’s who she had to be?

“Oh.” Nathaniel scowled. “I thought you folks had a special cart.”

Tessa wanted to slap her forehead. Of course the cart girl had a special cart to carry the snacks and beverages. Here she was with a regular cart and six cans of various soda. “It’s, uh, it’s in the shop. We had to make do with this. You want anything or not?” A little attitude always helped in situations like this.

“Uh, sure.” He nodded, still skeptical, but dug in his back pocket for his wallet. He handed her a twenty, picked a diet soda, and told her to keep the change.

Twenty dollars for a soda. Yeah, he really doesn’t know anything about money.

His face told her she’d already worn out her welcome. Tessa gave the cart a little gas but stopped abruptly. “Hey! Wait.” Her tone made a one-eighty from before. “You’re Nathaniel Neilson, right?”

“You . . . you know who I am?”

“Of course I do!” she said. “You’re practically as famous as your father-in law. You work at Green Holdings, right? I was so sad to hear about Mr. Green’s passing.”

“It’s a tragedy,” Nathaniel said mournfully.

“Does that mean you’re running things there now?”

“I, um. Yes, I guess it does.” He glanced around the greenery, maybe a tad embarrassed he wasn’t there working now. “It basically runs itself these days, though.”

“I’m sure.” Tessa nodding encouragingly. “I’m just glad they caught the guy who did it. I’m sure you are too.”

Nathaniel winced. “I’m afraid I don’t think they’ve got the right person.”

“No?” Tessa wondered if he was truly being honest. Did he really think Lark was the culprit? Maybe so. But Tessa wasn’t convinced.

“It’s a very complicated family dynamic. I’m sure you understand.”

“Not really,” Tessa replied.

“I’m sure you have other golfers to attend to. “This time, it was crystal clear he was meaning to shoo her away. He stretched and rubbed at his back. “And, you know what? I think I pulled a muscle in the last sand trap. I’d better be heading back. It was nice meeting you.”

He nodded, threw his cart in reverse, and looped around her, heading back in the direction of the club house.

Now, Tessa was sure he was lying. Only she didn’t know about what.

Chapter 12

EXHAUSTED WASN’T THE right word to describe how Tessa felt as she fell into bed. She squirmed into her favorite position, on her right side with her knees drawn up a bit. With a deep sigh, she stared into the darkness and began to count slowly from fifty back toward zero. Somewhere around thirty-nine, her eyelids began to get heavy and slide shut.

A horrifying noise from the inky black corner of the room stabbed through the silence and caused Tessa to roll out of bed and onto her feet in a crouch, as though she may need to defend herself. But the fast movement made her dizzy, and she wobbled and then crashed back against the bed.

No matter what Silas thought, she was never going to be a superhero. If anything, he was the superhero around the apartment complex. And with him gone, there were already grumblings about broken furnaces and the leaves piling up around the pool.

But there hadn’t been any sort of talk about break-ins. Tessa scoured her room for a pointy or heavy club-like object. Either or would do, but both was preferred.

The sound repeated, and Tessa recognized it this time. She called off the internal search for a weapon.

“Pepper!” She groaned as she managed to get her feet under her and flipped on the bedside lamp. Sure enough, the cat was in the corner, sitting next to a giant hair ball, looking proud of herself.

"Are you going to clean it up?" Tessa put her hands on her hips and stared at the tortie cat, who stared back impassively, eyes half-lidded.

After a moment, Pepper stalked away from the mess, hopped up onto Tessa's bed, and curled into a tight ball. She closed her eyes, giving a clear signal to Tessa that it was her job to clean up.

"Fine. But don't ask me for any canned food for the next week," Tessa grumbled.

After she’d taken care of the mess, Tessa climbed back into bed, making sure to snap the blankets in such a way that it would disturb Pepper. The cat lifted her head and gave Tessa a searing glare.

"Hey, I'm just returning the favor." Tessa grinned and then settled herself back into her favorite position, snapping off the bedside lamp. She closed her eyes and started at fifty again, slowly counting backward.

This time, the horrible sound that erupted into the black night definitely wasn't the cat bringing up a hairball.

In fact, Pepper was just as startled by the harsh, blaring siren noise. Eyes wide with feral panic, the cat leaped off the bed and ran out of the room, her claws making a scratching noise as they dug into the carpet to give her more momentum.

Tessa sat up, flipped on the lamp again, and reached for her phone—the thing making the horrible klaxon sound. She looked at the screen and noticed it was the reaper app trying to get her attention. She'd never heard it make a sound like that before.

Never a dull moment with this job.

She frantically swept at the screen, trying to get it to shut off. The apartment’s walls weren’t particularly thick, and she could already imagine the neighbors pounding on her door to yell at her.

After fifteen seconds of frantically pawing at the device, Tessa was able to get the alarm off and open the reaper app to discover the thing had been making such a horrid noise because there was a reap happening in less than fifteen minutes.

Tessa leaped out of bed, thinking that she must've missed the original notification. She scrolled through the assignment, scanning the text to find out where she was supposed to show up, but her eyes focused on the name of the assignment instead. Her heart pounded in her ears—she recognized that name. She more than recognized that name.

The time of death and the estimated time of arrival—both provided by the app—were very close. Too close. Tessa glanced down at herself. She was in pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, so she decided to call it good enough.

Clutching her phone in her hand, she rushed out of her room, through the apartment, and out the door. She was several steps down the hallway before she skidded to a stop, did an about-face, and rushed back into the apartment to slip on a pair of flip-flops. She knew her feet would probably freeze and turn blue in the cool night, but she didn't have time for anything else. The assignment’s address was at least ten minutes from the apartment building, if she ignored the speed limit. There was almost no way she could make it in time.

Thankfully, Linda started right up. In fact, she seemed raring to go, which was good, because by the time Tessa was on the road, she only had seven minutes to get to the reap. It was in the same general neighborhood as Artemis Green’s house, which was also lucky because Tessa had been there several times in recent days, so she was confident of the route.

This place didn't have a gate out front, and it wasn't as majestic of a home as Mr. Greens, but in Tessa's world, it still qualified as a mansion. It was white clapboard colonial style, and there was one other car in the driveway. Tessa jumped out of Linda and hastily checked the upper corners of the porch for cameras, but, unlike at the Green residence, didn't spot any.

She crept up to the front door, half expecting guard dogs or something to leap out of the darkness at her. But nothing happened, and the doorknob turned easily under her hand. She eased herself through the doorway into a big, marble-floored lobby with a spiral staircase in the center. The area was dimly lit by the soft light of a single lamp on the far side of the room.

Movement to her left caught Tessa's attention, and she swung around, trying to think of a way to explain her presence in the home if she got caught by a family or staff member.

But it wasn't her assignment or a member of his household coming out of the doorway. Tessa recognized Jake, another reaper in her office. His expression was grim, which wasn't like him.

Any other time Tessa had ever interacted with Jake, he'd been jovial and friendly—a jokester who liked to have fun. But now, he looked positively solemn. The lamplight cast shadows on his face, which added to the somber effect. He stopped short when he saw her. "Oh, hey."

Tessa glanced over his shoulder into the dark room behind him. "What's going on? I got some weird alarm on the reaper app that I'd never seen before."

"Oh, it was an emergency reap. Something that wasn't on the schedule until the last minute. Everyone within a certain proximity gets a notification, and we’re all supposed to rush there in hopes that someone makes it in time. I was able to get here first."

Tessa was moving forward before she consciously decided to, scooting past Jake into a well-appointed office that made the words man cave leap into Tessa's mind. Everything was all leather and mahogany. But it was lacking in books. There was a stale smell of cigar smoke, but it wasn’t foul smelling. If anything, it was the opposite.

Nathaniel, Artemis Green’s son-in-law, sat slumped in a fine leather chair behind a huge, glisteningly clean desk. Tessa could've almost believed he was sleeping if it weren't for the extreme slackness in his facial muscles and the open pill bottle next to a half-full glass of water on the desk in front of him.

Tessa moved farther into the room to look at the pills without touching the bottle. She couldn’t read the label in the dim lighting, but she could read the big words scrawled on the note that sat next to it:

I'm sorry. I made a huge mistake when I killed my father-in-law. I couldn't live with it. Please forgive me.

Tessa turned to Jake, who had reentered the room with her. "What did he say? His soul, I mean, when you took it over?"

Jake grimaced and ran a hand through dull-copper-colored hair. "I don't usually ask them questions. I've found I sleep better at night when I don't. But he did seem a little confused. Lots of rapid blinking and looking around."

"Confused? If he killed himself, why would he be confused?"

"Well, it happens sometimes when people don't believe in an afterlife. They're surprised to find that they still have a form of consciousness after their death. It seems to happen a lot with suicides."

Tessa pressed her lips together and looked around the room, but there weren’t any other obvious clues. "You sure that's what happened? He committed suicide?"

Jake shrugged. "I guess I can't be sure. By the time I got here, he was already dead. Luckily, his soul was just standing there, like I said, confused."

With a start, Tessa realized they were talking in normal voices. What if they got caught? She lowered her volume. "Have you seen anyone else here?"

He shook his head. "I don't think anybody’s home. Listen, I'm going to take off. I want to get a little bit of shuteye tonight before work. You know how it goes with our job—never a day off." He gave her a wry smile.

Tessa nodded. "Have a good night. I'll be right behind you."

But when Jake left the house, Tessa didn't immediately follow. Instead, she made her way quickly through all the rooms on the ground floor. All empty. Next, she crept up the spiral staircase in the center of the foyer and did a quick check of all the rooms up there. They were equally dark and deserted, including what was obviously the master bedroom.

Where was Hannah? It was the middle of the night—shouldn't she be sleeping in her own bed?

Tessa went back to the office and looked one more time over the note. Nathaniel’s penmanship was exquisite. He’d even signed his name—probably something he was used to doing working at Mr. Green’s business.

