Reapers, Inc. - The Hunter

- Reapers, Inc. - The Hunter

- Midpoint

Reapers, Inc.,-The Hunter

By

B.L. Newport

Smashwords Edition

© 2012, B.L. Newport

This book is available in print at www.Amazon.com

ISBN: 1477570616

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents are purely a product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to actual persons - living or dead - places or events are entirely coincidental.

Also by B.L. Newport on Smashwords.com

Reapers, Inc. Series

Brigit’s Cross

Rogue Reaper

Dark Souls

Mackleberry Ridge Short Stories:

Buddy Hatch & The End of the World

Dani Mackleberry & The Bike

1: Tick-Tock

She was waiting. She had been all night, waiting as she had done every night for almost a month. The reading chair by the window had become her post, the perch from which she could see the street and anyone who happened along it. Though her dark eyes remained focused on the sidewalk cloaked in the darkness of night, her heart hoped to see what her mind repeatedly told her would not be there. Maggie was not coming home.

Brigit glanced at the clock on the wall. Its steady tick- tock echoed in the silence of the apartment. The pace it audibly set kept time with her thoughts and memories as she passed the night waiting. A part of her was grateful for its presence and consistency in helping her keep track of her down time away from the office. The other part of her resented it, for almost the same reasons.

The touch of pink that had begun to show itself in the sky between the buildings lining the street had already announced the arrival of the new day. The visible sign to the end of another empty night caused her to check the time. It was almost six-thirty A.M. – the time Maggie should be preparing to head out the door for work. Brigit held her breath for half a second, listening against the silence of the apartment and the gentle tick-tock for the memory of Maggie’s bustling down the hall to make sure she had herself together enough to face the day.

Slowly, Brigit let go of the breath. Even her memory was quiet today. There was only the steady tick-tock to greet her.

“I guess I should go,” she announced against the silence.

With one last hopeful glance out the window, Brigit resigned herself to the announcement she had just made. She paused after rising from Maggie’s reading chair. The pale blue stripes were fading with the years. She wondered if they bore the representation to other things she adored…

“I’ll be back,” she promised before turning away and stalking out of the empty apartment where she had lived two lives for so long.

A nip of cold was on the air as Brigit stepped onto the sidewalk and turned to the direction she would follow to the office. Fall was finally shunning the sweater of warmth it was carrying, as if it dreaded being the precursor to winter this year. Brigit inhaled deep. Once upon a time, the crisp chill that greeted her now would have filled her with glee. Fall and winter had always been her favorite seasons. They were the most active in their displays of change. Since her death, though, the seasons had only served as a reminder of the beginning of her second life as a ghost.

It had been five years now since that Halloween night. She had died after keeping a promise to her friend, Rachel; to visit the nightclub she and her boyfriend, Scott, were opening. She had died by the hands of the old Bailey. At the time, Brigit had believed her death to be an accident, that the Bailey had misunderstood the direction he had been given. He had been a simpleton, after all. Yet, as the time had passed, Brigit’s understanding of how the Bailey operated had grown clearer. Her death had not been an accident. It had been a Divine direction that could not be ignored. That knowing, though, did not give Brigit comfort. In truth, it was a pill of resentment she swallowed on a daily basis. Lately, it was becoming an especially hard pill to swallow.

Maggie was dating again. Brigit knew it. She had told herself repeatedly that she couldn’t honestly expect Maggie to live the rest of her life alone. She had reminded herself that Maggie was human and humans needed to be touched, stimulated to feel. Brigit had never believed that Maggie would be satisfied with the mere knowledge that she was not alone, that her dead partner still watched over her because of a promise made when they were young. She might have hoped otherwise, but Brigit knew a day would come when Maggie’s physical loneliness would dominate everything. That day had come a couple of years ago, and despite the false starts of a few relationships, Brigit had secretly wished her hope would win out.

“Why couldn’t she just get a cat?” Brigit grumbled as she trudged along the sidewalk. “Cats can snuggle.”

Maggie was seeing someone seriously. The fact that she had not spent a night in her home for a month told Brigit that much. She was aware when Maggie had been in the apartment, perhaps to pick up a few things or to return a few other things, but she was not living there. The new person had only been inside a couple of times, but not long enough for Brigit to get a sense of the energy Maggie surrounded herself with now. They were always gone before Brigit came home. She had the sense this was intentional on Maggie’s part.

Brigit entered the Bleecker Street Café still lost in thought. Though her dark eyes scanned the room, her mind didn’t register the faces that glanced up at her as she passed by. It wasn’t until she stood at the counter that her thoughts were interrupted and pushed aside.

“You look like you’re angry at the world this mornin’.” Brigit turned to see Mama Dee staring hard at her from where she perched on the barstool. “Are you okay?”

Brigit swallowed hard as she searched for an answer. Mama Dee had been her friend for a long time in both the previous life and the present. It would be hard to tell her anything other than the truth.

“It was a long night,” Brigit offered gently.

Giuseppe Cincotta appeared to her left. Though his lips never moved, she could hear him clearly in her mind asking if she would be staying or going today. Mama Dee heard him as well and interrupted.

“You better take it ‘to go’, baby. John’s waiting for you at the office.”

“To go, then, Giuseppe. How long has John been in?” Brigit returned her attention to the little old lady beside her.

“He came in this morning, so not too long. He passed me on the way in and told me to tell you he was waiting for you if I saw you. Now, are you goin’ to tell me what’s buggin’ you? Is it Maggie? Is she all right?”

Brigit turned to watch as Giuseppe prepared her coffee. Mama Dee rarely stopped by to check in on Maggie herself. She relied on Brigit to inform her of any new developments in Maggie’s life.

“Maggie’s fine, I guess. I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.”

The statement came out with a slight note of bitterness despite the effort Brigit had made to sound nonchalant. Mama Dee cocked her head to the right and peered hard at Brigit’s profile. Brigit could feel the intensity of her dear friend’s gaze against her cheek.

“What do you mean you ‘haven’t seen her’?” Mama Dee asked. Brigit shrugged.

“She hasn’t been home.”

“For how long?”

“A month,” Brigit answered quietly as Giuseppe set the paper cup containing her coffee on the counter before her.

“A month? Where has she been?”

“I don’t know, Mama.”

“WHY NOT?”

The question came out as a demand. It was a question Brigit had asked herself on occasion. She knew she could find Maggie anywhere at any time if she wanted to. There had been a few nights when she had fought hard against that wanting.

“She needs her space, Mama. I can’t always be running around trying to keep her safe. She has to figure things out on her own.”

Mama Dee continued to stare hard at the young woman beside her. There was more to the story than Brigit was telling.

“She has to figure what out on her own? She’s seeing someone, isn’t she?” Mama Dee asked coolly. When Brigit didn’t answer, the lady simply clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Well, it was bound to happen. The living have to keep on living, Brigit. We couldn’t expect her to just wait to die so she could be with you again. It’s not like it won’t happen anyway.”

Brigit turned to look at her friend. Mama Dee was being rather blunt in her honesty today. If she hadn’t already been in a borderline bad mood, Brigit knew she would have ignored the lack of empathy coming from her friend. At that moment, though, Mama Dee’s bluntness was a blow to her gut. It hurt.

“I shouldn’t keep John waiting,” Brigit said quietly as she slid from her stool.

Before Mama Dee had a chance to say anymore, Brigit turned and strode out of the café. Once she was out in the crisp morning air, she tried to silence the echo of Mama Dee’s words. Yes, it was bound to happen. No, Brigit couldn’t just expect Maggie to wait to die so they could be together, and yes, it was going to happen eventually. All the obvious that had just been uttered did not mean Brigit had to be happy about how Maggie spent her time. Especially since time was all they had…

2: Katuri-Buttercup

She opened her eyes and exhaled slowly. She had been meditating, cleaning the visions of her work from her mind. It had become a daily ritual for her to do this. It was what allowed her to accept the new day’s assignments with a clear mind and, sometimes, a clear heart.

