Drowning in Amber (A Marie Jenner Mystery Book 2) (26 page)

“You like to mountain climb?” I asked. I never would have guessed it.

“Yes, but that’s not the point.” He pushed himself away from the desk again, as though the sight of the screen could no longer be tolerated. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering with this.”

What? What had happened? We’d decided to run this business, together. Hadn’t we? We even celebrated with hamburgers. What was I missing?

“Are you all right?” I asked. “Did something happen with Honoria?”

“She’s fine,” he said shortly. “But I’m no good at this stuff. We haven’t had a phone call since all Uncle’s old clients found out he died. Well, except for the one today. It’s on the machine.”

“Another job?” I was really confused now. “Isn’t another job a good thing?”

“Go listen to it,” he said, acidly. “Actually, there are two messages. The other one’s for you.”

“Nobody ever calls me here.” Basically because I have no friends. “Who was it?”

“Just go listen.” He turned back to his computer, sighing hugely.

“It wasn’t my mother, was it?” I felt my throat tighten. If something happened to my mother— But James waved his hand dismissively.

“No. It has nothing to do with her.”

I walked to my desk and pressed the button that would replay all the voicemail messages. James had been right. We hadn’t received many—read any—calls about work since word had gotten out that James the Elder was dead. I suspected from James’s demeanor that this was not going to be a big case.

“Hi,” a female voice chirped. “I got your name out of the Yellow Pages. I need somebody to find my lost dog. Do you guys do that?”

A lost dog. Great. No wonder James was in the depths of despair. I wrote down the woman’s name and phone number. At the very least we needed to call her back, and who knew, maybe it could actually turn into something. I like dogs. Could be a great sideline.

Thinking about finding lost dogs, I missed half of the next message. When I finally came back to reality, all I caught was a man’s voice, which I did not recognize, reciting a telephone number.

“Dammit,” I muttered, and pressed the replay button.

As the message played again, I understood exactly why James was in such a dark mood.

It was Jerome Leary, of Leary Millworks. He had been terribly impressed with the resume I’d faxed him and wanted to set up an interview as soon as possible.

With fingers that felt frozen, I wrote down the phone number, then deleted both messages. And then I thought, furiously. I hadn’t mentioned a thing to James about applying for another job. Had actually forgotten I’d even done it. But now, here it was. On the machine. And he’d heard it.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I finally said. He didn’t answer.

“I’m not kidding. I just threw my resume in as a lark—just to see if I’d get a bite.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. I’d sent away my resume because Honoria was blackmailing me about the whole seeing ghosts thing. But I didn’t want another job. Not really.

After all, I’d just told James I’d jump. I’d committed to him and his business.

“Are you going to answer me?” I asked.

“What’s there to answer?” he replied. “We have exactly one client, and you’re looking for another job.”

“There’s the dog woman,” I started, then shut my mouth. Looking for a lost dog would not pay the rent. Anybody’s rent.

“See? That’s what I mean,” he said, and I could hear the self pity oozing through his voice. “What’s the point of even trying? I was fooling myself, thinking I could make a go of this. And now, with you leaving—”

“I told you, the resume was just a lark! And what do you mean, you’re not built for this? Your uncle didn’t leave this business to you because you have the same name as him, no matter what he said. You have a gift for this. You can’t just give it up!”

“Back at ya!” he bellowed.

Silence reigned as we both thought about what having a gift for this actually meant. At least, I assumed James was thinking about it. He could have been playing a computer card game for all I knew. I was thinking about it, though. Hard.

I’d convinced James to take the Clairvoyant Honoria job because I had the dead guy and I thought we’d be able to figure out who killed him quickly and quietly. So far, a big fat no to both, and now our client was on the run. James was doing his best to figure out what was really going on, but I wasn’t any kind of help. Eddie remembered next to nothing, and even his best friend Luke hadn’t been able to give me any good information. The dead could let you down, no doubt about it.

And then there was Honoria. Good old clairvoyant Honoria who’d managed to spook Eddie so much that I knew I’d never be able to talk him into being in the same room with her, even if it was what we needed to bust this case wide open.

Bust this case wide open. Huh. Nothing was going to bust this case wide open. Nothing from my end, anyhow. All I could do was talk to ghosts, and I wasn’t even very good at that. Eddie was no closer to remembering anything than he was at the beginning of this adventure. All I could see was this case stretching out before us forever. With Eddie hanging around, getting high and bugging me. Forever.

That thought put my mood right in the toilet.

“I’m no good at this,” I snapped. “No matter what you think.” Then my stupid throat tightened, and I sniffed.

All I did was lie to him, because of my stupid gift. And I’d probably keep lying to him, until he decided he didn’t need a lying liar around him anymore.

He needed to find himself someone who was just a good secretary slash receptionist. And that was all. No goofy gifts that were a gift to no one. No baggage. And no more lies. He didn’t need any of it.

I would take my lies and leave.

I picked up the phone, dialed the number to Leary Millworks, and set up an interview for three days from that moment. I knew James could hear me, because I heard him rattling around in that office like he was looking for something big, blunt, and heavy to throw at me, but I didn’t care. I was doing this for his own good.

I even told him that. “I’m doing this for your own good, James. You don’t need me around mucking up your chances for a happy life.”

Yes, I actually said that to him. He was quiet for a few moments. He even stopped rattling around.

“I can’t believe you said that to me,” he finally muttered. “Sometimes I think you really are crazy, Marie.”

Pushed my buttons, big time. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I yelled at him.

“Go straight to hell, James! Straight to hell!”