Beside the note, there was an open envelope and a letter addressed to Nathaniel and Hannah. It was from Mr. Green’s estate attorney about his will. They were going to have a meeting at the residence.

A bit unorthodox.

But even more interesting, Tessa found Lark’s name amongst those invited to attend. Maybe Sky was wrong. Maybe Lark was going to come into some money after all.

She hoped so.

Tessa made one last look around, satisfied that she was truly there alone. Then she hurriedly retreated, making her way back out to Linda.

It seemed like an open and shut case, like Mrs. Cross had called Artemis Green’s murder. Nathaniel, feeling guilty about having killed Mr. Green, had taken an overdose of pills. It made complete sense.

So why was Tessa’s gut telling her that Nathaniel's death hadn't been a suicide?

Chapter 13

TESSA MADE HER WAY through the lobby of Mist River Manor Apartments with her thoughts still churning over Nathaniel's death. Could he really have killed himself?

When she and Gloria had watched him from the safety of invisibility, he'd been accusing Lark of the crime. And Silas had been arrested for it already. And at the golf course, he’d practically admitted that Mr. Green’s death left him in a prime position with their company. He liked the small bit of notoriety Tessa had given him.

So, why would Nathaniel admit to murdering Mr. Green when he didn't have to? He basically got off scot-free, with a lucrative company to boot.

Something didn't add up. Tessa had pretty much convinced herself that Mr. Green’s son-in-law had been murdered too. But would the police think that?

She highly doubted it. The cops in Mist River seemed to like their cases straightforward, and this one was pretty much just that. If Nathaniel and Artemis had both been killed by the same person, it was going to be up to Tessa to figure out who that culprit was.

But how was she going to do that? Tessa rolled the question over and over in her mind, wondering about the best place to start with the investigation the next morning.

She tried to go back to sleep, but the thoughts were too many. Counting backward wasn’t working. She was caught somewhere in the middle between dreaming and scheming her next move in tracking down this killer when several knocks rapped on her door.

Still dressed in her pajamas and struggling to figure out what time of day it was, she checked the peephole and opened the door.

“You’re out of jail!”

Silas nodded. “They let me go. Someone else admitted to the crime.”

"I see.” Tessa knew who that someone was. She ushered Silas inside, unsure what the past few days meant for their friendship. She checked the time, and it was an unholy hour. Some people called it morning, but Tessa wasn’t included with them.

Silas sat on the couch, and almost immediately, Pepper strode in, acting as if she’d had the best sleep of the century, and she leaped on the couch. She curled up next to him as he stroked her head slowly.

Tessa suddenly felt self-conscious in her pajamas. She sank into an armchair across from Silas and pulled a blanket over her. "Okay, so this is the first place you go when they release you from jail? Why? I would think you’d want to go to your own apartment and chill for a while. I can’t imagine you got much good rest or quality food lately."

"I came here because we need to talk. While I was sitting in that cell, I had a lot of time to think about what you said—that you’re the Grim Reaper—”

Tessa stiffened. "I'm not the Grim Reaper," she corrected. "I'm a grim reaper.”

“Well, I believe it. I believe you. I want you to know I didn't say a word about that while I was in custody. I didn't say anything about you at all, actually, or the death I saw you perform."

“I didn't perform that death. That's not how it works. Deaths just happen the way they happen and we reapers escort the souls across the veil to the next step in their journey. We don't aid, abet, or cause deaths."

She wrinkled her nose a little as she thought about Lee Stuart. Then she shook her head to clear that particular thought. Lee hadn't killed people because he was a reaper. He'd killed people because he was a bad person.

Silas pursed his lips and seemed to mull over what she'd said in silence for a few minutes, continuing to pet Pepper, who purred softly at the attention.

Finally, he blew out a breath. "Okay, I get it. And also, that's really crazy. But I can accept it—I mean, I'm sure there are a lot of things in the world that can't be readily known or understood by the average human mind. But that’s not the problem.”

“No?” Tessa tried to understand where he was going with this. But her morning brain was sluggish. It would’ve helped if she’d had a little sleep.

“My real problem with this whole thing is that you lied to me. I knew from almost the time you took the job with Cooper's Life Insurance that something wasn't adding up. I asked you about it repeatedly. And you always lied."

Tessa winced at the pain in his voice. It was obvious she'd really hurt him.

"I can't trust you." His words were soft, but they carried a huge weight that made them sound deafening to Tessa's ears. "Lying is not a great way to start a relationship. In fact, it's pretty much the most horrible way to start one."

He got to his feet and Tessa had to crane her neck to look up at him as he continued, "I'm not going to tell anyone your secret. But I'm also not going to get any deeper into this thing. You've made it clear you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth about things, so I'm out."

Tessa cowered into her blanket. She didn’t know what to do or say. She felt like someone had hit the pause button on her.

Silas started toward the door but then stopped and turned back, pointing at Pepper. "One last thing. I’m in deep water with the owners here. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll have my job. But as of now, the rules are the rules. You're not allowed to have cats in the apartment. You need to get rid of her. Today."

He covered the distance to the door in three long strides, went through, and closed it firmly behind himself while Tessa stared after him.

She groaned and rolled her head back to rest it on the back of the chair for a minute. Then she jerked it up again and looked at Pepper. "See? Even though you think you like him more than you do me, he's no friend of yours. Now you're going to have to move. And there's only one place I can take you."

Tessa threw the blanket aside and got to her feet, the fatigue of her long night setting in, draining the energy out of her body.

But she knew it was more than that. Silas’s words had injured her. He was right—she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him the truth about her job. But somewhere deep inside, she didn't think it was fair for him to expect that of her. After all, she'd just been getting used to the fact that she was a reaper when she and Silas started flirting. How could she be expected to spill such a big thing so fast?

Still, she could understand his feelings about it too. She'd been lied to in relationships before, and it didn't feel good. In fact, it felt downright horrible. Silas was right to stop the relationship before it got any further. It wouldn't be good for either of them to stay together if he had an underlying distrust of her.

She trudged into her room, changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and grabbed Pepper’s cat carrier out of the closet.

When the cat saw the carrier, her eyes grew big, and she got to her feet, ready to leap off the couch and find a nook to hide in. But Tessa had been expecting that and grabbed Pepper before she could jump. She stuffed her, tail first, into the carrier and shut the door. Then, she peered through the grate at her angry feline friend. "Yeah, I don't blame you for not wanting to go," she said. "This is not going to be pleasant.”

Chapter 14

TESSA ENDED UP GOING to the coffee shop before her mother's house. While she told herself she was only doing that because her body was having a strong craving for some hot java after a basically sleepless night, the real reason was she was hoping Cheryl wouldn't be home.

She glanced at her watch. It was 7:15 AM—should be safe now. Her mother usually left the house around seven to get to the office early, while things were still quiet. She was that brand of workaholic—the kind that doesn’t believe they can get real work done during work hours.

After weighing through the options, Tessa was convinced that Cheryl coming home from work and finding Pepper in her house would be better than opening the door to find her daughter standing there with a pet carrier. That thing about permission versus forgiveness.

Surely, Cheryl wouldn't scoop up the cat and throw her outside or something, once she recognized the furry girl had settled in and made herself at home.

Tessa had an idea that maybe the cat could use her old bedroom as her main place to stay. In her mind, she had it all worked out. She’d even practiced a speech to give her mother later—one in which she promised to come over daily to scoop the litter box and feed Pepper herself. "You won't have to do anything, Mom. I'll handle everything," she muttered to herself as she got out of the car and went around to the passenger side to grab the cat carrier.

Sure, it was extremely similar to something she'd said as a middle schooler when she had hoped to talk her mom into getting her a puppy. It hadn’t worked then, but that didn't mean it wouldn't work now. After all, in this case she already had the cat.

And, who knew? Maybe Cheryl was lonely and would welcome the kitty in her life.

Tessa snorted out loud at that. Her mother was so prim and proper, there was almost no chance she'd be interested in having cat fur all over the place.

Tessa straightened her shoulders and headed for the house. She didn't have a choice. Silas had drawn a line in the sand when it came to Pepper, and he'd made it very clear he meant it. Tessa didn't want to antagonize him any further. Cheryl was just going to have to keep the cat, at least for a little while.

When she got to the porch, Tessa set the cat carrier on the step and slid the big orange pot full of dying petunias aside to scoop up the hidden key underneath. She unlocked the front door and left it ajar. After she returned the key and scooched the pot back into place, she grabbed Pepper again, who yowled mournfully, and stepped into the house.

"Shhh," she told the cat. "You're okay. I'll make sure you have a nice, cozy spot. You're going to love it here." She tried to keep her voice upbeat, so the cat would stay calm. But something didn’t quite feel right.

Tessa realized, belatedly, the house wasn't empty. It was almost the exact opposite to how she’d felt at Nathaniel’s home the previous night. Someone was walking around upstairs, and there was a light on in the kitchen.

"Mom?" Tessa called, feeling just a tiny bit uneasy about a potential intruder.

Cheryl appeared at the top of the stairs. "Tessa, what are you doing here?" She glanced at her watch. "It's pretty early for you to be awake."

No kidding.

Rolling her eyes, Tessa set the cat down a little bit behind her, sort of hoping her mother wouldn't notice. "I didn't sleep very well last night. And, um, I have a big favor to ask you."

Cheryl’s forehead wrinkled.

Tessa realized she started too big. Stall. Stall. Stall. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and tied it with a band she'd slipped over her wrist. "Hey, what are you still doing home, anyway? Usually, you've gone to work by this time."

Cheryl leaned to the side and returned to her previous position, now holding the handle of a suitcase. She descended the stairs with it and stopped in front of Tessa. "I'm getting ready to leave. I have . . . a business trip." Her eyes dropped to the floor and then she craned her neck to see around Tessa's shins. "What's that?" she snapped.