The Department of Dangerous Assignments was still relatively understaffed. Katuri-Buttercup was the sole constant Reaper. On occasion, a few of the others would be assigned to assist her when it was considered best for her safety. Sometimes, Brigit Malone would step in herself to assist with a decidedly hazardous assignment. Katuri appreciated the help. Especially when it was a case that would in the soul to be reaped being sent to Limbo rather than through the door to their fate. When she worked those particular cases alone, Katuri would return to her meditation room with a heart so heavy she wanted to quit the work for good.

When Yoshiro Takamoto had approached her to join his office, Katuri had agreed with the hope that it would help her pass the time. She had been a ghost for almost four hundred years by then, wandering the region of her birth, life and death searching fruitlessly for her heart’s happiness. She had asked many of the spirits she encountered if they knew where Katuri could find the source of her happiness, but none of them knew. They had never heard of such a spirit passing through their plane of existence.

Yoshiro Takamoto had put Katuri to work immediately. The cases were not separated in Japan as they were in the North American office. All assignments were treated the same. If a spirit to be passed was benign, it was approached accordingly. If the spirit was deemed malevolent, Katuri kept her guard up and reaped by any means necessary. In her current position, she found that she was not given such a broad field to work in. All the spirits in her assignments were dangerous on some level. Her guard was constantly at a heightened status. Some days it greatly tired her.

As her eyes focused on the stack of portfolios waiting for her on the desk, Katuri allowed her mind to wandered to the past. For half a second, she called to the image that had buried itself so deeply in her memories. She dared not to call out the memory’s name. She had never been worthy to utter it out loud, but she had carried it silently in her heart since the moment it had been spoken to her. Instead, she called gently for her happiness, the source of her peace, the love of her soul.

From the shadows – for a brief glimpse – Katuri saw her and she felt her heart skip a beat. It was the ghost of a memory, but it was enough to sustain her spirit until the next time…

They had met only once, briefly, and that meeting had been enough for Katuri-Buttercup to know where her heart belonged. It had been a chance encounter, a moment that had frozen itself in time under the mid-day sun at the market. Katuri had never seen her before. Of that fact, she had been confident. No one had ever looked into her eyes and examined her soul. No one had ever smiled so lovingly at her. No one had ever giggled so softly when she stammered a surprised offering of a steamed dumpling. With her parents bowing profusely before the smiling girl’s chaperones, it had been the only thing Katuri could think to say to break the ice. The smiling girl was related to the emperor. Katuri could tell that much, but she did not have the courage to ask for more than her name. Whether it was real or not, Katuri didn’t care. The smiling girl had said it in a voice only Katuri could hear. To her, that voice meant the name was for her knowledge alone. It was the name she carried in her heart.

When the ghost returned to the shadows of her mind, Katuri sighed. She felt light again. She could return to work soon. She wanted to wait, though, until Brigit passed out the day’s assignments before taking leave of the office. Katuri did not like returning to find work waiting for her. She found it to be the quickest way to destroy any sense of accomplishment she might have in the job. It was better to receive the work when it was handed out and to go from there. If there were any cases to be completed by the time Katuri reached the end of her day, they would be combined with the next day’s assignments. It was simply better that way.

3: 666 ½ Bleecker Street

Brigit sighed heavily as she stood before the door. She did not search for her skeleton key. There was no longer a need to even carry it really. The main office, the world headquarters for Reapers, Incorporated, was never empty of souls these days. There was always at least a half dozen Reapers inside that could easily expel a surprise visitor. The main door was never locked anymore.

She paused to shake off the mood she had left the café in. Mama Dee’s statements of truth had been rumbling through her mind, truths that reinforced what she had already been telling herself every night she spent waiting for Maggie. This was her last chance to quiet them before fully engaging her day. John had been away for almost two weeks. She couldn’t let him see her like this.

Opening the door, Brigit shut the lid on her personal thoughts and stepped inside. Even from the front door, she could feel the myriad of energies present in the building. The staff had grown significantly over the past five years. In answer to that growth, new offices had been opened on secret floors above her. A stairway had appeared on the right side of the main hall and the gargoyles that had once hung where the stairs now entered the second floor had repositioned themselves to hang on that space of ceiling directly in front of the door. When Brigit had suddenly noticed their relocation, she pondered whether the grotesque heads truly were a defense against evil or if they were mere decoration. That pondering had briefly led her to the wondering of whether the gargoyles possessed a thought one way or the other as to their purpose. When she had caught herself fancying a conversation with them, Brigit shook those thoughts from her head and locked her attention on her work for the day. She had never been one to possess that kind of imagination – at least, she hadn’t been so during life. Five years of walking the other side, however, had shown her the possibilities of what could have been if she had been one for imagination. Yet, she had seen so much on this side of living that it no longer mattered she had lacked a healthy imagination.

John had been the one to open the new floors to the office. He was the only one that knew the secret trick. When he had offered to teach it to Brigit, she had politely declined for selfish reasons. John was so busy with his travels, recruiting and training that Brigit barely saw him. If there was a reason for John Blackwick to be in the office for longer than a few minutes, Brigit welcomed it. She had grown fond of the Grim Reaper during the beginning of her career as a Reaper. Even when he was cross with her – or she with him – she still held fond feelings for him. He had, after all, provided her with the opportunity that allowed her to keep her promise to Maggie. John Blackwick was not only her boss. He was also her friend and she missed him when he was gone away too long.

A movement to her right caught her eye as she closed the door behind her. Belinda Yaris, now the Senior Records Keeper, stood in the doorway to her small office, her bright blue eyes trained on Brigit’s face.

“Hey, Bree,” Belinda greeted cheerfully.

Brigit smiled at the use of her nickname. Mama Dee had called her ‘Bree’ once in joking chastisement while in Belinda’s presence and the Goth girl had quickly adopted it in addressing Brigit. She didn’t mind. Maggie had used it often. In a way, it was the signal to Brigit that everything was right in the world.

“Good morning, Belinda,” Brigit greeted in return. “How’s everything?”

“Ho-hum, you know,” Belinda shrugged. “John came in this morning.”

“So I’ve heard. Where is he? I was told he’s waiting for me.”

“In the office, but you might give him a few minutes. Jean-Pierre just went in and I know they haven’t seen one another in almost a week,” Belinda advised.

“Good lord,” Brigit sighed. “They’re ghosts. It’s not like they couldn’t just pop in on each other whenever they felt like it.”

“Apparently, John’s been super busy in the new office.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I hear things,” Belinda smiled mischievously. “Ghosts really don’t keep secrets, you know?”

“Well, that blows that legend out of the water doesn’t it?” Brigit chuckled. “All right, they’ve had long enough. I’m going in. I’ll see you in a while.”

“Good luck,” Belinda sang out before disappearing back into her office.

Brigit chuckled to herself again as she began walking the hall toward the office she shared with John. As she passed each open door, she involuntarily looked in. If a Reaper was present within, they would acknowledge one another with a simple nod. It was a rare occasion that Reaper would interrupt Brigit’s morning approach toward her office. If John was in-house, it was almost guaranteed Brigit would not be delayed in going to meet him.

She entered the room and paused long enough to scan it as she shrugged out of her coat and hang it on the coat rack she had found and propped against the wall two years ago. John was sitting behind the large mahogany desk and Jean-Pierre occupied one of the visitor’s chairs. The two had been in a quiet conversation, but upon Brigit’s entrance, they ceased talking and turned to face her. Both men looked exhausted, but happy to see her.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Brigit greeted. She would not apologize for interrupting their conversation. Even though she shared the office space with John, he was gone most of the time. In her opinion, that made the office hers by ninety percent. Besides, if John wanted privacy, the door would have been closed.

“Bon jour, Cherie,” Jean-Pierre greeted softly. “I hate to say ‘hello’ and ‘good-bye’ in the same moment, but I’m afraid I must go. Mon dieu! I need a vacation. John, please consider my offer,” Jean-Pierre implored as he rose from the visitor’s chair and fastened the buttons of his suit coat.

