Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries) (13 page)

I made a hell of a thud when I hit the floor.

"
I should lay off the pizza,"
I thought as the world fuzzed grey.

"
What was that?" Buck asked.

I couldn
't answer him. I couldn't breathe, let alone form words.

"
Vic? Victoria?" I heard someone yelling from a distance, and then there was a thundering, like a stampede coming toward me. I wanted to roll out of its way, but I couldn't move.

"
What's happening?" This time Buck was panicked.

The grey fuzzies lightened a bit
, and the world came back into shadowy focus. I could see Buck, arms outstretched fumbling around. Thankfully Martin was nowhere to be seen. I started to shiver uncontrollably.

I probably looked like I was having some sort of seizure by the time Smoke reached me. Dropping to his knees, he knelt over me so that he could look at my eyes through my goggles.

"Victoria? Victoria can you hear me?"

"
I…I'm okay," I told him breathlessly through teeth chattering like falling dominoes.

No wonder he gave me a dubious look.

I waved him away. "No…(clickety-click-click-click)…really."

He rocked back onto his heels.
"You yelled something, and then I heard a humongous crash."

I
really
needed to stop eating so much pizza.

I managed to sit up just in time to watch Buck stumble through a wall.

"Let's get you out of here." Before I grasped what was happening, Smoke was behind me, hooking his arms under my armpits and hauling me to my feet. I was still shivering and would have fallen if he hadn't looped an arm around my waist.

"
What happened?" Smoke asked.

I couldn
't very well tell him that a ghost had charged right through me and knocked me on my pizza-heavy ass. "I…I saw a spider."

"
Hello?" A disembodied voice floated up the stairs.

It wasn
't Buck. Maybe it was the other frat boy Donny.

"
Hello?" There it was again.

"
Just a sec!" Smoke shouted.

Since he was standing about an inch away from my ear, I instinctively ducked away. Spinning around I stared at him in amazement.
"You can hear that?"

I
'd never known anyone else who could hear ghosts.

"
Someone's at the door," Smoke bounded away, calling over his shoulder. "Stay here." He rushed down the steps.

Sighing my disappointment that all he could hear were the living, I slowly followed him. Holding onto the railing with both hands I shuffled downstairs like an octogenarian on oxygen. By the time I reached the bottom of the flight, he had the door open and was talking to a real, live man. Smoke stood in a way that effectively denied our visitor entrance and me the chance to see who was there.

"I'm Buck's brother, Sal Hopkins. I was told you'd be expecting me."

Smoke twisted his head in my direction
, looking for confirmation.

I nodded.
"Of course, Mr. Hopkins. Detective Reed mentioned you'd be stopping by."

Smoke stepped to the side a bit
, so that I could join him in the doorway, but still didn't allow the sibling of the deceased entrance. I was grateful. There's nothing worse than having a family member witness the gruesome details of their loved one's violent death.

"
Why don't we talk outside?" I suggested, taking a step forward.

Sal
Hopkins tried to peer over my head as he stepped back to allow me onto the stoop. Smoke followed closely behind and closed the door. I propped my goggles on top of my head so that I had a clearer view of Buck's brother.

He was considerably older than Buck, closer to forty than thirty, with a thick scar that snaked from his ear to his chin.

"My condolences on your loss, Mr. Hopkins. What can I do for you?" I used my most professionally caring voice despite the fact I desperately wanted him to go away so that we could finish the job and get away from murderous Martin as quickly as possible.

"
I'd like my brother's things."

"
Was there something specific…?" It wasn't unusual for a surviving family member to request a specific object; a piece of jewelry, a framed photograph, a favorite shirt.

"
All of it," Sal Hopkins said.

"
Well…" I hated these conversations. Saying one wrong word could send the requestor into a full-on breakdown, leaving me to pat them on the shoulder and spout useless platitudes. "Well, the police have some of it, but if there's something special you want, I'd be happy to look for it."

"
I want everything that belonged to him."

"
I'm sorry Mr. Hopkins, but that's just not possible."

"
The detective said—"

"
The detective was misinformed," Smoke interrupted.

Sal
Hopkins frowned at him, his hands curling into fists.

I imagined my employee and the bereaved getting into a fight on the stoop. I was pretty sure that didn
't meet the criteria of "compassion" that Jerry had always stressed was such an important part of the business.

"
Some things are…beyond repair," I said quickly, praying Hopkins wouldn't ask for specifics.

"
What the hell does that mean?"

I sucked in a breath and counted to ten before explaining as gently as I could,
"I'm sorry. There was quite a bit of blood. It destroyed a number of items. But if there's something in particular you're looking for…"

"
I'll look for it myself." Sal Hopkins straight-armed me and pushed me aside. I stumbled backward, twisting my ankle and teetering precariously against the railing.

"
Bad idea, pal." Smoke grabbed my arm to ensure I wouldn't topple over. His grip was hard and strong, and I suspected it would leave a bruise. "Apologize to the lady."

"
Screw you." Sal's nostril's flared and he stamped his foot like an angry bull.

He scared me.

