Dearly Departed: Magic and Mayhem Universe (Poppy Carlyle Chronicles) Read online

“I mean his cannon. As in a large weapon that is pointed directly at our family’s homestead.” I started walking again.

  “Shit. I almost wished he’d flashed you his junk instead,” she said.

  “I’m torn.” I see-sawed my hands. “Blow up the family home or have that image burned in my mind forever. Tough call.”

  “Can I offer you a word of advice?” Amy asked.

  “Always.”

  “Don’t mention any of this to the family. They’d be all over it like ticks on a dog.”

  “My lips are sealed.” I mimed turning a lock and throwing away the key. “Oh shit.” I grabbed Amy’s arm and propelled her forward. “Mrs. Peebles just pulled up. Come on.”

  Wielding my amazing skill of manipulation, I managed to get my aunts to do all my loads of laundry. Not only did they take charge of my wash, but Sugar ran to Lurleen’s and bought a stack of velvet covered hangers I desperately needed and two laundry baskets.

  I didn’t know what I would do with two baskets but I appreciated her commitment to my laundry.

  When everything was finally finished, we marched it back to my apartment and deposited it onto my bed. Refusing to let them put my clothes away, or clean my apartment, I escorted everybody to the door, thanking them profusely for all their help and concern.

  Grandma pinned me down for dinner on Friday night, insisting that I bring Jax. She assured me that unlike his family, he’d be welcome. That warmed my heart. Despite my family being a bunch of knuckleheaded hillbillies, they were good people with big hearts.

  “Seriously,” Amy said, stopping just inside the apartment. “Let me know if you need to talk.”

  “I will.” I appreciated her offer. If I was going to pour my heart out to anybody, it would be her. Underneath her tough shell and sarcastic demeanor, Amy was a great listener and confidant. “Where are you off to now?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got a job at BYesig Earl’s Burger Palace and Bait Shop.”

  “Wow, that’s taking the entrepreneurial spirit to a whole new level.” I grimaced. “Which side are you working on? Burgers or bait?”

  “Both. The place isn’t very big. The trick is to not mix up the orders.”

  “Remind me not to eat there,” I said.

  “Don’t knock it till you try it.” Amy stepped into the hallway. “Who knows, maybe bait burgers will be the new trend.”

  “I sincerely hope not.” I pulled her into a hug and whispered, “You’re living your best life ever.”

  She pushed me away, laughing. “You and me both.”

  With that, she jogged down the stairs. I closed the door and released a long-suffering breath. As an afterthought, I locked the door. Between last night’s dinner with the Jacksons and the craziness of the morning, I’d had enough of family.

  “I thought they’d never leave,” said a voice behind me.

  I swung around to see my Aunt Tula sitting on the couch. “Aunt Tula, what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come for a visit.” She crossed her legs, fluffing the floral skirt around her ankles, and draped her arm across the back of the couch. “We need to talk.”

  “But...you’re dead.”

  Chapter Three

  As a grim reaper I’d met my share of dead people. It was part of the job. But having one show up in my house and casually sit on my couch like it was the most natural thing in the world, totally creeped me out.

  “What does being dead have to do with anything?” she asked.

  “Well, it’s just...now that you’ve passed on you don’t need to concern yourself with the affairs of the living.” The argument sounded pretty good to me, but I wasn’t sure I was right. Maybe the dead did watch over us. Maybe they did care what went on in the physical plane. “You should be enjoying the afterlife. Doing whatever you do over there.”

  “What I’m doing is watching a brewing storm.” She drummed her fingers on the back of the couch, but the action didn’t make any noise. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’ve started?”

  “Me?” I jammed my fists onto my hips, my indignation bubbling over the tight control I’d managed to keep until that moment. Wasn’t it bad enough I had to hear about this from the living? Now the dead were poxing me too. “We haven’t done anything wrong. We’re just trying to date like two normal people, but nobody will let that happen.” My voice raised as all the crap I’d put up with over the last twenty-four hours came to a head. “What I do in my private life—” I shook my head. “No, what we do in our private lives is not anybody’s business but Jax’s and mine.”