“I will, love,” John replied just as softly. Brigit saw a weary smile cross John’s features. “I promise.”

“Very well. I’m off then,” Jean-Pierre announced.

Brigit watched him walk toward the main door. She wondered, briefly, what was keeping the Bailey so busy lately; but as she thought about it, they had all been busy lately. It was as if the whole world had lost its mind and death was being dealt out freely as the answer to the madness.

“Is everything okay?” Brigit asked as she turned to face John. His eyes were closed, as if he had taken the brief moment of Jean-Pierre’s departure to enjoy a nap. When Brigit’s voice penetrated his mind, his ice blue eyes opened and settled on her face. Brigit couldn’t help but to be concerned at the weariness she saw there.

“I believe so,” John answered. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

“Not really,” Brigit smiled, “but since you’re offering, I’ll bite. What are you doing here? How’s the Brazilian office?”

“That office is open for business, as they say,” John sighed. “The whole lot of them are crazy, but it appears they’re competent enough with the work to make a decent office. I had a hell of a time getting them to agree which language they would communicate in, though. It was especially tough when they would start to argue in Portuguese. I couldn’t understand a bloody, single word.” John shook his head in amusement. “At any rate, I think it will work out just fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“As to why I’m here, I wanted to confer with you regarding a personal matter.”

Brigit stiffened. She had tried so hard to separate her feelings regarding Maggie’s absence from home from the time she spent at work. Had her stress reared its head again? Who had brought it to John’s attention? As if he could read her mind, John started to laugh.

“For once, darling, it’s not your personal life we’ll be talking about. It’s mine, unless there’s something you need to discuss?”

“No, no, I’m good,” Brigit assured him. She relaxed in the seat and crossed one leg over the other at the knee. “What’s on your mind?”

4: Maggie’s Request

Sola hurried toward the café. She hoped she wasn’t too late. Maggie had said she would wait as long as she could…

The cab driver had taken his time driving Sola home from the airport to her apartment in The Village. At five A.M., she had entered just in time to hear Maggie’s voice recording on the answering machine, asking her to please meet her at the coffee shop on the corner of 2nd Avenue and St. Mark’s Place, that it was important, that she would wait as long as she could before absolutely had to make her way to work at six-thirty. Sola had sat down on the sofa and closed her eyes for just a minute.

The coffee shop was just around the corner. Sola was sure Maggie wouldn’t be there at five in the morning despite the fact that she was obviously up and about. Maggie lived on the upper west side. It would take her some time to reach the designated coffee shop, even though it was out of her way to come this far down. The elementary school where Maggie had taught for the past ten years was in mid-town. Yes, coming this far down in Manhattan was definitely out of her way.

All this briefly passed through Sola’s fading consciousness as she relaxed her breathing. It had been a long trip from the United Kingdom. Family business had taken her to the ancestral home and then there had been some business about the school to deal with at the main headquarters. It had been a trip crammed with must-do’s and before Sola had found a moment to relax it was time to board a plane and make the long trip home. She had tried to sleep during the flight, but a rambunctious toddler and the snoring man beside her had kept her firmly awake. It was just as well, she had told herself. She couldn’t bear the images of her dreaming lately and the thought of such vivid dreams in the proximity of strange witnesses made her uncomfortable. She consoled herself with the thought that she would have time to rest once she was home. The school wasn’t expecting her back for two more days. There would be time…

The thought of time brought Sola upright. Her eyes immediately sought out the clock on the mantle. The hands pointed to the southeastern quadrant of the face. The sight of it yanked her off the couch and sent her running from the apartment without regard to her appearance. As she ran, she prayed that Maggie would wait just a few minutes longer. The woman had asked to speak to her. It was obviously something important. Sola had committed herself to meeting with Maggie without saying a word. It was part of a promise she had made to Brigit Malone after the episode of Maggie’s kidnapping. There was no way Sola could have ignored Maggie Devon’s request with a clear conscience.

Maggie sighed heavily and glanced at her watch. She had taken a chance by calling Sola so early, knowing it was something she had to do. She hadn’t seen Sola, much less spoken to her, in almost a year. Their last crossing of paths had been at Tom’s New Year’s Eve party. That had been the night Maggie’s life had changed once again. That night had brought a new visitor to her heart. That night had brought her to this moment where she had left her new lover’s embrace in a warm bed to venture out into the chilled morning that was finally whispering promises of a delightfully cold winter.

Maggie had been wrestling with this moment for over a month. Her heart had been divided with the knowledge that it was what she needed to do if she wanted to feel any sense of happiness again. She had loved Brigit with every ounce of her being, and there were days when she could still feel the presence of that love. Yet, the brutal truth remained in the fact that Brigit was gone. Her death on Halloween night five years past had cut off the spring that fed the well of Maggie’s happiness.

There had been a brief break in the grieving after the episode of Maggie’s coma. It had brought so many things to light, to her understanding of unseen things and the knowledge that Brigit was still with her. Her understanding and her dreams, however, did little to alleviate the loneliness. The fact that she started her day alone – as she had every day for the past five years – left her in an emotional limbo that she had not recognized until the night she had met Gina.

Gina Ambriglio was charming. Her smile could hold Maggie’s attention from across the room, and there was something about the tall Italian woman that reminded Maggie a little of Brigit. What it was, Maggie could not have said; but she knew she couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. Once Gina had finally introduced herself and engaged Maggie in a conversation that lasted until the very last second of the year, Maggie was unaware when her thoughts of Brigit disappeared. At the stroke of midnight, cheers went up and people kissed whomever happened to be nearest at hand. Maggie and Gina, caught in a moment of wondering what would be appropriate toward one another, simply smiled and shared a hug. Maggie felt a familiar strength in the other woman’s embrace as she rested her head briefly against Gina’s neck. As Gina’s voice joined in with the rest of the room for a round of Auld Lang Syne, Maggie could hear a heartbeat. It was a sound she had not heard in so long. She had not realized it until that moment.

The relationship was eleven months old now. They had taken their time with it and their patience had paid off. Gina had listened to all the details of Maggie’s previous love, her life after Brigit’s death and even the sequence of events that had happened during Maggie’s coma. Despite the strangeness of it all (to Maggie’s amazement) Gina had fallen in love with her and Maggie found herself reciprocating the feelings she was now awash in. The relationship was solid. It was serious and Maggie knew it was time to ask the past to leave so she could engage in the future whole-heartedly.

Maggie stared hard at the face of her wristwatch. Gina had given it to her as a birthday gift. On the back, pressing against her flesh was the inscription: For you, I have time…

It had been a joke at first. Gina was constantly on an overloaded schedule with her work as a magazine editor. When Maggie would call to invite her to dinner or an impromptu lunch date, she would always inquire as to whether Gina had time. Gina’s response had always been a laugh and the reply that was now pressed against her wrist. It had become a promise. Whatever Maggie needed to work through, Gina would be patient.

The hands on the watch indicated it was too close to six-thirty. Maggie needed to get going to be to work on time. Unsupervised first graders never looked good for a teacher no matter how long they had been doing their job. Besides that, it was common knowledge amongst her peers that she had entered a new relationship. The jokes that would fly her way in the teacher’s lounge would be embarrassing if she were late. Sometimes, Maggie thought, the adults could be worse with their humor than any six year old could dream of being.

With a sense of resignation that her request would have to wait, Maggie quickly downed the remaining contents of her coffee and rose from the small table to weave her way through the flow of commuters that had herded in for their traveling cups of courage. If she were lucky, she would catch a bus running early. As she stepped out of the warm café and onto the sidewalk, Maggie stiffened against the chill that greeted her.

“Maggie, wait!”

She turned to face the direction from which she had heard her name called. She was surprised, and relieved, to see Sola DuLach racing along the sidewalk toward her. The woman’s auburn hair streamed from her head like banners in the wind with the speed she ran toward Maggie. She wondered if Sola had run the whole way…

“Sola! I was afraid you weren’t home.”