"It's Pepper. Silas—my landlord—says I can't keep her anymore. I don't have anywhere else to take her, so I was hoping she could stay with you."

“They let him out?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of a long story.” A story Tessa wasn’t ready to tell.

But Cheryl had already focused her attention on the cat carrier, scowling.

Tessa held up her hands, palms out. "Just for a little while." Of course, she didn't mean that. There was nowhere else she could take Pepper, so the cat was going to have to stay with Cheryl long-term.

"I don't know. Pets aren't really my thing." Cheryl chewed her bottom lip for a second.

Tessa cocked her head, examining her mother. Cheryl had an uncharacteristic expression on her face. It was almost as though she were nervous. That was certainly not an emotion the woman exhibited very often.

Suddenly, Cheryl spun on her heel and marched to the kitchen. "Do you want some breakfast?” she called. “I'm going to scramble an egg real fast.”

Tessa knelt down and peered into the cat carrier. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes," she whispered.

Pepper yowled and glowered back. Tessa could almost hear her say, "Where am I supposed to go? I'm locked in."

She patted the top of the carrier as though she were patting Pepper’s head, smiled, and then followed her mother into the kitchen. "Sure, I'll have an egg. Thanks."

"You don't look good, dear," Cheryl said, eyeing her daughter for a moment before heading to the refrigerator. "What happened last night?"

Tessa sank onto a bar stool and leaned on the counter. "Jake called it an emergency reap, and he explained to me a little bit, but I still don't really understand. I've never heard of such a thing."

Setting the carton of eggs on the counter, Cheryl turned to face Tessa, tipping her head. "Oh, Tessa, there's a lot to this job. Not all of it is something you can put into a manual. Things . . . change sometimes. You know, every life is different. So is every death."

Tessa felt her brow wrinkle as she tried to wrap her brain around what Cheryl had said. "Okay, but I thought all deaths were part of the universe's plan somehow. Shouldn't they be on the schedule, no matter what the cause is?"

Cheryl shook her head, pressing her lips together as she busied herself getting down a bowl and digging a whisk out of the drawer. "Not always. There are certain things—usually suicides, murders, and even some accidents—that aren't on the typical death timeline. They aren't the same as, say, a sickness that runs its course."

Cheryl paused for a moment, staring into space as though trying to figure out how to explain what she wanted to say. Then she began moving again, cracking eggs into the bowl. "It's free will, really. Humans have that, you know. Split-second decisions can be made." She grabbed the whisk and began beating the eggs, sparing a glance for her daughter.

Tessa mulled it over. "Okay," she said slowly. "So, what, some things involve free will and others don't?"

"Basically." Cheryl nodded. "Anything with less than a fifty percent chance of happening isn't reported into the reaper app. Until it becomes more than fifty percent likely. So, for example, someone with a forty-nine percent chance of committing suicide won't be reported until almost the instant it happens. The same goes for some murders."

Tessa drummed her fingers on the countertop. "But I've been involved in murder reaps before, Mom. They were on the app."

"Yes, because there was a greater than a fifty percent chance of them happening. Some murders are more calculated than others. Premeditation. It's really that simple. In fact, the opposite can happen too. Sometimes, we are called to a reap that doesn't end up happening. It's rare, but it does occur. It's happened to me."

Tessa didn't think it sounded simple it all, but it was at least enough of an explanation to get her started. She decided to drop the subject and bring up Pepper again, hoping to catch her mom off-guard. "You know, Pepper may not be the only one who needs somewhere to stay right now. I had a pretty major disagreement with Silas. To be honest, I'd be more comfortable not staying in my apartment right now too. Can we . . . Pepper and I . . . stay with you for a little while? We’ll be quiet and neat, I promise."

Tessa crossed her fingers. If Cheryl said no, she really didn't know where else she was going to go. Maybe Gloria's house?

But Cheryl nodded. "You can stay for a little while. I'll be out of town for the rest of the week, anyway, and it will be nice to have someone housesitting." She poured the scrambled eggs into a pan she'd been warming on the stove and then turned to face Tessa while they cooked. "But you won't be able to stay for very long, I'm afraid."

I don't really want to stay that long anyway. But Tessa didn't say the thought out loud. Instead, she simply said, "Why?"

“There was something I wanted to tell you last night. But I just couldn’t.” Cheryl wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I'm moving, and I'm selling the house. I decided to go to Chicago, so I can be closer to the main Eastern district office."

Finally, she met Tessa's eyes calmly, but Tessa could've sworn she saw a flicker of something there. What was it? If Tessa didn't know better, she would think maybe it was hope—did her mother hope Tessa would ask her not to go to Chicago?

But Tessa rejected that straight away. There was no way Cheryl would be that impractical. If she had decided that moving to Chicago was the best thing to do for her career, then she would follow that path without any concern for how Tessa may feel about it.

"That's, uh, great, Mom. I'm really proud of you for getting that promotion, and I hope you like Chicago. It will be great to come and visit you there. Maybe we can go to the museums together or something. Have some Chicago-style pizza."

Cheryl blinked a few times, and Tessa could've almost convinced herself she saw a flash of disappointment in the other woman's eyes. But she turned back toward the stove before Tessa could be sure. "Thank you, dear." She stirred the eggs and didn't say anything further.

Tessa watched her mother's back and swallowed a lump in her throat. In the space of a day, she’d lost her new boyfriend, possibly her home, and now her mother was moving away. What a rotten day. She could only hope the rest of it got better.

Chapter 15

BY THE TIME TESSA ARRIVED at work, the sleepless night and pile-up of depressing events all weighed down on her like a physical presence. Her feet didn’t seem to want to lift, and she shuffled across the asphalt and up the dilapidated sidewalk to the building.

Even the front door seemed heavy; she had to use both hands to pull it open. The effort resulted in a big yawn that forced her eyes closed and made her stumble to a stop in the lobby.

"Ooh, you look terrible. I hope it's for a fun reason." Gloria leaned on the doorjamb of her new office, appraising Tessa's condition with eyes decorated in rainbow eyeshadow. "How much did you have to drink last night?"

Tessa yawned again, not bothering to cover her mouth. "I didn't drink anything. I just didn't sleep well—or maybe not at all." She met her new boss’s gaze.

A wrinkle appeared between Gloria's finely shaped eyebrows. "Wow, you really don't look good. Come on in here.”

Once Tessa was inside the office with the door closed behind her, Gloria ordered, "Spill."

Tessa plummeted into a chair and then slumped down low enough that she could lean her head back on it. "Silas is free—they let him go because they had someone confess to Mr. Green's murder."

Gloria lowered herself much more gracefully into her own chair and then leaned forward. "That sounds like good news to me! Who confessed?”

"Mr. Green's son-in-law, Nathaniel. There was an emergency reap night—Jake got there before I did, but he said Nathaniel was already dead. There was a suicide note on the desk in front of him, and it said he had killed Artemis."

Gloria leaned back and slapped her thighs. “That’s great! Wait, why don’t you look like you think it’s great news?”

"Well, for one thing, Silas is still mad at me for not telling the truth initially about being a reaper." Tessa raised her hand to keep Gloria from replying. "But mainly, the whole thing with Nathaniel and Mr. Green doesn't sit right with me."

"What do you mean? The guy killed his father-in-law, felt tremendous guilt, and committed suicide. Makes sense to me. I’ve seen a dozen of those true crime shows that end just like this."

"There's just something . . . I don't know. Something isn't right."

"Well, first things first—I wish you and Silas would make up already. I was hoping we could go on a double date this weekend."

Tessa shook her head. “He's super mad at me. He let me know in no uncertain terms that we’re over before we really even got started. He also told me I had to get Pepper out of the apartment. So, she’s at my mom’s—who, by the way, is moving to Chicago. So, yeah, I don’t think a double date this weekend is going to happen."

“Not with an attitude like that, it isn't." At Tessa’s glare, Gloria tipped her head. ""Okay, I’m not saying all that stuff isn’t a lot to deal with,” Gloria admitted. “But let’s start with the Silas thing. You like him, don’t you?"

Tessa scrubbed a hand over her face, trying to encourage her eyes to feel more awake. "Of course I do. But the truth is that he's right. I did lie to him. He has no reason to trust me now, and I don't know how to make that up to him—how to prove that I'm not normally a liar."

"That's easy. Just have a heart-to-heart with him and explain that you didn't really want to lie to him. In fact, it was really hard for you to do it, but you thought you were supposed to. Now that you know you don't have to, everything will be A-OK."

Tessa lifted her shoulder and then let it drop back down again, which wasn't hard because she still felt the heaviness of exhaustion throughout her whole body. "Maybe. I'll think about it. But what about Mr. Green and Nathaniel?"

Gloria pulled out a handheld mirror from a desk drawer, popped it open, and started patting at her hair. "What about them? It's a police matter now. Silas has been let go, so it's really none of your concern anymore."

"Seriously? But if Nathaniel didn't kill Mr. Green—and I really don't think he did, even though I can’t put my finger on why—then there's still a killer running around Mist River. Doesn't that affect us all?"

Gloria snapped the mirror shut and put it away. "We can't get involved in every suspicious thing that happens around here," she said firmly, in her newly developed boss-tone. "Our job is to escort souls across the veil, not to figure out why people died in the first place. You know our taxes pay the police force for that.”

Tessa didn't answer. She just stared at her friend impassively.

Gloria blinked a few times. "I know that look. It's the same one you had in Miami. My impeccable, irrefutable logic isn't going to make a difference because you're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Probably not." Tessa's lips twitched into a smirk. "Sorry. It’s my nature. I was always a curious kid."

"You're not one bit sorry. And I'm your boss now, so you should have more respect for my opinion."

Tessa put a sweet look on her face and fluttered her eyelashes. "I do respect you. I just don't think Mr. Green's killer should go free. Especially when it's likely that he also killed Nathaniel. Who's next?"

