Author: Kalayna Price

She scampered out of my office and across the lobby to Rianna’s. Both trolls followed this time, one setting a new desk in the center of the room and the other placing the final two chairs. Rianna’s room was decorated with the same dark wood as mine, but where my accents were blue and silver, all of hers were green and brass. Desmond even had an oversized green velvet dog bed, which he immediately investigated.

Rianna and I looked at each other, sharing an approving nod.

“The small one goes in the little room,” Ms. B told the troll who still carried one desk, the size a pupil might use in school.

She got a desk for Roy? If he weren’t already dead, I guessed the ghost would keel over from joy. I couldn’t wait until he saw it. But one nagging worry scratched at the edge of my mind.

“Ms. B, how did you pay for all this?”

“From your treasury of course.”

My treasury? I made a mental whimper that I managed not to allow to escape any farther than my thoughts. “So, Faerie money?” I gave a despairing glance at all the beautiful things—which we were going to have to return. Faerie money didn’t remain money long; it turned back into leaves or rocks or whatever it was made from after a few hours, which meant everything was technically stolen.

“Not Faerie money,” the brownie said. Her expression was hard to read because of her very inhuman, coal-colored eyes and lack of a real nose, but she sounded offended.

Rianna elbowed me in the side and whispered. “Coleman made good money as governor. Of course, he also knew how to spend it, but he left quite a bit when he died.”

“I have a vault of money?” My voice sounded far away as I imagined what I could do with an entire vault of money.

“Not anymore.” Ms. B walked back into the lobby.

My shoulders sagged, just a little. “Oh.” Well, at least the office looks presentable, I guess. Though a bit of savings to invest back into the business wouldn’t have been amiss. I bet even Nina Kingly can’t find fault in this setup.

As if my thoughts summoned a client, the door chimed. I turned.

A mousy-looking woman with short cropped brown hair stood just inside the door, her eyes wide as she took in the now lavish lobby.

Ms. B hopped onto her desk. “Welcome to Tongues for the Dead, where not even death can keep secrets.”

That so wasn’t our tagline. Besides, Death was more than capable of keeping secrets. I should know.

The woman looked toward the desk, and her shoulders jumped as her gaze landed on the brownie. “Oh, uh. Hello?”

I stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Alex Craft,” I said, holding out my hand.

The woman gave me a relieved smile. “Kelly.” She took my hand and pumped it a little too vigorously. “Kelly Kirkwood.”

Crap. With everything that had happened with the collectors and then the surprise of Ms. B’s redecorating, I’d forgotten Kirkwood’s widow was supposed to stop by this morning. The collectors’ vague warning unnerved me, but I’d told Kelly that I’d work her case and I would stand by my word. After all, I had a business to get off the ground and dropping my first two cases wouldn’t be the best start.

My hand tingled both from Kelly’s warmth and her grip by the time I reclaimed it. Rianna hovered in her doorway and I motioned her over. “Mrs. Kirkwood, this is my associate, Rianna McBride. We’ll be working your husband’s case together.” That got an eyebrow lift from Rianna, but if Kelly noticed Rianna’s reaction, it didn’t stop her from giving Rianna as enthusiastic a handshake as she’d given me.

Introductions complete, I moved on to the more important matter. “Did you bring the items we discussed?”

“Right here.” She held up a thin manila folder.

“Perfect. Let’s have a seat in my office.”

With any luck, we’d find a pattern we could use to track the rider.

An hour and a half later, Kelly had signed the required paperwork, paid our retainer fee, and then, after I’d promised to keep her up-to-date, she’d left to plan her husband’s funeral. Since then Rianna and I had poured over Kirkwood’s purchases for the three days he’d been possessed. We’d expected the five-star restaurant charges, and as Rianna had noted with Kingly’s cuisine choices, they were in alphabetical order—this time Jeniveve, La Belle, and Le Rouge, which, on a list of Nekros’s five-star restaurants, were directly before the ones he’d eaten at while in Kingly’s body.

“It’s been what, thirteen days since Kingly died? What restaurant is thirteen spaces below Pandora’s Delight—that was the last place Kingly ate, right?” I asked. We were hours from lunchtime, but if we knew where the rider was going, finding him would be a hell of a lot easier.

But do I want to find him? I couldn’t help thinking about the collectors’ visit last night and their warning to let someone else handle the case. But I’d called John after Death had left, and he’d insisted I lacked enough physical evidence to open a homicide case.