Smoke though, wasn't the slightest bit intimidated. Making sure to keep me behind him, he stepped right into the other man's personal space to stare him down. I didn't think Hopkins would yield, and I was pretty sure Smoke wouldn't either. I swallowed hard remembering that he'd left the police force after being accused of using excessive force. I held my breath, unsure of what to do. The seconds were endless. I wasn't sure whether I should try to get out of the way of swinging fists or try to save the business. I was pretty sure that the two men glaring at one another had forgotten I was even there.

I cleared my throat.
"I'm sorry Detective Reed misinformed you, Mr. Hopkins, but we can't allow you inside. It would be considered trespassing. As I said, I'd be happy to look for—"

Sal
Hopkins muttered something under his breath in a language I didn't understand before turning around and stalking away without another word to us.

Once he was out of earshot, I said,
"That went well."

"
Reed is an ass." Smoke turned around and went back inside to work.

I would have gone back inside too, but suddenly Donald
"Donny" McGrath, the third ghost, appeared beside me. Blind Buck had been shot through the head from front to back. Donny had been shot side to side, which meant he could see me and talk, but couldn't hear me.

"
Buck is trying to find the lady who talks to him. Are you her?" he shouted, reminding me of my neighbor Mr. Frazier, who refused to put in his hearing aids, despite the desperate pleading of his wife.

Raising a finger to lips to shush him, I glanced in the direction Smoke had disappeared. I couldn
't very well have him see me talking to a ghost. I motioned for Donny to follow me to the van.

I opened the door and climbed into the driver
's seat. In order to hover above the passenger seat, Donny climbed right through me, which caused me to shiver, but it wasn't nearly as bad as when Martin had done it.

"
You guys have got to stop doing that," I muttered.

  Reaching right through Donny
's knees to open the glove box, I pulled out a notebook, a pen, and my emergency stash of black licorice jelly beans. Thankfully the fall days were cool which meant they weren't all stuck together like a giant lump of candy coal. With the day I was having, I needed to fortify myself with sugar. I shoved a handful of candy into my mouth before starting to scribble on the pad.

You
're Donny, right?
I wrote.

He nodded.

Do you know where Buck is?

"
He keeps wandering off," Donny boomed.

I winced, but didn
't bother trying to tell him to be quieter, I just wrote another question.
Do you know where Martin is?

"
The last I saw him he was pacing in the dining room. He seems pissed," Donny yelled.

That
's my fault
, I wrote. I
told Buck that Martin killed him…killed both of you and
—

"
No he didn't," Donny shouted.

"
He didn't?" I asked aloud.

The deaf kid stared at me blankly.

He didn't?
I scribbled.

"
No."

You
're sure?
I scrawled.

"
Positive."

But he got mad
, and he knocked me over,
I wrote hastily.

"
I'm sure he didn't mean it." Donny's voice echoed off the van's windows. "Wouldn't you be mad if someone accused you of being a murderer?"

The kid had a point.
"Do you know who killed you?" Like an idiot, I forgot to write it down, so he just held out his hands, palms up, and shrugged.

I wrote the question down.

"Nope!"

I sighed,
a niggling suspicion taking hold that helping these three ghosts move on might be too much for me. This necessitated another mouthful of jelly bean.

"
Who'd want to kill us?" Donny wailed. "We have our whole future ahead of us…had our whole future." His eyes filled with ghostly tears. He buried his head in his hands.

I wanted to pat his shoulder to offer him some comfort, but obviously that wouldn
't work, so I just said, "I'm so sorry this happened to you, Donny."

Of course he didn
't hear me so it was even less effective than I'd hoped. "It's not fair," he sobbed.

I wrote a quick note and shoved it in front of his face.
I'm so sorry.

"
Thanks," he sniffled.

Is there something I can do for you?
I wrote.

"
Like what?"

I want to help you move on. Do you have any unfinished business you want me to help you with?
My hand was getting tired.

He thought about that for a second.
"Well, there is one thing…"

I nodded my encouragement.

"I—"

Two quick raps on the window beside my head startled us both. I practically jumped out of my seat
, and Donny disappeared. I turned to find Smoke standing beside the van. He was eyeing me suspiciously. Of course if I'd walked up on someone nodding for no apparent reason, I'd probably be a bit cautious about approaching them too.

"
Are you okay?" His voice was muffled by the glass.

I opened the door.

"I'm fine." It came out a garbled mess because my mouth was still full of sticky black candies.

"
You don't look fine. I figured I should check on you after your fall."

I chewed and swallowed.
"You startled me, that's all."

"
Is there a reason you're hiding out in the van?"

"
I'm not hiding. I'm taking a break. Assuming that's okay with you?"

He held up his hands defensively.
"It's fine with me. It's just that you got spooked by a spider, and then that jerk pushed you, so I wanted to make sure you weren't hurt, or scared, or something."

I felt bad for being short with him. It wasn
't his fault that he'd interrupted my conversation with a ghost. I held out my bag of licorice toward him. "Jelly bean?"

He wrinkled his nose.
"They're black."