“You, if you aren’t careful,” Gloria shot back.

Tessa stared back at Gloria in silence for a moment, shocked.

Finally, her boss leaned forward and touched something sitting on her messy desk. Tessa realized it was a blank badge like the one Gloria had given her.

“I’m not giving up on this,” Tessa said firmly.

"Well, if that's the case, you have everything you need to get to the bottom of it. But you're on your own. I don't want to know any more about it. Capisce?"

Tessa smiled slowly and straightened in her chair. She suddenly felt lighter than she had, the fatigue seeming to scatter to the edges of her mind. Her thoughts sharpened. "Capisce," she repeated.

Chapter 16

TESSA LEFT GLORIA'S office and headed out to Linda, chewing over her next move. She knew exactly what it was—the reading of Mr. Green’s will.

She'd seen the letter on Nathaniel's desk and made note of the date and time, which was in less than an hour at the Green estate. She certainly knew her way there by now. What she didn't know yet was how to get in so she could listen.

She fingered the badge, in its safe spot on the lanyard around her neck and bit her lip. She couldn’t imagine the magical badge would be much help in this situation. It wasn’t like she could use it to convince Mrs. Green and Hannah she belonged there.

She got in the car and sat for a moment, tapping on the steering wheel. It was too bad Corwin Blade had given her the gift of the scythe instead of invisibility. Sure, the scythe had come in handy for her once, but invisibility would be much more useful.

For a moment, she contemplated going back inside and asking Gloria to get into the reading with the invisibility magic, but she quickly decided against it. Gloria had already indicated she didn't want to have anything much to do with this investigation anymore—especially in her capacity as boss. And Tessa didn't want to test the bonds of their friendship as they were navigating this new relationship of boss and underling.

Then she remembered something. Lark's name had been on the list of beneficiaries invited to attend the reading of the will. Tessa glanced at the clock on the dashboard. She'd have to hurry, but maybe she could catch Lark before the chef went into the mansion.

As she drove across town and out toward Mr. Green's neighborhood, Tessa chuckled to herself. It was a good thing Mist River didn't have any budget issues. There were never many cops out issuing speeding tickets, and she'd been doing a lot of fast driving lately.

She was relieved when she pulled into the mouth of Mr. Green's driveway and the gate was open wide. Obviously, since they were expecting people from outside of the estate, the staff had left it unlocked.

She drove up to the house and felt even more victorious when she caught a glimpse of Lark getting out of a beat-up old Pontiac.

Tessa jumped out of Linda and hurried over to the other woman. Lark gave her a quizzical look. "Tessa. What are you doing here?"

"The lawyers at my firm believe it may be in your best interest to have representation in attendance at the reading of the will," Tessa said, doing her best to keep her tone smooth and a businesslike smile in place.

Lark scrunched her nose and then scratched it. "I don't know. Why would I need a lawyer in there now? Maybe after I know what it says."

"Oh, I'm just a paralegal. But I can sort of keep an eye on things for you, you know? If something doesn't seem like it's fair to you, I can report that right to my bosses. Then, if you need to hire them to fight anything in court for you, they’ll be ready."

Tessa held her breath as Lark considered that, shifting her feet a few times and glancing toward the mansion. Her whole body stiffened. Tessa followed her gaze and caught a glimpse of Hannah standing on the porch, staring at them. But when Tessa looked at her, Hannah turned and marched into the house.

"Okay," Lark said suddenly. "Yeah, that's great. Thanks for being here."

Tessa wondered at her sudden change in attitude. Did it have something to do with Hannah? She pushed away the thought, not really caring why Lark had agreed—just glad she had.

They walked together up the stairs and through the front doorway.

Wow.

If Tessa had thought the kitchen was immaculate and grand, going through the front door was absolutely mind-blowing. She’d only ever seen such lavish decor on television. It was almost too much for her to comprehend. Elegance, fashion, and most of all, money was on full display.

Everywhere she looked, there was something that must've come from a fine Italian or French shop. Marble, glass, and brass dominated the space. At the top of an expansive, double-wide staircase with extravagantly carved railings was a gargantuan portrait of Artemis Green that looked hand-painted and must be at least six feet. He appeared serene in a forest green smoking jacket.

"This way, please." A man in a tuxedo and bowler gestured with white-gloved hands for them to head through the doorway he stood in. He was around Tessa’s height but probably twenty pounds thinner, making him look almost not there. "The reading will take place in this room," he intoned, as though it were the most boring thing in the world.

Lark glanced at Tessa and then lurched forward. Tessa trailed behind, trying to see as much as she could while her eyes threatened to mutiny and squeeze shut. It was just too much extravagance to deal with at once.

When they crossed the threshold into the next room, it was only slightly less distracting. The word sitting room leapt to Tessa’s mind as she looked around, but maybe it would've been more appropriately termed a library because book-lined shelves covered two walls. The rest of the room held several scattered seating areas, each apparently designed to provide a cozy spot to read or chat.

Tessa recognized Mrs. Green sitting in a wing-backed, burgundy chair wearing a lap blanket, her cane leaning against the square end table next to her. Hannah stood just behind her mother, resting a delicate hand on the back of the chair. Hannah’s face was impassive, but Tessa caught a glimpse of red-rimmed eyes. She'd either been crying, hadn't gotten much sleep, or both.

There were a few other people in the room who Tessa didn't recognize, but by the way they were dressed and their features, she assumed they were relatives of Mr. Green—maybe nieces and nephews or, perhaps, even some of Hannah and Nathaniel's children.

Tessa followed Lark across the room, where Lark took a seat along the far wall, as though she'd chosen a spot as far away from Mrs. Green as possible. Tessa felt the elderly woman's eyes on them. When she sank onto the sofa next to Lark and looked back at Mrs. Green, she was glaring at them. But she didn't say anything, and behind her, Hannah didn't spare them a glance at all.

The tuxedoed man in the doorway bellowed once again, "This way, please." He spoke toward the front door. "The reading will take place in this room."

A moment later, a woman walked through the door. She was the no-nonsense type, wearing a navy-blue skirt suit and exactly matching pumps. Her hair was swept up into a perfect bun. She wore frameless glasses, and it was impossible to tell her age. She carried a leather suitcase, which she promptly set on an end table, opened, and withdrew papers from.

"My name is Elise Lowen, Mr. Green’s estate attorney. Thank you all for coming." The crisp tone matched her businesslike demeanor and attire. "I know this is a difficult time for all of you, and I appreciate you being here for the reading of Artemis Green’s will. I shall not take up much of your time."

Several of the younger crowd rushed to find seats.

Elise nodded, then glanced around the room, satisfied. "I know this is a bit unorthodox. Wills aren't usually read like this, as they are in the movies. But given the current . . . circumstances, which includes a second death in the family and the health of Mrs. Green,” she inclined her head in apology to the old woman, “this is the most expedient way to proceed.”

Mrs. Green waved a hand. "Yes, yes. I’m old and infirm. Everybody knows it. Have been for thirty years, at least. Get on with it, will you? I'm feeling the need to lie down soon."

Hannah patted her mother's shoulder. "It's okay, Mom. I don't think this will take too long."

Elise didn't react to Mrs. Green’s rudeness. She began to read from the paper in front of her. “According to the last will and testament of Mr. Artemis Green, who was of sound mind and body when he ordered the document drawn up, his daughter Hannah is named executor of the estate."

Hannah nodded slightly, but otherwise, there was no reaction in the room. Apparently, that piece of news wasn’t actually news to anyone.

The lawyer went on reading, "My wife, Mrs. Green, will maintain residence at our estate as long as she is living. She will also maintain her usual stipend from the company." Elise paused and glanced up, as though expecting questions.

Mrs. Green didn't disappoint. "What about the company?" she bellowed. "I suppose I've been named CEO?"

Elise’s eyes dropped back to the paper. "Let me see. There it is. This was a more recent change. The company . . . yes, well I’d like to get back to that in a moment.” She glanced back up and gave Mrs. Green a slightly reproachful look. “I’m not finished talking about the property."

Mrs. Green seemed to struggle, as though she were trying to get to her feet. She blustered and grunted for her to go on.

Hannah firmly but gently pulled her mother back into the chair and then patted her again. "It's okay, Mom. Let her read the rest. What more is there about the property?"

"Well, the deed was solely in Mr. Green's name. After Mrs. Green's death, the property is to pass to Mrs. Hannah Neilson."

Mrs. Green approved, nodding slowly. “And the company?”

Elise Lowen grimaced. There was something there she wasn’t ready to read off, not even now. “Yes. The company. Here it is. The company is to pass to Ms. Lark Jordan.”

Mrs. Green's mouth fell open. Around the room, murmurs went up among the various young people. It was obvious that no one had expected that.

Lark gasped and stiffened. "What?" she breathed out.

The only person besides Tessa who seemed to be taking the news calmly was Hannah. Her face was impassive, and her tone was calm when she said, "And the other assets? Am I to dole them out to Lark, as well?"

Elise nodded once. "Some, not all of them.”

Hannah nodded and drew herself up. "Well, I hate this, but I have no choice. I must contest my father's will.” She finally turned her head toward us, heat rising as splotchy red marks on her cheeks. She pointed at Lark. “Because I know that woman killed my husband."

Lark shot to her feet. "I did not kill Nathaniel or our father! I didn't even want any money or his company."

A rumble of footsteps in the foyer made everyone quiet down and look toward the doorway. As though on cue, several police officers entered the room.

Tessa’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. It was almost as though it was staged, like they’d been waiting in the wings.

The men made a beeline for Lark.

One of the officers, a plump, red-headed man who looked no older than nineteen, squeaked, “You’re under arrest for murder, ma’am. Please put your hands behind your back and turn around slowly.”