  “I agree,” my aunt said.

  Her answer drew me up short. “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.” Drifting to a stand, she fluffed her dress again, and then squared her shoulders. “I’m not talking about the trouble between you and Jaxon. You two seem fine. I’m talking about all the dead relatives on both sides of the family. It’s like the ethereal version of the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s over there.”

  “But why?” I circumvented the chair and then plopped onto the seat directly across from her. This really was too much. “We’re just dating. No big deal.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” She paced to the window and stared across the street at Jax’s office. “He’s a Shifter. And you’re a grim reaper.” She pivoted and looked at me. “That might not mean much down here because nobody knows what you do for a living.” She pointed her finger at the ceiling. “But up there everybody knows what you do.”

  I still wasn’t understanding her point. Why did it matter that I was a grim reaper? Or that he was a Shifter? “So?”

  “So,” she continued. “For the first time in history, the Dolbinrods have something to be proud of. Actually, I should say someone to be proud of.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” She drifted back to the couch and perched on the edge, resting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands in a prayer-like pose. “Let’s just say having a grim reaper in the family carries a sort of prestige.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” So far, being a grim reaper on the physical plane had proven to be more of a pain in the ass than a benefit. It certainly hadn’t been prestigious, or glamorous, or even convenient.

  “I wish I was.” She drummed her fingers together. “To be blunt, your ancestors are riding on your coattails of success, and Jax’s kin aren’t liking it one bit. That’s why I’m here. I need to know what’s going on between you two. And I need you to be honest, Poppy, so I can go back and set everybody straight. Just how serious are ya’ll?”

  “I wish everybody would stop asking me that.” I flopped back against the chair. “Dead or alive, it’s really nobody’s business. Plus, I don’t know how serious we are. We’ve only been dating a few months.”

  “Well, unless you want perpetual houseguests, you need to figure that out.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, if I can’t placate the restless spirits from both sides of the family, they’re going to start showing up.” Her eyebrow arched, and she cocked her head. “Right here. In your apartment. Demanding to know what’s going on.”

  “Here?” My body shot forward, the horror of having not only my dead relatives but also Jax’s dead family floating around my house gripping me. “That can’t happen.”

  “It will if you can’t pin down what’s going on.” She shook her head. “Imagine waking up at night and having Uncle Cyril looming over you.”

  “Nooo.” The word squeezed from me as my breath tightened in my chest. “He was so creepy. He never blinked.” A shiver rippled through me. “After he got his arm cut off in that combine accident, he used to chase us kids around, waving his stump and trying to touch us with it.”

  “You’d think the afterlife would have made him a little less off-putting, but it didn’t. He’s still as peculiar as ever.”

  Getting the occasional visit from my aunt wouldn’t have been so bad, but there were a lot of dead relatives I didn’t want sh
owing up uninvited. Setting my apprehension aside, I said, “I like him... A lot.” That wasn’t completely true. “Actually, I love him.”

  “Really? Does he feel the same way?”

  “I think so. We don’t toss the L-word around, but he’s told me he loved me.” I hesitated, not sure if I should share the rest of my thought. Images of uncle Cyril floated through my mind, making my decision for me. “Jax said we’re a mated pair.” I shrugged. “I think I believe him.”

  Aunt Tula’s eyebrows nearly lifted to her hairline. “Well, well, well, that is news.” Her plump pink lips stretched into a wide smile. “Now that’s something I can take back to the families.” Her head bobbed up and down,cr and she stared at me as if seeing me in a new light. After a few seconds she asked, “Does Jax know you’re a grim reaper?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “And he’s okay with it?”

  It was my turn to smile. “Actually, he thinks it’s kind of cool.”

  “Good.” The smile faded, her lips drawing into a straight line. “Does the family know you’re a reaper?”