And then I went to Jasmine’s.

I hoped she had more of that scotch left. I felt the need for many, many drinks.

ON THE WAY
over to the park, I decided to find Noreen and use her to get high. Nasty words, “using her,” but that’s exactly what I’d decided to do. And it wouldn’t be like I hadn’t used her before.

I was feeling worse than I had in a while. Since I was dead, actually. Jumpy and unwell. Achy and kind of sick. That was the preamble to withdrawal. Recognized it well enough to know I really didn’t want to go down that road again. So, I was looking for my good friend Noreen, so I could use her. One more time.

I walked into the park and looked around, but I didn’t see her on the grass or near the benches. This was unusual for her. She always showed up around this time, got high, then went to work. She told me once it was a lot easier to work high, since she had to work longer and longer hours. She figured it was because her looks kind of left. Guess even the dirtbags who are looking for a quick BJ after work are only willing to pay top dollar for somebody pretty. She used to be. But not anymore.

I wandered around the park, but didn’t see her, so I checked the alley behind the park. At first I thought it was just the usual suspects back there, but as I wandered into the perpetual gloom of the alley, a ruckus started near the other end.

“Call 911!” somebody cried. “She’s dying!”

So, I went to see who had bought it. Don’t mean to be cold about the whole thing, but it happens often enough that the horror of it can wear thin. Guess it’s a bit like being a soldier in a war. After a while, the only time you really see how fucked up your life is, is in your dreams. The rest of the time, you just do your job, no matter what it is.

At that moment, my job was going down that alley to see who had died.

I pushed around the people, trying to stay away from touching them too much, because now that I’d made the decision to get high with Noreen, I didn’t want to sully it with any of the shit the other fools were taking. I bobbed and weaved until I couldn’t help but go through someone, then sort of psychically held my nose as I walked through a couple of them. That actually worked. Didn’t get much more than a bit of a jolt of whatever they were on. Almost hooked into a guy I knew who did meth—but he was also HIV positive, and I didn’t want to mess with that. Not even dead.

I finally got to the middle of the mob and looked down at the person who had died. I felt something like a punch to the gut when I realized the broken stick figure on the ground was Noreen. Noreen, who had been like a sister to me since I hit the streets.

Her eyes looked like dead glass. The foam slowly leaking from her lips trickled to the pavement. I wasn’t the only one who screamed when her arms jerked spasmodically and the foam spewed across her face.

“She’s not dead!” somebody—might have been me—cried. “Do something!”

But of course, nobody did. They all knew it was too late. The dead eyes told everybody in the alley that.

“I look like shit, don’t I?”

I glanced up, and my heart jumped in my chest—well, not really, but you know what I mean. Noreen was standing beside me, looking down at her own cooling body.

“I always hoped I’d look better when I died,” she said. “You know, do one of those go to bed and die in my sleep things, but I guess that doesn’t happen for most of us.”

“Noreen?”

For a second, staring at her misty spirit standing beside me, I thought I’d been given a chance to actually say good-bye to somebody who mattered. When she didn’t react, I felt like crying. Looked like even that was a no-go.

But then she shifted, as though surprised to hear her own name. Even though everybody in that alley was whispering her name as word of her death passed through the various groups and out into the park. And then she looked at me. Really looked at me.

“Eddie,” she said, and smiled, wiping the foam that had gathered on her lips. “You came to see me off. Nice.”

“Noreen,” I said again, feeling stupid even as I said it. Of course it was Noreen.

“Let’s get out in the sun, shall we?” she said. “Doesn’t look like I’ll be working today. We can talk.”

I followed her, through the press of gawkers, out of the alley, and into the park. We walked to an empty bench and sat. She held her face up to the sunlight and sighed contentedly.

“I didn’t give myself much of a chance to do this while I was alive,” she said. “Guess it won’t hurt to do it now, before I move on.”

“You—you know about moving on?”

She looked over at me with that look on her face I remembered too well. It was the “what did you think, boy” look. “Of course. Didn’t you?”

“But I thought—Marie told me drug addicts have a hard time realizing they are dead.” I frowned. “I’m sure that’s what she said.”

“Small chick? Big eyes? Looks like she’s waiting for the next slap to the chops?”

“Could be.”

“I seen her at your tree. And here. And I got a strange vibe from her. Like there was more to her than big eyes. So, she can see you, huh?”

She chuckled and wiped more of the foam, of which there seemed to be a never-ending supply, off her chin. “What, you needed to hire somebody to understand what anybody with half a brain should know on their own?”

“I didn’t hire her,” I protested. “She just showed up. Said she’d help me—”

“Give your head a shake, boy. You should be able to do this on your own. It’s like life, man.”

“But—”

“No buts, Eddie. You gotta get yourself together, make a decision or two about what you want out of the next bit, and then do it.”

“But—”

“What did I tell you about that?”

So I shut my mouth and sat beside her silently as she enjoyed the warm autumn sun.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just sat in the sun. I started thinking that now that Noreen was dead, and a ghost, we could hang out together. I wouldn’t need to be around that wacky Marie chick anymore. I could be back with my own kind. I’d show Noreen how to get high, and then we’d be just fine. Better than before, because we didn’t have to do demeaning things like dumpster diving and giving BJs to get cash.

“This is nice,” I said. “We should do this every day.”

Noreen shook her head. “I’m not sticking around, Eddie.”

“But—”

“You back to that again?”

“No. Well, yeah.” I shook my head, not understanding at all. “Why won’t you stay? This is nice, isn’t it?”