“What? No! I didn’t kill anyone. I couldn’t!” Tears streamed down Lark’s face. Then her expression hardened, and she scowled at Hannah. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did it. You always did want to keep everything to yourself.”

Hannah marched over and stood a few feet away from Lark. “You should have left this family alone while you had the chance. But no. You had to stick your nose in where you weren’t wanted. There was no way you could ever have what we have unless you killed to get it.”

“You know that’s not true!”

“Now you’re going to have nothing—less than nothing—just like you deserve.” Hannah looked at the officer, who had finished handcuffing Lark. “Take her out of my home,” she spat before whirling around and stomping back to her mother.

As they began to pull her from the room, Lark cast a panicked glanced over her shoulder at Tessa. "I'm going to need the help from your law firm that you promised me before," she called before disappearing through the doorway.

Tessa winced. Right. The law firm. The very fake law firm.

Chapter 17

TESSA JABBED AT THE screen of her cell phone, sending off a quick SOS text to Gloria that explained what happened to the reading as a vision of Lark’s panicked face floated in her mind. Then, she leaned against Linda's driver-side door.

So much for keeping Gloria out of it. She’d messed up. Badly. First, she’d managed to get Silas into big trouble, and now Lark had been hauled away to jail. Not only that, but Lark also thought she had a connection with real lawyers, and she didn't because Tessa had lied.

What was she thinking? She shouldn't have used that ruse to get into Lark's home to talk to her or to get into the reading of the will.

Tessa had always thought she was a good person. One who told the truth. Before she became a grim reaper, she’d done nothing more than the occasional little white lie here and there. Sometimes, she would tell elderly ladies like Mrs. Cross she liked their hair instead of telling them the style came and went in the Eighties. Tessa considered herself ethical, moral, and decent. But lately, the lies were piling up, and people were getting hurt because of them.

She should have let this whole thing go, just like Gloria said. After Silas was cleared of Mr. Green's murder, she should’ve let the whole matter go. There was no way she could solve this case. She didn't even have a right to try.

Misery seemed to soak into every cell in her body. Remorse and guilt warred with embarrassment in her thoughts.

She checked her phone screen, but Gloria hadn’t answered yet. What was she going to be able to do about it anyway? Tessa had gotten herself and others into this mess—why should her friend need to get involved, wade into the lies and mistakes, and bail her out?

But she had no idea what to do next—or how to fix this.

She heard the mansion’s front door start to open and, on a whim, dashed around the back of Linda, crouching low in the bushes. There were still a few stray cars in the driveway from the reading, so Tessa hoped whoever was coming out wouldn’t recognize her old Buick.

She peered around the car's back fender and saw Hannah coming outside with an officer. They were chatting in low tones, but Tessa couldn't hear what they were saying. She wanted to get closer.

The pair descended the porch steps and then headed around the house, and Tessa scurried forward, mindful of the cameras on the corners of the house. She may not be good at keeping her friends out of trouble, but Tessa had proven to be fairly talented at staying in the shadows. She really wanted to know what Hannah and the detective were talking about.

As they approached the back end of the house, Hannah and the officer continued toward the horse paddock. Tessa put on a burst of speed to get closer, and she could finally hear them.

"That's a big favor I just did for you," the detective said. "We don't really have much evidence against Lark."

Hannah leveled a cool look at her companion. "Well, this gives you time to find it. I told you, and your handwriting expert will verify it, that the note Nathaniel left wasn't written in his handwriting. That signature looked like his but not the rest."

The detective kicked at a stone in his path, and it tumbled up the gravel lane ahead of them. "Assuming you're right, that doesn't mean it was Lark’s handwriting."

Hannah crossed her arms over her chest, as though her sleeves weren't thick enough to keep out the autumn chill. "That's true. But just think about it for a minute. Who else had a motive to murder my father?"

The detective stopped in his tracks and barked out a laugh. "Well, I can think of a few people." His tone was sarcastic as he inclined his head toward Hannah and gave her a pointed look.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!" She kept walking, and the officer lengthened his strides to catch back up with her. "When my father died, I was with my husband, and when Nathaniel died, I was here with my mother. She often needs help during the night, and I don't trust the staff enough to leave her alone with them."

"Did she need you last night?"

"No. Mom took a sleeping pill and slept through the night. She even slept in a little, which isn’t like her. This whole affair is weighing heavily on her."

They walked in silence for a while until they arrived at the fence line. Hannah put her hands on top and stared out into the paddock. Then she made a kissing noise with her mouth, and several horses looked up from where they had been munching. Slowly, they began to make their way over to her.

The officer didn't touch the fence, and he didn't look at the horses. His attention was on Hannah. "What about this Silas St. Onge guy? The one we originally arrested. Where does he come in?"

She shrugged and held out her hand for the first horse who arrived, a chestnut gelding. He whinnied a greeting and then grabbed the carrot out of her hand. "I don't know Silas. Why?"

The officer took half a step away from the fence, as though he were slightly afraid of the horse. He kept an eye on the creature as he spoke. "We believe he may have been planted by someone. You know, to take the fall. He wouldn’t say why he was here that morning, only that he was a fan of Mr. Green and trying to catch a glimpse."

Hannah's head whipped around, and she pinned the officer with a hard look. "You know we’ve had folks like that before.”

"Yeah, well, we've got him under surveillance now. Is that thing dangerous?" He gestured toward the horse.

Hannah laughed. "Of course not. He's as gentle as they come. Would you like to take a ride?"

Tessa crept away, guilt an even more crushing presence than it had been a moment before.

Silas was under surveillance? This was all her fault.

Well, there was one silver lining in what she'd managed to find out. The police knew Nathaniel hadn’t committed suicide.

As she arrived back in the driveway, Tessa's phone buzzed, and she pulled it out to see the text from Gloria: Meet me at the police station. I have a plan.

Chapter 18

WHEN TESSA PULLED UP outside the police station, she thought for a moment that her mom was waiting in front of the building for her. After a second, she realized it was Gloria, dressed in a pantsuit.

Tessa jumped out of Linda and hurried over to Gloria. She gestured toward the outfit. "Not really your style, is it?"

"I borrowed it from Ella. She works for a CPA. Just trust me, all right, and trust our badges to get us through." She headed toward the door, and Tessa followed along, clutching the badge on her lanyard.

They approached the front desk inside the police station, which was behind a layer of bulletproof glass. Gloria rapped on it to get the attention of the desk sergeant, whose back was turned as he stood waiting for a Keurig to finish dripping coffee into a black mug with a Star Trek logo. He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t come toward them until the cup was full. Then he carried it over and slid open a circular piece of glass to talk through. "How can I help you ladies this morning?"

"We represent Lark Jordan, and we’d like to speak with our client alone. Right now. You’ve kept her here long enough without representation." Gloria’s tone was firm.

The officer looked nonplussed. "She had her phone call," he said. "Used it to call her mom. She did say her lawyers should be showing up, though. Hang on, I'll come around." He snapped the hole shut, grabbed his coffee mug, and disappeared out the back of the office. Moments later, he reappeared in the lobby and gestured for them to follow him through the open door.

Gloria and Tessa glanced at each other as they followed the man down a short hallway. Gloria gave Tessa a thumbs-up, and she returned it halfheartedly, wondering how much time one could get in jail for impersonating a lawyer. Probably a lot.

The officer left them in a tiny room that was barely big enough to hold its rectangular table and four rickety wooden chairs. After a few moments, he dumped Lark into the room as well. Gesturing toward a panel on the wall, he said, "I'm going to lock the door. When you're done, use the intercom to call, and I'll be here to let you out."

After he was gone, Gloria stuck out her hand to Lark. "I'm Blanche Stewart. We need to have a little talk and get some facts straight about your case."

Lark's eyes flitted over to Tessa, and she wrung her hands. "Okay," she said in a small voice.

Tessa noticed Gloria didn't specifically tell Lark she was a lawyer, and she hadn’t used the word with the desk sergeant either.

Lark sat down across from the two non-lawyers. Gloria leaned back in her chair. "I assume you're going to tell me you didn't kill Artemis Green or Nathaniel Neilson," she said.

"That's exactly what I'm going to tell you because it’s true. There's no way I would've killed my dad. He and I had a great relationship."

"Okay, Tessa tells me that you worked for Mr. Green and that he knew you were his daughter. Have we got it right so far?"

Lark nodded. "My mom worked for the Greens first, for many years. She'd take me to work with her, so I could see my dad. I also played with my half-sister, Hannah, all the time. It was really neat—I sort of got to grow up with her, even though she didn't know we were truly sisters." A troubled look flitted over her eyes.

Gloria leaned in closer. “I feel like you’re holding something back.”

Lark winced. "I did try to tell her one time—"

"Really? How did that go?" Gloria shifted in her chair, clearly interested in this answer.

"She was angry. Called me a liar. From that moment on, she hated me. I completely ruined our relationship when I tried to tell her the truth." Lark sniffed as though trying to hold back tears. "I guess it must've come as a big shock to her after Dad died, to find out I was really telling the truth."

Tessa’s mind raced at this new information. Hannah hated Lark, but she’d known the closely guarded secret. The puzzle pieces fell together. Hannah must've found out that Artemis had changed his will and knew the only way to keep her full inheritance was to frame Lark for the murder, so she would be disallowed from receiving the business. But Silas being there and getting arrested had put a wrench into her plans.

It all made sense except for one thing—would she really have killed Nathaniel too? Why would she have done that?

Gloria and Lark were still talking, but Tessa wasn't listening anymore. She chewed over the problem in her mind. Had Nathaniel actually killed Mr. Green and then Hannah killed him to keep the secret? She supposed that made sense. Hannah was his wife, so she would've had the best access to him that night, plus it would be easy for her to say that the handwriting on the suicide note wasn't his.

It was hard for her to believe someone would kill their own father and husband, but she remembered Hannah's impassive, non-emotional face at the reading of the will, and a chill went up her spine.