  Sometimes not telling my family what I did for a living felt a little like a betrayal, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to reveal my true nature. “No. I haven’t figured out how to tell them.”

  “Probably for the best,” my aunt said. “Especially where Zeek is concerned.”

  “He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

  “It’s like that boy tries to make every armadillo Shifter look stupid. Can’t stay out of the way of a car to save his life.” My aunt shook her head. “I’m just amazed he’s still alive.”

  “I know, right? He got sideswiped by an ice cream truck last week.” I raise my hands in the air and shook them. “An ice cream truck. The damn thing only goes about 15 miles an hour.”

  “Like I said, maybe it’s for the best the family doesn’t know about you being a grim reaper.” She stood and fluffed her skirt again. “Well, I’m off. I think once everybody learns you’re a mated pair, things will settle down.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Tula.” Now that she was ready to leave, I was a little sad to see her go. She’d come on urgent business, but we hadn’t gotten a chance to catch up. “And...don’t be a stranger.”

  She smiled and cupped my cheek. “Now that I’ve got an official invite I will definitely stop by.”

  A chill skimmed across my skin as she patted my cheek, but I didn’t let on. Ghosts couldn’t help that they were cold, and I didn’t want to insult her. “Thanks for taking care of this mess. Then again, you always did.”

  “And I always will.” With that she lowered her arm and faded away.

  I stood there for a few seconds, making sure she’d actually gone. No odd creaks or groans sounded. No sense of being watched touched me. Just as I started to relax, my phone blasted to life, filling the room with Chopin’s Death March.

  It looked like I had a reap.”

  Chapter Four

  “Ahh!” I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to slow my racing heart. The phone continued its haunting dirge as I hauled it out of my back pocket. I swiped across Sharon’s name on my screen. “Hello.”

  “Hey there,” she said. “You busy?”

  Sharon was what I refer to as my handler. She doled out my reaping assignments, warned me of impending trouble, and kept me up to date on any pertinent info.

  “Not anymore. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got a quickie for you.”

  A laugh snorted from me. “You know I like a good quickie.”

  “Don’t we all, girlfriend.” The sound of ice clinking into a glass filtered through the phone. I’m not sure what it was about working with the dead, but a lot of us drank. Me included. It seemed whenever Sharon called, she was pouring herself a stiff one. And I never saw my porter, Bunny, without a pink cocktail in her hand. “Rick Birch.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Oh no, not Ricky.”

  “I take it you know him?”

  “Yeah, nice guy. He’s an old racoon Shifter who lives on the edge of town.”

  “Well.” The ice clinked again, and the sound of her swallowing reverberated through the earpiece. “It should be an easy reap. The notes say he knows he’s dead, so no surprises there.”

  “Good. I need something to go right for me today.”

  “How bad can things be? It’s barely noon.”

  “You’d be surprised how much trouble I can get into in just a couple of hours.”

  “No,” she said. “I actually wouldn’t be surprised at all.” She took another drink and swallowed. “Anyhow, let me know how it goes. A quick text is fine. I’ll log all the info here.”

  “Thanks. Have a great weekend.”

  “I always do.” Her laughter was cut short as she ended the call.

  I shoved my phone in my back pocket. Poor Ricky. I couldn’t remember a day when I hadn’t seen him sitting on his front porch, rocking and watching people pass by. It was a sure bet that’s where I would find him today.

  I locked my apartment door behind me, something I didn’t usually do. But after today’s craziness, I didn’t want to take a chance on any of my family members sneaking into my place and ambushing me. Not even Amy.

  There wasn’t much I could do about my dead relatives. They’d come and go whenever they wanted, but the living I could do something about.

  At the bottom of the steps, I peeked around the corner and scanned the street. The coast looked clear. I eased out and pulled the door shut. I started down the sidewalk at a pretty quick clip. My eyes darted everywhere, making sure I wasn’t being followed. From my first perusal, it looked like everybody had gone home. Thank you, Jesus!