“I wasn’t,” Sola gasped. “I mean, I was, but I was just coming in as you were leaving your message. I’m so sorry I’m late. I sat down for just a minute.”

Maggie watched the other woman as she gulped in the chilled morning air and pushed her hair back from her face. The look of worry did not leave Sola’s expression despite the effort she made to catch her breath.

“It’s okay,” Maggie laughed. “Can we talk and walk at the same time?”

“Of course. What did you need to talk to me about?” Sola asked as she took one last big breath and exhaled it before turning and falling into step with Maggie as she walked toward the bus stop on the next block.

There was no time for idle pleasantries. In a way, Sola was glad. She didn’t want to explain why she had been away to Maggie. It wasn’t that she did not trust Maggie Devon. It was more along the idea that Maggie was still relatively naïve to the workings of Sola’s world and a tale about meeting a High Priestess on an island that existed only in legends would have wasted what little time Maggie had to speak her mind. Besides, it had been almost a year since their last real conversation. Sola didn’t feel as though they were close enough for some topics of discussion.

“I have a favor to ask. I need your help with something.”

“Okay,” Sola replied as she quickly tried to imagine what she could possibly help Maggie with. Her mind drew blanks, but she knew it was only because she was still reeling with the excitement of being late.

“I need to somehow talk to Brigit. I need to ask her to back off, to stop coming around.”

Sola stopped walking. It caused Maggie to stop as well and face her companion. The look of confidence on Maggie’s face told Sola that she had already given her request ample thought.

“You’re in love with Gina, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“How serious is it?”

“Serious enough that I want her to live with me. Gina’s lease is up at the end of the month and I’d like to ask her to move in with me, but the energy of three can be a bit uncomfortable. I don’t think it would be fair to ask Gina into a space where she’d be competing for a place she’s earned, you know? I’m okay now. I need Brigit to know that. I need for her to let go of her promise.” Maggie’s voice was calm and firm as she spoke.

“Have you tried telling her this yourself?” Sola asked.

“No,” Maggie admitted as she turned and looked at the bus stop across the street. “I haven’t been home when she’s there. I’ve been with Gina. I’ve been thinking about this ever since Gina told me the lease on her apartment was ending. Sola, please, I need to talk to Brigit. I need to know that she understands what I have to do.”

Sola eyed the other woman for a few seconds. She could see the many nights Maggie had lain awake in her new lover’s arms, wrestling in her soul over the thought of what she needed to do for the chance to be happy again. As she looked into Maggie Devon’s brown eyes, Sola could see the memories of that fight etched across her soul.

“I’ll contact Brigit and see if I can arrange a chat. I’ll call you when I have something,” Sola promised. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the bus Maggie needed to catch inching its way in the morning traffic toward the stop. “There’s your bus,” she commented.

“Oh, crap. Okay,” Maggie hugged Sola gratefully. “Call my cell phone when you know something. Thank you, Sola.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sola chuckled as Maggie pulled away.

She watched Maggie dash through the crowd and reach the bus stop just as the door was opening to the line already waiting. Maggie turned once and waved back to Sola before falling into the line and climbing aboard.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sola muttered again as she turned away and started a slow walk home.

5: Burn Out

“A vacation? You’re asking my permission to take a vacation? Really?”

There was a hint of a sarcastic grin playing at the corners of her mouth as she stared hard at John. John met the studious stare with a calm resolve. After five years, he had grown accustomed to Brigit’s hard stares when she was trying to determine what might be unsaid. John appreciated that habit in her. It had been quite useful in her assessment as a Reaper and even more so during the hiring of new Reapers. On occasion, John had found that he indulged in the habit as well. It reminded him that not everything was as it appeared to be. It was only after close inspection that things could truly be seen for what they were.

“I think it’s a good idea,” John answered calmly. “I’ve been going non-stop for over forty years now.”

“You have a good point,” Brigit agreed. Her gaze never left him and it did not soften. “So, why are you asking?”

“I’m asking, love, because it would mean a promotion for you. While I’m gone, you would be the Grim Reaper. You would be in charge. It’s a lot more responsibility that would require an even further division of your attention. Not only would you oversee the staff here, but you would need to check in on the other offices as well,” John explained.

“And Jean-Pierre? What of his duties?” Brigit had intuited that John Blackwick would not be going alone to wherever it was that he wanted to disappear to. She was aware that the two snatched any moment they could to be together. The Bailey’s work, however, was never done. It was because of the Bailey that a Reaper was a necessity to the afterlife.

“He has been training a small team of assistants for the last two weeks. Yes, your thoughts are correct. He would be going with me. His team would fall under your supervision as well.”

“Is there anything you haven’t planned?” Brigit laughed as she spoke.

“Only your consent to assume the helm.”

“When would you leave?”

“By the end of the week, if that is acceptable to you. Jean has a few more items to train his team on and I will need to alert the other offices to the changing of the guard – as it will be. That way, no one will be surprised when you show up instead of me, don’t you agree?” John asked as he pushed himself back from the desk and rose from the black leather chair he seemed to have melted into.

“Yes. I’m sure there might be a few assistants that would be uncomfortable with my presence if they weren’t warned ahead of time,” Brigit agreed as her mind brought forth the face of Madame Zapatos, the Assistant Reaper in charge of the office in Spain. “It will eliminate unnecessary drama.”

“I concur,” John smiled. “Now, I will leave you to the day’s business. You might want to think about who you want to fill in for you while all this is going on. I don’t want you stretched too far,” he advised. “You will need an assistant here.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Brigit assured him as she walked around the large desk and filled the seat her mentor had just vacated. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’m just going for tea,” John replied. “I’ll be back later.”

Brigit waved in reply as she reached for the stack of files Jean-Pierre had deposited on the corner of the desk. John smiled and exited the office, relief settling on his shoulders as he walked toward the main door. He had hoped Brigit would allow him the break. After forty plus years of constant reaping and the restructuring of the firm to boot, John Blackwick had started to entertain ideas of retiring as well. Retirement, though, was out of the question. Retirement would mean giving up the existence as a spirit and facing his final fate. Retirement would mean giving up Jean-Pierre and the relationship they had been trying to cultivate for so long now. A vacation, however long it would be, was the only solution. It would give him time to heal from the burn out he suffered and time to enjoy Jean-Pierre’s company without the interruption of duty.

Brigit sighed deeply as she began to read the first file in the stack before her. Her eyes focused on the important details. Her left hand placed it in the invisible box on the desk that she had assigned to each Reaper in charge of the various departments. Her mind turned over John’s plans. She didn’t mind them. She had often wondered when the day would come that John would make such a decision. She could feel his weariness sometimes. She wondered how long he would go until he reached a full burn out. Everyone had their limit. Apparently, after forty plus years of reaping and changes, John Blackwick had reached his.

“Are the assignments ready?”

Brigit looked up from the file in her hand and focused on the small Reaper standing just inside the door. It was Katuri-Buttercup. Brigit had been so involved with her thoughts of John that she had not heard the other woman’s approach.

“I’m just starting to sort them,” Brigit answered. “Come in, Buttercup. Have a seat,” she invited.

The small Reaper crossed the space and sat on the edge of the visitor’s chair in silence. Brigit had returned her sight to the file in her hand, but the energy emanating from the other Reaper felt odd. As if to double check what she feeling, she glanced at the small woman.

“How’s everything for you, Buttercup?” Brigit inquired as she set the file in Mama Dee’s invisible box and reached for another.

“All right,” Katuri shrugged.

“Are you sure? Is there something bothering you?”

“I’ve been very busy lately,” Katuri replied. “But I am well.”

“Do you need a break from your duties?”

“What do you mean?” Katuri inquired evenly. Was Brigit Malone offering an opportunity? Or was she unhappy with Katuri’s progress? The small Reaper was unsure.