"I guess I'm going to miss my dad's funeral this afternoon," Lark lamented, and Tessa’s attention snapped back to her.

"Where is it?"

Lark shrugged. "Where else? At the estate. Mrs. Green doesn't go out—hasn't for a long time. He's being buried in the private cemetery on the grounds."

“What time is the funeral?”

“Two,” Lark answered.

Tessa checked her watch—it was 12:30. She’d have to hurry.

She cut her eyes to Gloria, and her friend nodded. "You go. I'll handle things here."

Tessa jumped to her feet and crossed the room to hit the intercom button as Gloria and Lark continue to speak softly. She waited impatiently for the officer to come let her out. It seemed like forever. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet and checked her watch every ten seconds. Finally, he appeared.

It took her a moment to explain to him that Gloria was staying but that she was ready to go. He finally let her out into the hallway and then relocked the door.

Tessa followed him back out to the lobby, but as he was opening the door, the handle flew out of his hand. A man on the other side had opened it at the same time. Tessa recognized him as the detective who had been afraid of the horses at the Green estate.

Recognition lit up his face as well. "You were at the will reading with Lark Jordan. Oh, you must be her representation.”

At least the guy was observant, like a detective should be.

"My firm is," she corrected. "I'm just a paralegal."

He nodded and looked strangely pleased to find out she wasn't a lawyer. "I'm still working on that investigation," he said. "Just trying to figure out the truth here."

"Good," Tessa said. "I'd hate to think the detectives on the case were just taking everything at face value."

"You got something to tell me?" he asked, studying her closely.

She shook her head. "Not yet, anyway."

He pulled out a billfold from his back pocket and scrounged around in it for a minute before producing a business card, which he handed to her. "Well, if that changes, give me a call right away." He shook his head and looked thoughtful. "Nathaniel Neilson had a strange cocktail of drugs in his system," he said.

Tessa tipped her head. "Really? Like what?"

He shrugged. "Sleeping pills, for sure. There was some other stuff there too—not the common stuff like street drugs or Tylenol or something. The crime lab had to send a blood sample to a private lab with the capability of doing more detailed testing. We’re still waiting on the report to find out exactly what the other substances were."

Now that was interesting. Tessa zoned out for a minute, trying to figure out what that meant.

Then she checked her watch again. “Oops. Gotta go.” She held up the business card. “Thanks for this.” Halfway across the lobby, she turned to find him still standing there, watching her. “Keep your phone close this afternoon, okay?

Chapter 19

TESSA JOGGED ACROSS the parking lot of Mist River Manor. Another glance at her watch told her she only had about forty-five minutes to get to the funeral in time, and she needed to change clothes. When the building's front door opened, she had a premonition of who would be coming through it, but she hoped to be wrong. She didn't have the time or inclination to deal with him at that moment.

But she was going to have to. It was Silas.

She'd always heard of people having long faces when they were sad or upset about something, but she never actually fully understood what it meant until seeing Silas in that moment. It was as though gravity was pulling on his facial features harder than it normally did. Like he was in a bubble that applied two G’s instead of the regular one.

Tessa came to a stop. There was no way she could get past him and into the apartment building without acknowledging his existence because he was staring right at her. "Hi," she said. "Is everything okay?"

She knew it wasn’t. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she’d played some hand in it. She was a one-woman wrecking ball.

Silas shook his head and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "Nope. I got booted out of my job today." He shook his head and looked at the ground. "I've worked hard here for years. One mistake and I get let go. I still can't believe it."

Tessa drew herself up, feeling shocked and scandalized on his behalf. "That's not fair!”

He shrugged, and at the end of it, his shoulders slumped even lower than they did before. "Yeah, well, life's not fair, is it?"

Tessa winced. "Silas, I'm so sorry. About everything. You were totally right—I should've trusted you with my secret. Then you wouldn’t have needed to follow me to Artemis Green’s house. This is all on me."

His eyes bounced up, and his gaze met hers. His features softened. "No, I get it now. It's a big secret, and I came on too strong. I never should've expected you to reveal something like that to me when we were just getting to know each other. I should’ve focused on the romance.”

She smiled. “I wish you would’ve.”

He pulled one hand out of its pocket and pushed a flop of hair out of his eyes. “I don't know what gets into me sometimes. I can just be so—" He paused, as though trying to figure out the right word, and then unexpectedly burst into laughter. "Well, my mom would've said bull-headed. I guess that's pretty close to right. I am a Taurus, after all."

Tessa was relieved to see him smiling. Her eyes moved toward the door behind Silas.

His gaze followed. “Where are you off to? Pepper need some food?”

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about you having a cat anymore. Get a whole litter for all I care. In fact, you should. Give the owner’s new landlord hire a run for their money.”

Tessa shook her head. “No. I took Pepper to my mom’s house. But I do have to get going. I’m in a rush right now.” Another glance at her watch made her suck in a breath and take a step around Silas.

“Oh. I see. Something for . . . you know what?” He leaned closer and whispered, “The reaper stuff?”

“Sorta.”

He held up a hand. “Fair enough. I’m not going to be sticking my nose in where it’s not wanted in that area ever again.” He reached over and brushed a piece of hair off her cheek.

The touch sent a jolt through her, and Tessa’s heartrate picked up.

Silas stuffed the hand back into his pocket, as though trying to keep it from doing something he didn’t want it to. “Romance,” he said. “I’m sticking with romance. Would you be interested in going out to dinner with me again? Clean slate. No reaper talk.”

“Seriously?”

A line appeared between his brows. “I understand if you don’t want to. I was an idiot, and it would serve me right if you told me to get lost and stop bothering you. If you do, I’ll disappear, and you won’t have to worry about me again.”

She couldn’t stop a huge smile from spreading across her face.

But Silas didn’t see it because he was staring at the ground again. “Actually, never mind. Forget I asked. You don’t need to answer . . .”

Tessa put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Silas!”

He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Yeah?”

“I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Text me later, and we’ll figure out a time. I have to get going right now.”

Tessa’s mind had already jumped ahead to her apartment, thinking about the black dress in the back of the closet that she’d change into. Not only was it funeral-appropriate, but it was also good for keeping to the shadows.

“Great. I’ll do that,” Silas said as she gave him one last wave on the way into the building.

Tessa dug through her purse for the apartment keys as she hurried across the lobby, trying to figure out which shoes to wear with the dress.

When she got to the door, there was a Post-It note stuck over the peep hole.

Weird.

She yanked it down, barely registering the words that told her a package too big for her mailbox was being held at the front desk. The handwriting wasn’t Silas’s, like it normally would be. It was a different person’s scrawl, and something about it jolted a thought loose in her brain.

She paused with the key in the door, staring at the Post-It.

“Well, I’ll be . . .” she whispered.

She stuffed the Post-It into her purse and then made sure Detective Taggert’s card was safe and in an accessible spot. If her new thought panned out, she’d be needing to use his number soon.

Then, she exploded into her apartment, even more eager than before to change and get to Artemis Green’s funeral.

Chapter 20

THERE WERE A LOT OF people at the funeral. Like, a lot. Tessa had barely made it in time, as the tuxedoed, bowler-hatted butler let her know in no uncertain terms as he led her to a large room on the second floor of the mansion and dropped her off with a final judgmental sniff.

Regardless of the attitude the butler had thrown her, there was still a crowd of people filtering slowly through the door, so she wasn’t unforgivably late. Still, her mother wouldn’t have approved.

Tessa got on her tiptoes to peek into the room. The funeral was being held in a ballroom with burgundy and silver carpet, high ceilings, and an elaborate chandelier that definitely looked like it had come from Europe and probably was centuries old. Tessa had to drag her attention away from the surroundings to focus on the people around her. They all spoke in the hushed tones that befit such an event, but she caught snippets of conversation that made it clear Mr. Green had been very well-liked in the community.

Tessa hadn’t moved very far in line when louder voices erupted ahead. She rose on her toes again and caught a glimpse of Hannah in the doorway, arms crossed, barring Sky from entering. “You aren’t welcome here.” Her voice sounded like stones hitting each other. “Please leave.”

She couldn’t hear Sky’s answer, but Tessa decided it was the perfect opportunity. She scooched around people, threading her way through the crowd and through the doorway while everyone else’s attention was on the argument.

Tessa found a chair near the back of the room, hoping she could just blend in with the crowd. She scanned the pamphlet the butler had reluctantly handed her and made a note that the plan was for everyone to accompany the casket to the gravesite after a short service and before returning to the mansion for a catered luncheon. Tessa knew that would be her chance to enact the crazy plan she’d drummed up.

The room quieted as Hannah helped her mother to the front row. Sky had disappeared.

A minister began to speak into a microphone, talking about Mr. Green’s childhood. Tessa caught sight of Mrs. Cross in the second row, just behind Hannah and Mrs. Green. She kept blowing her nose into a bright yellow handkerchief.

Tessa didn’t have a great view of Mrs. Green or her daughter, but when Hannah cast a glare back at Mrs. Cross, it was evident that her eyes were red-rimmed.

Even though she tried to keep her attention on the service, Tessa didn’t hear much of it. Her thoughts kept swirling back to cover bits of information related to the deaths of Artemis and Nathaniel, now that she had a new lens through which to examine them.

Once the service was over and people began to file out of the room, Tessa inserted herself into the center of the crowd and left with them. But when everyone else headed downstairs, she darted upstairs as fast as possible and slipped into the first small, empty room she came across.

It was a small bedroom, but it didn't take long for Tessa to determine it was just for guests. She stuck her head into the hallway, didn't see anyone, and sprinted to the next room. After checking out six or seven rooms that way, Tessa finally arrived at a set of heavy oak double doors carved with birds, flowers, and butterflies, at the end of a hallway.

This has got to be it!

She cracked the door open.

