aside to reveal the expanse of his chest. I breathed in a quick gasp. You could make out the strength underneath the thin material. There was no soft paunch there.
Who was this man? I kept repeating in my head, be careful .
“As I was saying, I’m looking for my friend. I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I don’t want to get in touch with the family, because they don’t like me and I’m afraid something happened to her.”
“Why don’t they like you?”
“Does it matter?”
“I want to know what I’m getting into here.”
“They thought I was a bad influence,” I made up on the fly.
“When I find this person, do you want me to make contact?”
“Uh, no.” I knew there was no one to get in touch with, but I couldn’t let on the truth. “Just let me know where she is and I’ll make contact,” I covered.
“This sounds like a standard people finder mission. You could probably do this on Facebook. Why are you coming to me?”
“I don’t know how to use the face book. You were recommended.” I purposefully dumbed down my statement and his lips pursed in a tight grimace as if he knew I was lying.
“Who recommended me?” He sat forward again. He was trying to be imposing, he was suspicious of me. Brandon had mentioned he was a supernatural. What kind? What was he? Was he dangerous? Brandon wouldn’t have sent me to someone who was dangerous. Would he? Did he even know?
“My friend Brandon.”
“I don’t know a Brandon.” I just shrugged in response. He leaned even close to me, crowding his desk, his hands planted as he stared at me as if he could figure out the truth by glaring at me. He knew I was lying. It was obvious in the way he was treating me.
“What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Hail?”
“N-nothing,” I stuttered, trying to regain my composure, but it was impossible. My whole body was shaking.
“Bullshit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. All kinds of shit shifted around and bulged. I tried not to stare, so I shifted uncomfortably in my chair like a kid in the principal’s office. He made me uncomfortably aware of my body. Of my fake body.
“Look, you don’t know me, I get that. You don’t trust me, but I’m not the bad guy here. I have a feeling something bad happened to her and no one gives a shit, that’s all. I want to find out what happened. Even if when I find out it’s not what I want,” I stuttered out.
“Fine,” he shifted forward. “I’ll look for her. Tell me everything you know about her.”
I sighed in relief and told him everything I could remember. It was almost pitiful what I was able to remember, as if I was some long lost friend. I remembered so little about my living life, and this afterlife wasn’t exactly a full existence. It was as if I was only pieces of a whole. Inadequate. That was what you could call my existence.
“Her name is Cassandra Mercier.” I gave him the address I remembered. I didn’t know if that was the last place I lived, or where I grew up. I think I had been living in an apartment and the address I knew didn’t have an apartment number.
“What did she do for a living, how old, know any of her friends or family, where they live?” he prompted.
“She was a police officer.” It popped out of my mouth. I was a cop? I was too young to be a cop. But, it fit. It felt right.
“An officer?” He looked interested for the first time.
“Yeah, a rookie, no boyfriend that I know of, a few friends, she liked to dance. She taught a hip-hop fitness class, but I don’t know the name of the place she taught at.” My brain hurt from trying to recall all of these memories.
“That’s a good place to start. You wouldn’t happen to know her social security number?”
I didn’t. Four two four something or other. I shook my head.
“It’ll be a two thousand dollar retainer to take the case, ten percent to start.”
I had exactly two hundred dollars in tips in my pocket. I pulled it out and placed it on his
Who was this man? I kept repeating in my head, be careful .
“As I was saying, I’m looking for my friend. I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I don’t want to get in touch with the family, because they don’t like me and I’m afraid something happened to her.”
“Why don’t they like you?”
“Does it matter?”
“I want to know what I’m getting into here.”
“They thought I was a bad influence,” I made up on the fly.
“When I find this person, do you want me to make contact?”
“Uh, no.” I knew there was no one to get in touch with, but I couldn’t let on the truth. “Just let me know where she is and I’ll make contact,” I covered.
“This sounds like a standard people finder mission. You could probably do this on Facebook. Why are you coming to me?”
“I don’t know how to use the face book. You were recommended.” I purposefully dumbed down my statement and his lips pursed in a tight grimace as if he knew I was lying.
“Who recommended me?” He sat forward again. He was trying to be imposing, he was suspicious of me. Brandon had mentioned he was a supernatural. What kind? What was he? Was he dangerous? Brandon wouldn’t have sent me to someone who was dangerous. Would he? Did he even know?
“My friend Brandon.”
“I don’t know a Brandon.” I just shrugged in response. He leaned even close to me, crowding his desk, his hands planted as he stared at me as if he could figure out the truth by glaring at me. He knew I was lying. It was obvious in the way he was treating me.
“What aren’t you telling me, Ms. Hail?”
“N-nothing,” I stuttered, trying to regain my composure, but it was impossible. My whole body was shaking.
“Bullshit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. All kinds of shit shifted around and bulged. I tried not to stare, so I shifted uncomfortably in my chair like a kid in the principal’s office. He made me uncomfortably aware of my body. Of my fake body.
“Look, you don’t know me, I get that. You don’t trust me, but I’m not the bad guy here. I have a feeling something bad happened to her and no one gives a shit, that’s all. I want to find out what happened. Even if when I find out it’s not what I want,” I stuttered out.
“Fine,” he shifted forward. “I’ll look for her. Tell me everything you know about her.”
I sighed in relief and told him everything I could remember. It was almost pitiful what I was able to remember, as if I was some long lost friend. I remembered so little about my living life, and this afterlife wasn’t exactly a full existence. It was as if I was only pieces of a whole. Inadequate. That was what you could call my existence.
“Her name is Cassandra Mercier.” I gave him the address I remembered. I didn’t know if that was the last place I lived, or where I grew up. I think I had been living in an apartment and the address I knew didn’t have an apartment number.
“What did she do for a living, how old, know any of her friends or family, where they live?” he prompted.
“She was a police officer.” It popped out of my mouth. I was a cop? I was too young to be a cop. But, it fit. It felt right.
“An officer?” He looked interested for the first time.
“Yeah, a rookie, no boyfriend that I know of, a few friends, she liked to dance. She taught a hip-hop fitness class, but I don’t know the name of the place she taught at.” My brain hurt from trying to recall all of these memories.
“That’s a good place to start. You wouldn’t happen to know her social security number?”
I didn’t. Four two four something or other. I shook my head.
“It’ll be a two thousand dollar retainer to take the case, ten percent to start.”
I had exactly two hundred dollars in tips in my pocket. I pulled it out and placed it on his
Similar Books