“You sound tired,” Brigit pointed out. “I’m asking if you need to take a few days off, to rest and relax. That is allowed, you know?”

“Perhaps,” Katuri nodded. She had not considered the possibility of time to herself aside from what she already took between her self-imposed work hours. “That might be nice.”

Brigit glanced at the file in her hand, closed it and reached for another while stealing another quick look at her companion. John had suggested she consider enlisting someone to fill her seat while she assumed John’s responsibilities. Her first choice would have been Mama Dee, but Brigit knew the little old lady truly hated being in charge. After the chaos that had ensued during her charge of the office after Brigit’s recovery from an infection, Mama Dee had vowed to never assume that responsibility again.

Belinda Yaris was capable, but her delegation to the assistant’s chair meant her work in records would be neglected. After sitting the assistant’s chair for even the shortest amount of time, Belinda tended to become rather surly and bitter with the workload until she was caught up again. Brigit had discovered this happening after Pierce Nelson had transferred to the Russian office. Belinda had been put in charge for a day while Brigit assisted another Reaper with a big assignment. Upon her return, Brigit discovered Belinda in perhaps the darkest of moods she had ever witnessed the Goth girl to be in. She had heard a few tales from others that had borne witness to Belinda in this state, but Brigit had never believed it until she was face-to-face with it. The shock of it had urged her to consider finding Belinda “another fucking assistant, fast!” and to seriously weigh the idea of leaving the usually cheerful young woman in charge ever again.

Shelly Longmont had taken on the sole task of training new Reapers. While Shelly excelled in this new position, Brigit had yet to find one of Shelly’s students to be in possession of a quality of leadership. “The Worker Bees”, as she thought of them, were content to do their jobs and look for nothing more. Cornelius Hager had transferred to the office in Wales some two years ago. The climate, he had said, made him happy. Brigit could not imagine the quiet man that reminded her of a Victorian undertaker in a state of elation, but John often commented to just that when Cornelius happened to come up in conversation.

“I have an idea,” Brigit announced before picking up the last portfolio. “Finish your work for the day and then come back to see me. We’ll discuss a few changes that are coming up that I could use your help with.”

“What kind of changes?” Katuri inquired as she watched Brigit quickly scan the contents of the long black book in her hand.

“A promotion for me that will require someone to take over my duties while I’m out of the office. I think you’d do well in a different role for a while.”

“What about the Department of Dangerous Assignments?”

“Those assignments are not going anywhere. You would still have time to reap while sitting in my place, or we can temporarily assign it to another Reaper if you want to take a complete break from the department. Give it some thought and we’ll talk later,” Brigit suggested as she picked up the assignments she had designated for Katuri and extended them toward the small woman. Katuri simply nodded and accepted them before rising and exiting the office.

Brigit leaned back in her seat as she watched Katuri-Buttercup retreat down the hall. It was becoming apparent to her that John Blackwick was not the only soul suffering from burn out.

6: The Seed of Revenge

He eased the hammer of the rifle back until it clicked. With one eye closed, he leveled the sight directly center over the target’s heart. His hand was steady as he cradled the barrel of the rifle against the palm of his right hand, the index finger of his left hand rested lightly against the trigger. He took a deep breath as he rechecked his aim. Yes, he was dead center on the target’s heart. Just one more second and it would be another name he could toss into the pile of completed assignments. The target would never know what hit him…

The snap of a branch directly behind him startled him from his focus. Quickly he rolled over, swinging the rifle around to point at the intruder sneaking up behind him. The sight that met his eyes kept him from pulling the trigger. Annoyed, he looked over his shoulder. The target was gone, spooked by the noise that had been carried on the breeze. Disappointment caused him look to the sky. He had been tracking this one for almost a fortnight. He wondered how long it would take him to find this one again. That thought triggered his temper and he sprang to his feet.

“Goddammit, Daisy! I told you to stay by the creek!”

Daisy merely looked at him for a few seconds before snorting against his rudeness. The horse shook her mane and casually turned away from the irate hunter. At the sight of his horse standing with her back to him, he felt a sudden pang of guilt. Gently, he uncocked the rifle and leaned it against the rock he had been hiding behind.

“I’m sorry, Daisy. I didn’t mean to cuss at you. C’mon now, don’t be sore at me. I’m sorry,” he said as he ran his hand along her side and through her mane as he walked to stand nose-to-nose with the horse. “I didn’t mean to cuss,” he cooed as he pressed his cheek against hers. “Don’t be sore. I’ll mind my manners, but you’ve got to listen to me when I tell you to stay somewhere. I know you’re just watching out for me, but sometimes, I got to do this work alone. You see what I have to do to these people. I just couldn’t bear it if you got hurt when I was fightin’. I’d just die if I lost you, too. Do you understand what I’m sayin’? You’ve got to listen to me. Do you hear?”

He cocked his head back to look into the horse’s eyes. He could tell by the way she stared at him that she understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood. Gently, he stroked her nose and sighed. The conversation was done. The hunt for the day was over. There was nothing left to do but go home now and start again in the morning.

He looked to where the target had been standing in the clearing below, wondering if he should wait a few minutes to see if it would come out of hiding. He was sure, though, that the target had been scared and ran away. As he retrieved his rifle, he wondered once more how long it would take him to pick up the trail. Finally, he shook the thought from his head and slid the rifle into the sheath attached to Daisy’s saddle.

“All right,” he said as he reached up to grip the saddle horn and set his booted foot into the stirrup. “Let’s get on home and figure out what to do next.”

In a single heave, he hoisted himself into the saddle and adjusted the reins. Daisy turned her head quickly and snapped at his toes.

“Hey! What’s that for?” Daisy snorted again and flicked her tail in annoyance. “I said I was sorry! Don’t be such a nag!” the hunter grumbled.

With that, he urged Daisy into a gentle trot away from the place where he had lost his target.

Kit James kept one eye on the surrounding wood and one eye on the sky when he could see it. Dark clouds hang low in the north. The seasons were changing again. He had long ago lost count of the rotation, but the colors of the leaves always let him know when it was fall and the growth of new flowers told him when it was spring; but that was only if he were below the tree line. If he was in the higher elevations above the tree line, the passage of time could only be measured by the rising of the sun.

He had been a ghost ever since that day Ned Cadoc had pumped six bullets into his body. At first, Kit had been in awe that he had survived. He had thought he was only imagining how his body, and Daisy’s, might have looked lying dead in the rushing water of the icy cold creek where he had been panning for gold. After a few frustrating days of trying to find his younger brother Lenny on the main street of Alpina, Kit realized he had not been imagining what he had seen. No one could see him or hear him. And when Big Barney Olafson had returned to town with the news of Kit’s demise, Kit felt his bitterness settle in. The next day, Minister Stegmar had returned with the news that Leonard “Lenny” James had met the same fate as his brother, speculating that it had probably happened even earlier than Kit’s murder by the looks of things.

The town of Alpina had been sad over the minister’s news. They all loved young Lenny. He had provided a wisdom and light that belied his youth. Sometimes, Lenny even had more weight in matters than the minister did, especially if it really had nothing to do with God. He had been the unofficial sheriff, the peacekeeper of the small mining settlement and friend to just about anybody that crossed his path on any given day. Kit couldn’t help but to swim in the sea of pride he felt over his younger brother. Lenny had become a great man during the years they had spent apart.

When he heard the news that Ned Cadoc had gunned Lenny down days before sneaking up on himself, Kit felt his blood boil with rage.

Ned Cadoc was the biggest cur Kit had ever seen. Upon settling in Alpina, it was related to Kit how Ned Cadoc was out to get Lenny any way he could. The gun slinging gambler was seeking revenge for a moment of embarrassment. Lenny had belittled him in a saloon in Denver. Ned had pulled a gun on Lenny then, but the younger man didn’t flinch at the sight of it. Lenny James had shown his disrespect with his lack of fear. Unfortunately, Ned had been alone at that moment. His gang was still seeing to the horses in the livery. There was no one on his side to feed his bravado. When seven other men in the saloon came to stand behind Lenny, their weapons aimed at Ned, the gambler angrily declared that Lenny James would eventually get what was coming to him when he least expected it.