The room was huge, with a four-poster bed covered in elegant fabrics the various colors of a summer sunset. Tessa entered the room and closed the door behind her. She crossed the floor quickly, passing a hand-carved wooden structure that held five or six different canes. That let her know she was in the right place—Mrs. Green's private quarters.

Tessa made a beeline for the huge, delicately carved walnut desk facing a huge window that overlooked the horse pasture. She moved papers around, looking at each one of them carefully but swiftly. But there was nothing there.

She turned in a slow circle, examining the room closely but not sure what she was looking for. Her fingers tapped a beat on the desk as she bit her lip.

Her fingers hit something that felt different from the rest of the desk, and Tessa glanced down, expecting to see a mouse pad or blotter. She frowned. It was a slight divot in the surface of the wood. She probed at it and squeaked when a tiny panel moved under her fingers.

A noise across the room made Tessa spin around. She caught the last bit of movement as a narrow floor-to-ceiling armoire slid aside to reveal an equally narrow doorway.

She glanced back at the panel on the desk. “Cool,” she breathed before hurrying over to the door. Her fingers trembled just a touch as she twisted the knob and prayed it wouldn’t be locked. It gave under her hand. “Yes!”

Tessa cracked open the door and peeked in.

It was a stairwell.

She left the door open because light from the big window splashed in enough that she could see a little. She crept forward, but before she got to the stairs, which led downward, something caught her eye. She pulled out her phone and swiped up, then tapped the flashlight icon. When it came on, she pointed it at the pile of jugs at the top of the stairs.

Bingo.

Tessa snapped several pictures and then pulled out Detective Taggert’s business card. She texted him the pictures and then hurried back through the secret doorway.

For a second, it was too bright in the room, and she stumbled to a halt and blinked several times, trying to adjust.

When her vision cleared, she started, took two steps, and then jerked to a stop again. She sucked in a breath and held up her hands. “Don’t shoot,” she said.

Chapter 21

MRS. GREEN STOOD IN the doorway, straight, without a cane. She looked at least ten or fifteen years younger than she had downstairs during the funeral. She held the gun pointed at Tessa, with no hint of trembling in her arm. A sneer twisted her face. "I saw you that morning, you know," she said. "You were with that boy—that fan of Artemis’s who was arrested and then released."

Tessa felt her eyebrows twitch upward and struggled to keep her expression impassive while her mind swirled around, frantically trying to figure out how to get out of this one. The only thing she could think of at the moment was to draw out the conversation. “You saw me?”

Mrs. Green barked out a short laugh. "Oh, there isn't much the security cameras around this house don't pick up if you know which ones to check, like I do. I used them to keep tabs on my daughter and that Lark when they were younger and, later, my daughter and her good-for-nothing boyfriend, Nathaniel. Oh, yes, I recognized you at the reading of the will, and I knew there was something strange going on. I knew you were after something."

“I'm after the truth," Tessa said flatly.

"I'll tell you the truth," she snapped. "But it isn't pretty. A young lady like you will surely think I'm the monster of the story."

Tessa didn't answer. Even though she didn't want to show weakness, she also knew it was a bad idea to antagonize the woman with the gun.

There was one other way she could end the conversation. She could call on the power of the scythe. But here and now, it didn’t feel right. She wasn’t judge, jury, or executioner—no matter what Silas thought of her career. There had to be some other way of talking sense into Mrs. Green.

The old lady twisted her hips to sidestep the door as she swung it shut behind her. She laughed at Tessa’s widened eyes, misinterpreting the reaction. "I see you're surprised at how well I can get around. The truth is, my condition has improved over the years. I'm feeling much better. Much, much better. My husband spent millions on my rehabilitation, and it did the trick. He just never knew it.”

"Why hide it?" Tessa demanded.

"Ha! Because I wanted my husband to think I was infirm. I needed him to continue to provide for me. If he’d known I wasn’t sick, he would have divorced me. Left me with a measly stipend and a regular house in the suburbs.”

Tessa shook her head. “Why would he do that?”

“Because, over the years, we drifted apart—oh, I knew he had an affair with Sky Jordan. Of course, I knew. Just like I knew the brat of a child she brought around here was his daughter. I saw how he played with her and smiled at her when he didn't think I was watching. The look in his eyes, why, it was the exact same one he gave our own daughter.

“Over the years, I watched that man dangle his mistress and her daughter right in front of my face and Hannah’s too. As though he thought I was stupid. Just a stupid, old, crippled wife that he felt good about taking pity on and keeping around." She sneered again, and it twisted her features into something much darker.

Tessa realized the woman had marinaded in her own spite and anger for decades. How sad. "Do you really think your husband felt that way about you?"

"What would you know about it? You're still young, with your looks about you. You have no idea what it's like to be married for so many years and then get sick—to be unable to go on trips with your husband or host the parties he wants you to.” The corners of her lips plunged downward. “To watch your husband get bored and go elsewhere."

For a second, Tessa felt sorry for her, but somehow, she knew the old woman wouldn’t appreciate sympathy. She pressed her lips together.

Mrs. Green went on, a faraway look in her eyes, as though she’d forgotten Tessa was there. "Oh, he didn't say he was bored. He said he was lonely. Whined that I shut him out when I got sick—that I treated him like a stranger. What a load of ridiculousness. He was just making excuses for his transgressions. But I knew—oh, I knew what they were. I never let on to him that I knew, but I did. And I also knew that he would give some of his fortune to that illegitimate daughter when he died. Some of the wealth that was rightfully my daughter’s."

"So, you killed him because of the changes to his will?"

"I wanted to kill him before he made the changes," she said gruffly. "But the opportunity never presented. When I found out he’d already been to his lawyer, I had to change my plan. Make it look like Lark had done the deed, so she wouldn’t be able to receive the inheritance. I used my hidden stairwell." She waved a hand toward the doorway where I'd found the jugs of cleaner already. "Way back in the day, before Artemis had this place basically rebuilt from the ground up, that was a servant's stairway. It was a way for the kitchen staff to bring food and drink directly to the master room—quicker than going through the rest of the house, so they could attend to the needs of their employers efficiently. Over the years, everyone forgot it was there except for me. But then you and that fan boy had to go and screw everything up. It delayed Lark's arrest."

Tessa gave her that. Silas’s bout of espionage had put a wrench in a lot of things. But it didn’t explain everything. She squinted at Mrs. Green. "Why did you kill Nathaniel, then?"

"Well, once I had my way, Hannah was to inherit everything. But she would have let that worthless son-in-law of mine take control of things. She was never a leader. Not like I was in my youth. That was before my ailment.

“No. Hannah always preferred to defer to her husband. And he would've driven our business and her fortune into the ground. I never did like him, and neither did Artemis. It was one of the few things we agreed on during the last twenty years of our marriage. Is that enough truth for you, girl?" Mrs. Green took several steps forward, re-aiming the gun to make sure it was centered on Tessa's chest. The floor squeaked under her feet.

Desperately, Tessa tried to figure out how to keep the woman talking. "You don't really want to do this." She put a note of pleading into her tone that she hoped would draw Mrs. Green's attention.

In her purse, though she had turned the phone down as low as it would go, she recognized the annoying buzz of the emergency reap alert. Her heart rate skyrocketed. Was the emergency reap for her? Which one of the agency’s reapers would come to help her cross the veil?

Mrs. Green put a sweet smile on her face. "Oh, you’re trespassing. I'm well within my rights to shoot you. I'll simply tell them you were up here trying to steal jewelry, and when I walked in on you, you attacked me."

The floor squeaked again.

But Mrs. Green hadn’t moved. Confusion crossed her face, and she turned to look over her shoulder.

Tessa surged forward, crouching low in case Mrs. Green pulled the trigger. She crashed into the old woman’s knees, and they both went down. The gun flew out of Mrs. Green’s hand. Her knee came up, nailing Tessa in the solar plexus. She wasn’t kidding about her rehabilitation.

Tessa gasped for air, folding into a fetal position. Mrs. Green inched across the floor toward the gun.

Fighting through the pain and lack of oxygen, Tessa wrenched herself around. She had to get to the gun before Mrs. Green if she wanted to live.

But as they both reached for the weapon, Tessa knew she was too late. Mrs. Green was an inch closer.

Just before the elderly woman’s wrinkled hand could close on the pistol’s handle, the gun moved on its own, away from her grasp.

Tessa craned her neck to watch the gun float from the floor up into the air. Mrs. Green gaped like a fish trying to get oxygen out of the air on a boat deck. “What? Who? What?” she sputtered.

But Tessa knew exactly who was in that invisible space. Gloria didn’t address Mrs. Green. Instead, her words were meant for Tessa. “I guess I was the closest reaper around when the emergency reap alert went off. I was meant to take you across the veil. But that would have been a lot of paperwork, and I’m just getting started in management, so I thought I’d buy you some time until the cavalry arrives instead.”

As though on cue, the soft sound of sirens floated through the air. Gloria helped Tessa to her feet. The invisible reaper and the gun headed down the hidden stairwell.

Mrs. Green pushed herself to a sitting position. She was back to looking old and frail, her expensive clothes rumpled and her hair wisping loose from its braid. “I hope you don’t think you’re done with me,” she hissed at Tessa.

“Oh, I don’t,” Tessa answered. “Somehow, I’m positive you and I will be crossing paths again soon. Very soon. But I’ll probably be working in my official capacity when that happens.”

Chapter 22

SILAS HELPED TESSA out of his pick-up truck with a strong, warm hand, and they crossed the parking lot together. “I’ve been wanting to try this place,” he said. “Good call on the restaurant choice.”

Tessa could almost taste the pad thai already. “I hope they have good spring rolls. That’s how I judge Thai restaurants.”

Gloria waited by the place’s front door, arm-in-arm with another woman. Gloria wore spiked heels that sent her soaring over everyone but Silas, and that was close.