  Once I was past Darling’s Drugstore, I relaxed a little. Basically, that was the end of the business section of town. Everything beyond that point was residential.

  I strolled down the next block until the sidewalk ran out and then crossed the street and followed the large row of hedges until I got to the small white wooden gate. Number Two, Main St. That was where Ricky lived, or had lived.

  As I pushed through the gate, I glanced at the house. Just like it was a normal day, he sat on the front porch, rocking in his rocking chair. I waved and walked toward him, acting as normal as possible.

  “Afternoon Ricky.” I stopped at the base of the porch steps. “Mind if I join you?”

  Ricky leaned toward the shorter side of height and as he rocked, his feet lifted off the ground. Dark half circles arched below his beady black eyes, and his thin straight nose rounded at the end. His rocking stop for a second, and he eyed me. Finally, he said, “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” I sauntered up the steps and claimed the rocking chair next to him. For a few minutes, we sat in silence, watching the sporadic cars drive by. “Beautiful day,” I said.

  “Yep.”

  Sharon mentioned that he knew he was dead, but he didn’t know that I was a grim reaper. “So, Ricky, do you know why I’m here?”

  He took a deep breath and then exhaled. “Well, I reckon it has something to do with me being dead.”

  “Yeah, I’m here to help you crossover.” I continued to rock and stare at the street. He continued to rock and stare at the street. The seconds ticked by as I let the situation sink in, the creaking of our rocking chairs filling the silence. After a fair amount of time, I said, “Would that be all right?”

  “I guess that’d be okay.” His rocking slowed, and he finally looked at me. “I always suspected there was something different about you, Poppy Carlyle. Just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

  “Different is definitely a good word for it, Ricky.”

  “I don’t know much about your daddy, but I reckon you got it from him.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I reckon I did.”

  “Well then...” He placed his boney hands on the arms of his chair and pushed to his feet. “I guess we can get on with this. No sense in wearing out my welcome here.” He hitched his thumb toward the front door. “You�
��ll send somebody to take care of me, right? I’m in my chair. Decided to have a second cup of coffee. Sat down and never got up.”

  “There are worse ways to go,” I said, standing. “And yes, I will definitely send somebody to take care of you. Right after I get you on your way.”

  He nodded once. “That’ll be fine.”

  We seemed to have run out of conversation. There was a lot more I wanted to ask him. Then again, I always did when I reaped a nice person. It never failed. I always regretted not getting to know someone a little bit better.

  Ricky had lived in this house for years, but I’d only spoken to him in passing. As far as I knew, he’d never been married. And I didn’t think he had any kids, but I couldn’t be sure of that. I’d leave all the notifying of family and taking care of estate business up to Jax. After all, he was our local law enforcement. I was just the local angel of death.

  “Bunny.” I glanced around, looking for any sign of my porter. Ricky’s gaze cut from me to the sky. It was a common mistake. Most people thought they’d be lifted to the ethereal plane, but transportation usually showed up in the form of an elevator. Not seeing the pink light indicating her arrival, I called again. “Bunny.”

  At the base of the steps a thin pink line of light elongated and stretched. As the glow dimmed, a set of elevator doors materialized.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Ricky’s salt-and-pepper bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise. So far that had been the only true emotion he’d shown. When the elevator doors slid open, his mouth rounded in a silent O. Totally gratifying.

  From inside the garishly decorated pink car stepped my porter. As usual, she held a martini glass filled to the brim with a neon pink liquid. A gigantic strawberry bobbed around at the bottom of the glass, and a bright pink flower floated on top. It looked disgusting. I was more of a whiskey kind of girl.

  Bunny was all about being pink. Today she’d dressed head to toe in blush pink. Her dress had more layers than a socialites wedding cake, and the earrings swinging from her earlobes reminded me of miniature donuts covered in pink icing and topped with rainbow sprinkles. Her usually teased hair hung in large soft curls around her shoulders. If she’d added some sparkles to her dress, she would have looked like a country singer. Not the new modern artists, but a classic singer from the 70s.