Kit had listened to the story, feeling his temper itching to flare at the thought of anyone threatening his brother. After everything they had seen and endured during the war years, Kit still felt an overbearing sense of protection for his kid brother.

Kit the ghost had lurked in the settlement for almost a year after Ned Cadoc had gunned him down. The seed of vengeance had been planted in his thoughts with the news of Lenny’s death. Kit watched the remaining settlers of Alpina as they went on with their lives, wondering the whole time why they hadn’t gone in search of Ned themselves. Hadn’t they loved Lenny enough to want to bring his killer to justice? Weren’t they tired of his incessant bullying and debauchery? When would they finally stand up to the black hearted cur that burned their barns and terrorized their women and children for ‘fun’?

It was the beginning of summer two years later that Kit found relief from the dark thoughts of vengeance.

He had stepped out on to the porch of the small cabin that served as the town’s drinking house. His hazel eyes immediately trained on the passing springboard wagon that bore the body of the minister’s wife in the back. Kit could see her mortal body, wrapped in the quilt that she had died under. He could also see her spirit sitting on the seat beside her grieving husband. As the wagon rolled by, the minister’s wife made eye contact with Kit. The surprise on her face mirrored the surprise he felt. He had finally been seen!

Kit had followed the wagon to the town doctor’s cabin. Mrs. Stegmar kept a cautious eye on him until the wagon finally stopped and her husband alit from the seat to carry her body inside for final preparations to be buried.

“Ma’am, can you see me?” Kit asked her. Unsure if she should speak, the minister’s wife nodded slowly. “You can? How long since you died? Have you seen anyone else? Have you seen my brother? Do you remember him? His name was Leonard James. Ma’am? Please, don’t go…”

Mrs. Stegmar had climbed down from the wagon’s seat and was now slowly backing away from Kit. The questions he fired at her remained unanswered as she turned and fled into the small cabin where her beloved husband had carried her body.

“Kit? Is that you?”

He whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. He thought his heart would explode with happiness of the sight before him. It was Lenny, looking exactly the same as he had the day he had left for Denver so he could trade in their gold. An easy smile was plastered across Lenny’s clean shaven face.

The brother’s reunion was joyous, even more so than the day Kit had arrived in Alpina. After the hugging and back slapping had finally seen its course, Lenny excused himself to enter the doctor’s cabin. Kit waited anxiously, wondering so many things, forming the questions he wanted to ask…

Then he heard the scream.

Like a bullet, he shot into the cabin in time to see Lenny closing a door. Kit looked around the single room to see Doc Harrison, Minister Stegmar and the body of Mrs. Stegmar, but not the spirit of the woman. Lenny looked sad as he turned away from the door that hang in the middle of the room, tucking a slender black book into the inside pocket of his wool coat.

“Where’s the minister’s wife?” Kit asked as his brother’s gaze fell on him. “Lenny?”

“Come outside, big brother. I’ll explain everything,” Lenny offered. Kit had taken one last look at the two men standing on either side of the body lain out on Doc Harrison’s table. Neither of them seemed to have been affected by the scream that had brought Kit inside. Had they not heard it?

Lenny ushered his brother out of the cabin and together they walked through town. Yes, Lenny had been killed as Minister Stegmar had related and, yes, Ned Cadoc had been the one to kill him before taking all the gold they had worked so hard to find. Lenny had not been surprised to hear that Ned had killed Kit as well. For as much as Ned Cadoc had hated Lenny, he had fear Kit even more. Ned had known Kit would exact his revenge once the news of Lenny’s death had reached him. He had planned all along to make sure that would never happen.

Lenny had sat still for a few days, bewildered by his new state of existence. That was when the old man had found him. His name had been Araxius. He had given Lenny a chance, offered him a job as a Reaper. Lenny had accepted the job, trained to do it and been sent back to the region to oversee the assignments of the area. Compared to the rest of the region surrounding them, Alpina was a relatively peaceful and healthy community. There had been little reason for Lenny to arrive before that day. He had not considered the possibility of his brother remaining in existence as a ghost. He had assumed the Bailey had already delivered Kit’s case and that it had been assigned to another Reaper. Lenny James had never stopped to really think about the Bailey’s inconsistency or lack of intelligence.

Kit listened in silence as his brother explained the work of sending souls to their final fates as they had been appointed by God. He half understood the explanations of doors and Limbo. His mind was reeling. At the end of it, Lenny posed a serious question.

“Do you want to help me?”

“Of course, I’ll help you. Why wouldn’t I?” Kit asked gruffly.

“Because if you didn’t, I’d have to let someone know they needed to cross you. I’d rather have you by my side in this, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case of trouble, I reckon. It happens sometimes in this job,” Lenny shrugged.

“You don’t need to worry about that, brother. I’ll watch your back,” Kit promised.

That was the day Kit James became a tracker, hunting down the names Lenny gave him – cornering the souls until his younger brother came to do his part of the job. Kit observed the proceedings, always mindful of the area surrounding them incase trouble came. When he would hear his brother say ‘May you find eternal peace’, Kit knew the job was done and it was time to move on.

This partnership went on for some ten years. Kit still harbored his plans for revenge and he prayed for the day when Lenny would get Ned Cadoc’s name. Kit had plans for that day.

In the eleventh year of their being ghosts, Lenny had given Kit the name of Jim Dougherty and sent him on his way. Lenny had received a stack of portfolios from the Bailey and something within them agitated him. Kit imagined it was the memory of how Jim had participated in their mortal demise and how he had caused the brutal end to their young friend Josie Gail, but he did not venture to ask his brother for the truth. Hunting one of the Cadoc gang boys was one of the days Kit had been hoping for. Jim Dougherty was a close friend to Ned Cadoc. He hoped he might persuade Jim to tell him something that would lead him to Ned’s door.

He had ridden Daisy well into the late morning, following the feeling that told him where to go. To his surprise, that feeling had led him back to the icy cold creek where he had died. Daisy had snorted in disdain when he paused to remember the scene. Kit imagined Daisy was remembering it as well. While his death in this place had been quick, the horse had suffered slowly.

Kit eased Daisy across the rushing water, sending out the call to his brother as to where he should meet him. He had dismounted and stepped toward the small opening in the rock Lenny had begun to dig when he had first staked his claim here. Kit leaned into the darkness. Someone had done more digging. He had the feeling he knew who, too.

“Jim Dougherty! Come outta there with your hands up!” Kit called into the darkness. He had heard shuffling inside. Someone was in the shaft. He only guessed it was Jim Doherty.

“Kit?”

Kit turned at the sound of Lenny’s voice behind him. He saw the movement behind his brother a second too late to be able to focus and react. It was Ned Cadoc, and he looked more evil than Kit had remembered.

“How many times do I have to kill you boys?” Ned sneered as he pressed the edge of his boot knife to Lenny’s throat.

“Let him go, Ned,” Kit growled.

“I’m afraid that can’t happen, Kit. I’ve been watching you James boys for about a year now. It took me awhile to find my way back and to figure out what you boys have been doing. Quite honestly, I don’t think there’s enough room in this life for all us,” Ned grinned as he spoke.

“Let Lenny go, Ned,” Kit said again. He tried to calm the anger in his voice. “We’re not after you today.”

“No, but eventually you will be,” Ned replied matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to take the chance my turn is coming. So, I’m gonna take care of this right here and now. Jim, come on out,” Ned called.