Tessa admired Gloria’s miniskirt and embroidered pink shirt. “Much better than the pant suit.” She grinned.

Gloria rolled her eyes. “I’ll take that as a thank you for being the best boss ever and saving your behind more than once.” She winked. “This is Ella.”

Tessa beamed at the blonde, who wore her hair in two braids and sported huge round glasses. They shook hands, and Tessa could already feel a kinship. She threw an arm around Ella and headed into the restaurant. “So, tell me. What’s it like to date Gloria? She’s super bossy, right?”

Unfortunately, Ella wouldn’t give Tessa any good dirt. She merely smiled and kept repeating that Gloria was lovely and had no bad habits.

Once they had their drinks and had ordered food, Gloria regarded Tessa. “I heard the cops found footage of Mrs. Green leaving the house the night Nathaniel died.”

Tessa took a sip of ice water and nodded. “I had to give Detective Taggert a nudge on that one, but they found it eventually. She took the golf cart Mr. Green had used to get around the property, heading in the direction of Hannah and Nathaniel’s house. Between that and the cleaner in her secret passageway, there’s enough to charge her.”

“Great instincts, finding that hidden stairwell and that stuff,” Gloria said. “How’d you know to look for it?”

Heat burned Tessa’s cheeks. “I didn’t. I was actually looking for some evidence that Mrs. Green had practiced Nathaniel’s handwriting. When I saw a Post-It note on my apartment door, written by someone other than Silas, who usually writes them, I remembered Hannah saying the suicide note wasn’t in her husband’s handwriting. Then, I remembered something Mrs. Cross told me about Mrs. Green—that after she got sick, she spent a lot of time inside practicing calligraphy. That’s when I realized she must have killed Nathaniel.”

Gloria held up her glass for Tessa to clink. “Well, cheers. Glad that’s over. As your new boss, I’d like to request that you stay out of any future murder investigations, okay?”

“Okay.” Mentally, Tessa was crossing her fingers behind her back. Physically, her fingers were laced with Silas’s.

“I really do want to avoid extra paperwork.” Gloria pursed her lips. “Besides, I’m going to have to focus on finding and training a new reaper to take my place. That should be fun.”

“How does one find a new reaper?” Tessa wondered aloud. She made a mental note that Ella knew their real job. She wasn’t surprised, after the way Gloria had encouraged her to be truthful with Silas about it. “I think my mom chose me just because I was desperate for a job and she didn’t want me to move in with her.”

Everyone laughed. The smile stayed on Gloria’s lips as she answered. “Well, there are a lot of ways to go about it. But, generally, if there is someone around who already knows about reapers and has proven themselves to have good values and a stellar work ethic, that’s where we start.” Her gaze slid over to land on Silas.

Shock coursed through Tessa, making her feel weak for a second. She set the water glass down.

But Silas didn’t look surprised. He just gazed back at Tessa, calm as could be.

“Wait, you already offered him the job?” Tessa asked.

“Yep.”

Tessa’s head whipped around to Silas. “And you said yes?”

He held out his hands. “I’m kind of in a tight spot,” he said. “I’ve already been looking for maintenance jobs, but the pickings are pretty slim.” He shrugged. “If you don’t want me to accept, I understand.”

Tessa drew in a breath and thought about it for a minute. Was it a good idea to mix romance and work?

Probably not.

But Silas’s expression, even though it was obvious he was trying to keep it blank, held a hint of pleading. He really wanted to do it. Who was she to block him from being a reaper?

“Congratulations!” She squeezed his hand. “You’ll be an awesome reaper.”

Relief skipped over his features. “I hope so.”

“Aw! How sweet,” Ella sighed and leaned into her girlfriend.

“Yeah. Lovebirds who get to be co-workers too.” She put on a fake stern expression and pointed at Tessa and Silas. “I expect you to be professional and get along. Souls come first,” she chided.

Tessa nodded along with Silas. Yeah. They could make it work. It was going to fine. Maybe even fun.

She pushed away thoughts of working with Frank and how not well that had gone. Silas wasn’t Frank. He was everything Frank wasn’t. Someone she wanted to take home.

Everything would be okay.

***

THE NEXT MONDAY, TESSA made it a point to get to work early. It was Silas’s first day on the job, and she wanted to be there before him.

She was surprised to see her mother in the lobby when she walked in. “Oh. Hi. What are you doing here?”

Cheryl gestured to a cardboard box on the floor next to her. “Just grabbing the last of my things.” She glanced at her watch. “You’re here early.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf,” Tessa said. “I’m nose-to-the-grindstone girl now.”

Cheryl smirked. “Big plans. Good luck with that.” She tapped perfect red nails on the reception desk. “You’re doing a good job, you know,” she said finally. “I’m proud of you.”

Woah. “Thanks, Mom.” There was more she wanted to say, but the words didn’t want to come. There hadn’t been many times in Tessa’s life when Cheryl had verbalized her feelings so clearly. It felt . . . good.

But the moment was over quickly. Cheryl turned away, flipping through some papers on the desk. “I did do a little something for you. Consider it a gift before I go.”

“Really? What’d you do?”

Cheryl glanced at Tessa and then away again. “I used the reaper secret Mr. Blade gave me years ago to smooth things over for you and Silas.”

Excitement spiked in Tessa’s chest. Cheryl had alluded to the fact that she’d been given a gift from the Grim Reaper but refused to say what it was. “What does that mean?”

“I cleared your and Silas’s involvement in the murder case from the minds of the officers and those involved.”

Tessa’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You can wipe people’s memories?”

Cheryl grinned. “Yes.”

“Wow. That’s so cool.” Tessa mulled it over for a minute, considering how that gift could really come in handy for a reaper agency. Then a thought occurred to her, and her eyes widened. “Wait, did you ever use that on me?”

Cheryl’s eyebrows twitched upward a fraction, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “I considered letting Mrs. Green remember what she heard and saw but that would likely have landed her in a psych ward. I’d rather see her in jail for murdering two people, so I wiped her memory too.”

“Mom . . .” Tessa’s tone was suspicious.

“What?” Cheryl wore an innocent look. “Wouldn’t you like to thank me? I couldn’t have our new reaper starting out in hot water with the local police department.”

Tessa heard a car door close. A glance outside revealed that Silas was on his way inside.

Cheryl finally pushed away the papers and faced her daughter. “And the only hot water you’re in now, Theresa, is with me.”

“What? Why am I in trouble with you?” Tessa wondered if Pepper had done something destructive in the house. Of course, she was going to have to find somewhere else to live soon because it was already up for sale, and Tessa couldn’t have Pepper at the apartment anymore. Silas was looking for a new place too.

“Because you haven’t bothered to introduce me to your new boyfriend,” Cheryl said with a smile.

Tessa barked out a laugh as Silas came through the door. He looked handsome and ready to tackle his new life. “Well, let’s fix that, shall we?”

Also By Christine Zane Thomas

WITCHING HOUR STARRING 40 year old witch Constance Campbell

Book 1: Midlife Curses

Book 2: Never Been Hexed

Book 3: Must Love Charms

Book 4: You’ve Got Spells

Tessa Randolph Cozy Mysteries written with Paula Lester

Grim and Bear It

The Scythe’s Secrets

Reap What She Sows

Foodie File Mysteries starring Allie Treadwell

The Salty Taste of Murder

A Choice Cocktail of Death

A Juicy Morsel of Jealousy

The Bitter Bite of Betrayal

Comics and Coffee Case Files starring Kirby Jackson and Gambit

Book 1: Marvels, Mochas, and Murder

Book 2: Lattes and Lies

Book 3: Cold Brew Catastrophe

Book 4: Decaf Deceit

About Christine Zane Thomas

CHRISTINE ZANE THOMAS is the pen name of a husband and wife team. A shared love of mystery and sleuths spurred the creation of their own mysterious writer alter-ego.

While not writing, they can be found in northwest Florida with their two children, their dachshund Queenie, and schnauzer Tinker Bell. When not at home, their love of food takes them all around the South. Sometimes they sprinkle in a trip to Disney World. Food and Wine is their favorite season.

About Paula Lester

Sign up for Paula’s newsletter to receive information on book releases, other fun information, book recommendations, promos, and more.

You can also join Paula’s Facebook page and follow her on Twitter, BookBub, and Amazon.

***

See all works by Paula Lester

***

Beachside Books Magical Cozy Mysteries

(Co-Authored with Lisa B. Thomas)

Pasta, Pirates and Poison

Apples, Actors and Axes

Grits, Gamblers and Grudges

Candy, Carpenters and Candlesticks

Meatballs, Mistletoe and Murder

Honey, Hearts and Homicide

***

Crystal Springs Cozy Witch Mysteries

(Co-Authored with M.E. Harmon)

A Witch Too Late

Dead Witch Talking (novella)

A Witch Too Hot

A Witch Too Bright

A Witch Too Dead

A Witch Too Frozen

A Witch Too Soon

***

Cruise Ship Cozy Mysteries

(Co-Authored with M.E. Harmon)

Cruising for a Bruising

Angling for a Strangling

Yearning for a Burning

***

Tessa Randolph Grim Reaper Cozy Mysteries

(Co-Authored with Christine Zane Thomas)

Grim and Bear It

The Scythe’s Secrets

Reap What She Sows

***

Sunnyside Retired Witches Community Mysteries

Ghostly Trails (prequel novella)

A Bottle Full of Djinn

Loony Town

Mummy Issues

Clairvoyant Clues

Boss Blues

Engine Repairs

Wedding Whack

***

Sunnyside Magical Bakery Cozy Mysteries

Sugar Skulls and Suspects

***

Superior Bay Witch Doctor Mysteries

Witch Doggone Killer?

The Affairs of Witches

Witch Way Out? (Coming Soon)

Paranormal Posterity Series: Paranormal Women’s Fiction Cozy Mysteries

Plucked