Which leaves us to find the rider. That didn’t mean we had to engage him, just find him and then call in the big guns. I glanced at Rianna, waiting for her to check on the restaurant.

She pulled out her phone and in a few clicks, had the search results she’d used the day before. “Problem,” she said, frowning. “There are only nine more five-star restaurants listed.”

Damn. That meant he could be anywhere. Would he start back at the beginning? Or return to favorites? I had no way of knowing.

The rest of Kirkwood’s charges weren’t terribly enlightening. The hotel he’d stayed at was also a five-star establishment, but he’d stayed there both of the nights before he’d doused himself with gas and we didn’t know where Kingly had stayed. The rider had also hired escorts, which I hadn’t even realized Nekros had until I looked up what the—rather outrageous—charges on the card were.

“Why did he go to a ballet?” Rianna asked, pointing to one of the final charges on the card.

I shook my head. “He also attended four movies and went to an art gallery.” I stared at the charges. “What is it doing? I mean, it’s pretty obvious that it’s eating good food, staying in luxurious places, indulging its libido, and all around living the highlife on its victim’s dime before sucking the body dry and jumping to a new one, but why? What’s its point?”

Rianna shrugged. “Does it have to have one? Maybe that’s the extent of it.”

Supernatural identity theft? Yes, but this ended in death, not a battle with creditors.

“There has to be some sort of plan though, right? You don’t just kill people to—” I didn’t finish the sentence because at that moment an excited ghost popped through the door.

“I have a desk! A real desk,” Roy said, his opaque glasses sliding down his nose as he bounced on his toes like a child who’d been promised all the ice cream he could eat.

“I wish I could take credit, but it was all Ms. B.”

“Ms. B? You mean the…?” He pointed toward the lobby.

“Brownie. And yes. She apparently decided we needed new office furniture.” And hadn’t consulted anyone first, which I wasn’t exactly complaining about, we looked a hell of a lot more professional, but she’d appointed herself office manager and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

Rianna gave me a quizzical look. “The ghost?”

I nodded. “He’s excited about his desk,” I said and a moment later lights lit behind Rianna’s eyes as she tapped the grave so she could see and hear Roy. He ignored her, though I knew from what Roy had told me in the past that she’d just lit up like a torch in the land of the dead.

Well, ignoring is better than fighting.

I glanced at the paper in front of me. We needed something to compare Kirkwood’s experiences to. I knew the rider had slept with Allison in Daniel’s body and that while riding both Kirkwood and Kingly it had dined well, but what about the rest? Did the host’s personality have any influence?

“Roy, you up for your first assignment?”

The ghost beamed at me. “Just say the word.”

“I need you to convince James Kingly to come to the office.”

Roy’s expression fell. “The ghost?”

“No, his dead body. Yes, of course the ghost,” I said, but he looked so crestfallen that I added, “I know you don’t like dealing with other ghosts, but if you run into any trouble of the energy stealing sort, I’ll give you a full recharge when you get back, okay?”

He nodded, but he looked far from thrilled. He didn’t object though, so that was a plus. I got Kingly’s address from the paperwork Nina had signed and read it off to him. Roy’s wave was anything but enthusiastic as he retreated farther into the land of the dead where he could travel faster.

Once he was gone, I looked at Rianna who was watching me with an amused expression, her eyes once again back to normal. “They’re always real to you, aren’t they?”

“Ghosts?”

She nodded.

I shrugged. “Sometimes I’m afraid that one day I won’t be able to tell the difference between who and what is real versus what is slipping through from another plane.” I pushed away from my desk and stretched. I’d been sitting still too long.

Walking over to the coffeepot, I discovered Ms. B had stocked a very nice dark roast bean. I started to prepare enough coffee for two before I remembered that Rianna couldn’t actually drink it and paused, scoop hovering over the filter.

“Do you mind if I?” I nodded at the coffeepot. Rianna just shrugged and a lump of guilt tugged at me. When we’d been at the academy she’d needed her morning cup of coffee just as much as I had. It was downright rude to make it in front of her.

“Oh don’t look like that, Al. And don’t give me that startled face either. I’ve known you too long not to know how you think. Drink your coffee. I listen to your stomach rumble while you watch me eat at the Bloom all the time. I can brave the scent of coffee.” She winked at me and said, “I’ll enjoy it vicariously through you. Though I will take some water if you have it.”