Kit was about to turn when he felt the sharp punch of the blade in his lower back. The sensation brought him to his knees as it raced up his spine. He looked up in time to meet Lenny’s eyes as Ned drew the blade across his throat. The black liquid that spilled from the opening in the blade’s wake told Kit that Lenny was a goner. From nowhere in particular, a mighty wind rose up around them. Kit forced his weight into his knees as the wind beat against him. Before his sight faded to black, he saw Lenny’s body break apart and disappear with the wind. Ned and Jim ran from the scene, sure that their existence in the afterlife was secure now. When the wind died down, Kit went limp and fell face down against the gravel of the creek’s bank. He heard Daisy approach, felt her sniff at him, felt her stand over him to make sure he would be protected. Before he passed out completely, Kit’s last thought was of revenge.

Kit guided Daisy through the town. So much had changed over the years. Some of the buildings had completely vanished with time, with the dying of Alpina as he had known it. Some were still standing, ghosts in their own right. Those buildings now bordered on being overcrowded with souls. New faces milled around the settlement on fair days. People dressed in wild colors, women showing off their bare legs, men wearing womanly colors of clothing that made Kit think they were in their underwear. The strange way they spoke, if they spoke at all, amused Kit. He did not reap them, though. He had the files Lenny had been given. None of the names on those books belonged to the people Kit now saw.

Until a few years ago, the books had piled up since Lenny’s second death. Kit had started working on them once he had recovered from his wound, but the going was slow and sometimes, the tracking of a particular soul took him into the mountains for days. He did not know all the proper procedures like Lenny had. He didn’t know what would bring the doorways out for the soul to cross through. He didn’t know he was supposed to read the file. All he knew was that they needed to be reaped and his only solution was to kill them again to be carried to God by the wind. It was all he could think to do.

7: Katuri-Buttercup’s Last Assignment

Katuri-Buttercup pulled the first file from the waist of her pants and opened it. Her almond eyes took in the location to go to while her mind turned over the suggestion Brigit Malone had made. It would be nice, Katuri thought, to do something different – even if it was only for a little while. Closing the file, Katuri opened the main door, and shut her eyes against the bright light of the portal while whispering the name of the town listed on the front page of the assignment’s portfolio. She quieted her mind long enough to travel through the light. A distracted thought might lead her off course, she feared. Today, there was no time to be wasted.

Opening her eyes, the small Reaper discovered that she had arrived into a dimly lit room. The walls were comprised of roughhewn logs stacked on top of each other, mud and straw filled the space between them like mortar between bricks. A small fireplace sat in the middle of the north wall. It was black with use, but Katuri could tell it had been many, many years since a fire had last warmed it.

She exited the room and stepped out into the late morning sun. The town of Alpina was stirring with souls. From where she stood on the raised porch of the small cabin that had received her, she could see that this town was a gathering place for lost souls. She hoped it wouldn’t take too long to find the one she had come for. The quicker she finished with the day’s work, the faster she could return to talk with Brigit. Knowing she could shorten her search time, Katuri removed the Field Guide from inside her shirt and opened it to the last page.

“Where is Ned Cadoc?” she asked quietly.

Within a second, the words appeared: The Drink House.

Katuri looked down the mud lined path that served as the street. Wooden buildings lined each side. Surely one of those buildings contained the soul of Ned Cadoc. She closed the Field Guide and set off to find The Drink House.

Ned Cadoc raised the shot glass of whiskey to his lips and downed the contents in one swallow before slamming the glass on the four by eight plank that served as the bar. He reached for the whiskey bottle Miller Brickman had set before him and poured another shot. He wished, just for a second, that he could taste the liquid – feel the burn – as it slid across his tongue and down his throat. It was a disappointment he had grown accustomed to over the last one hundred years, but it didn’t ease the pain of wishing.

Katuri stopped and read the sign over the small building that appeared to be the most occupied. She had seen a few souls enter, her gut instinct telling her that none of those entering were Ned Cadoc. At the far end of the road, she could see a man astride a golden horse riding casually through the town. Something about him held her attention for a minute. He was dressed in varying shades of brown. His trousers were tucked tightly into tall boots and his wool coat hang open to embrace the slight chill of the autumn morning. His brown beard and moustache glistened with sparks of red when the sun fell upon them. None of this was what held her attention, though. It was his movement while sitting atop the horse. He was scanning the scenery intently from the under the brim of his hat – as if he were hunting something in the trees that surrounded the small town.

Finally, Katuri turned her attention back to the small building and sighed. There was a job to be done.

Silently, she entered the drinking house. A few heads turned in her direction as she scanned the room.

“Excuse me,” Katuri glanced over her shoulder to see the man on the horse standing behind her. He had arrived quickly. Katuri-Buttercup found it odd, but quickly shook the thought from her mind. Spirits had a way of moving faster than one might imagine. “You’re blocking the door,” he pointed out.

Katuri stepped to the side and resumed scanning the room. As her sight settled on the lone man standing at the makeshift bar, she could feel the hunter glance at her as he stepped past. Ignoring the hunter (she was sure that was what he was) she stepped toward the man drinking at the bar. She did not know how she knew, but she was sure this was the subject of the assignment. The hunter’s eyes followed her intently.

“Ned Cadoc,” Katuri said gently. “It’s time to go.” To her surprise, Ned Cadoc merely glanced at her before he resumed drinking in silence. The glance in her direction confirmed his identity. “Ned Cadoc,” she repeated, this time with a little more force, “it is time to face your fate.”

“Sorry, kid,” Ned sighed as he picked up the whiskey bottle and tilted the mouth of it to the rim of the shot glass. “I don’t understand yellow people talk. You need to move on before you find yourself strung up by your thumbs.”

“Ned Cadoc,”

This time it was the hunter that spoke. Katuri turned to see him standing across the room, his rifle raised and aimed at the drinking man’s chest. Slowly, Ned Cadoc turned to face the hunter as well, a devilish grin on his dark face.

“Well, hello, Kit. I was wondering when I’d run into you again. What’s it been now? Eighty, ninety years?”

“Not soon enough is all I know,” Kit growled.

“You’re still mad at me, Kitten?” Ned laughed. “After all these years? It was all just business, you know. Survival of the fittest and all that. My fight was never really with you. It was your brother I had a beef with. You were just always around.”

“Shut up, Cadoc,” Kit barked. His sight remained focused on Ned, but a slight movement behind the bar played at the fringe of his vision.

“Really, Kitten,” Ned purred as he took a step toward Kit. “Let’s bury the hatchet.”

Kit watched Ned intently though he could also see the yellow girl (he was sure it was a girl) ducking between the two barrels that supported the plank. Determination was on her face as she crept toward Ned Cadoc. When she was a step away from him, a door appeared. Surprise and fear shot thought Kit James as he realized that Ned Cadoc was about to be taken by a Reaper…

“NO!”

Katuri felt the force pierce her breast. Slowly, her eyes fell down to the spot and saw the beginning flow of her life force staining the edges around the hole. Her hand opened, dropping the portfolio that bore Ned Cadoc’s name and the field guide she held behind it to the wooden floor beneath her small feet. Quickly, she called to her sacred image, calling the name she had carried in her heart for so many centuries. If this was her last moment, it was the face of her happiness she wanted to see.

As the winds of Limbo began to rise up around her, Katuri called out. Before her vision went blank, her happiness appeared. When the winds lifted her out from the small room that had been crowded with souls, Katuri-Buttercup felt the soft arms of her happiness embrace her as she whispered the name one last time: Moon Flower…

Kit opened his eyes as soon as the wind stopped howling. Ned Cadoc was gone. He had bolted from the room as soon as the winds had blasted from the walls to carry the yellow girl away. The other souls that had been sitting in the room emerged from their hiding places under the tables and resumed their seats. Kit looked to the bar. The yellow girl was gone. In the place where she had been standing lay two small books. Frustrated, Kit stalked across the room and scooped them up. He knew one of them was a file like the ones Lenny used to receive. He stared hard at Ned Cadoc’s name across the front. The Reaper had come for Ned, but Ned had managed to escape once again and Kit found himself quite sore with the thought of it.

8: Concern

Brigit surveyed the faces staring back at her as Jean-Pierre introduced each one by their full name. She would nod, shake their hand and smile before welcoming the new Bailey to the firm. There were seven new Baileys in all and Jean-Pierre had deemed it important that Brigit know each of them before he turned them loose in the world. She had been surprised by the sudden appearance of the crowd in her office, but after Jean-Pierre’s explanation, she had agreed with his thoughts despite the timing of it.

Brigit was pleased with the group. Jean-Pierre had chosen them himself and she noticed that each new Bailey, whether young in appearance – or old – male or female - carried an energy similar to his. They were gentle, compassionate and loving. When she shook their hands, she wondered what it would have been like to know them as mortals.

“And this, Brigit,” Jean-Pierre extended his graceful hand toward a stunning red-haired girl at the end of the line. She had entered the room last, but in Brigit’s bewilderment at being visited without notice, the red-head’s beauty had been missed. “Is Anya Travnikova,” Jean-Pierre said with a proud smile as Anya slipped her hand into the one Brigit had extended in welcome.

For a second, Brigit was speechless as she looked into the other woman’s sapphire blue eyes. The beauty before her was almost breathtaking.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anya,” Brigit finally said. “Welcome to the firm.”

“Thank you,” Anya replied with a hint of an accent. Her smile never faded.

“You’ve done well,” she praised as she assessed the faces once more, careful not to look too long at Anya Travnikova. “I’m impressed.”

“Merci, mon cher,” John-Pierre purred. “They are almost ready to work alone. A few more days,” he promised. “All right, we will leave you now. Thank you for indulging us.”

“Of course, Jean. My door is always open,” Brigit smiled as she watched the new Baileys begin to file out of the office at Jean-Pierre’s indication. Anya, she noticed, was the last to leave and was smiling at her when she finally turned to exit the room. Jean-Pierre waved good-bye as he followed the group out. Brigit shook her head to clear the image of Anya Travnikova from her mind. She had other things to think about.

Her internal clock was ticking away as it did every day. A concern was growing inside her as she felt the end of her work day approaching. Katuri-Buttercup had not returned to the office yet. Brigit had hoped to seal a deal with the small Reaper regarding a change in duties, but there had been no sign of her since that morning. It was extremely rare that Katuri-Buttercup did not return to the main office before sundown. Knowing this only added to Brigit’s concern.

The other concern plaguing Brigit with the encroachment of sundown was the wondering of whether Maggie would come home tonight. Brigit dreaded the thought of waiting all night in the empty apartment again; but she could see no other option. There was not enough work to justify spending the night at her desk. Aside from that, her presence in the office at such a late hour for no good reason would indicate the trouble at home. That was something Brigit was determined to keep as private as possible.

With these thoughts roaming freely, Brigit turned and began to straighten the files remaining on her desk. Shelly Longmont had not been in to collect her assignments either, but Brigit was aware that the woman was busy with a training session Shelly would make it in eventually.

A slight sound at the door caused Brigit to glance up. Belinda Yaris stood there, patiently waiting for the Assistant Reaper’s attention. When her bright blue eyes saw that Brigit had finally noticed her, Belinda stepped further into the room.

“Who were all those people?” she asked.

“Those people were the new Baileys. Jean-Pierre is training them to take over and thought it was a good idea to make some introductions,” Brigit explained.

“Why? I mean, why do we need new Baileys? Is Jean-Pierre leaving?” There was a frantic note in Belinda’s question. Brigit smiled. She could see the concern for the worst dancing in Belinda’s bright blue eyes.

“He’s not retiring, if that’s what you mean. No, he’s preparing to take a vacation, that’s all. He’s still the Bailey, but now he’ll be the Senior Bailey.”

“Oh, that’s good. I would be very sad if he were to go away forever. I like him. Did you see the redheaded girl? Wowee! If I were a lesbian, I’d be all over that like…”

“Belinda!” Brigit interrupted with laugh.

“What? She’s hot,” Belinda retorted. Brigit laughed again.

“While I can appreciate your appreciation of Miss Travnikova, I will appreciate it more if you can keep it to yourself. She will be around the office quite often and I don’t want any uncomfortable situations.”

“Uncomfortable for whom? You or me?”

“Any of us,” Brigit said firmly despite the smile still present on her face.

She stepped around the desk and crossed to where she had hung her coat that morning. As she shrugged into it, she thought once more about her concerns regarding Katuri-Buttercup. She looked to Belinda. The Goth girl kept a vigilant eye on the entrance of every soul to step through the door of the Reapers, Inc. office. If the small Reaper were to return, Belinda would be the first to know.

“If Katuri-Buttercup comes in, will you call me? I need to discuss something with her.”

“Sure. Are you going home?”

“No. I’m just going for coffee. I’ll be back to the office eventually I just want to take a break for a bit, but I need to talk to Katuri as soon as she returns.” Brigit did not elaborate on the point that she was not going home and Belinda did not pursue it.

“Bring me a cocoa when you come back, please?” Belinda requested as she followed Brigit down the main hall toward the front door. Brigit promised she would and stepped out into the fading light of the day.

She walked the few blocks to the Bleecker Street Café, her eyes taking in the life all around her while her mind started to relax from the tension of concern. When she came to the door of the café, she was feeling better. When she pushed it open, she actually smiled as she entered. Seated in a corner booth were Jean-Pierre and John. A quick look about the room told Brigit that the Bailey had dismissed his pupils for the time being. John waved her over to join them before turning to catch Giuseppe Cincotta’s attention. The big Italian waved in acknowledgment of Brigit’s arrival and turned to prepare a cup for her.

“Heading home, love?” John asked as Brigit slid onto the bench beside Jean-Pierre.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for Katuri-Buttercup to return. I’ve decided that I want her to sit my desk while I’m covering for you; but she’s been gone longer than she usually is and I’m a little worried.”

“Ah, well, you know how some Dangerous Cases can be, darling. If they don’t fight, they run until they’re cornered and then they fight. I’m sure Miss Buttercup has things completely under control,” John assured her as Giuseppe delivered the coffee he had made for her. Brigit inhaled deep of the steam that rose from the surface. The scent of a nut and spice undertone intrigued her. Normally, the coffee bore a sweet yet earthy scent. This brew was different…

“You’re probably right,” Brigit agreed before raising the mug to her lips and taking the first sip. In deep appreciation, she closed her eyes and savored the taste that glided across her tongue. Giuseppe Cincotta was a coffee brewing genius. “So, what are you boys planning for your little get away?” she asked as she returned the cup to the table top.

“We’ve been discussing that,” John smiled.

“I want to go to the opera,” Jean-Pierre offered.

“I’ve been suggesting a deserted island,” John countered.

“I don’t know why you won’t consider the opera, John. You’re being a stubborn, uncultured clod about it.”

Brigit quickly picked up her coffee and took another drink in the effort to hide her amusement. She was witnessing a disagreement between the two, but it was so civilized that it bordered on being silly.

“Darling, I assure you I am not uncultured. I simply think it would be far more relaxing to spend our days on a beautiful beach in the sun with no one around,” John explained.

“Bah!” Jean-Pierre spat. “For your information, cheri, there are no more deserted islands. The last one was inhabited some twenty years ago by someone wanting to relax. And do you know what happened? He turned it into a resort so all his friends could relax as well. I say the opera is the way to go. We can see a different one in a different city every night we’re gone.”

John’s ice blue eyes met Brigit’s briefly. He was aware that Jean-Pierre would not give in and give up the opera. Brigit could see that John was not going to give up so easily either. Despite his disdain for operatic society, she had the sense that John would broker some sort of compromise. Jean-Pierre was obviously unaware of John’s dislike and she wondered if he would eventually figure it out. She knew John wouldn’t readily admit it. He would do anything to make Jean-Pierre happy – even if it meant attending the opera.

“We’ll have to find a compromise,” John exhaled as he lifted his tea cup. Jean-Pierre shook his head in amazement at John’s sudden stubbornness. “How long did you say Miss Buttercup has been out?” John suddenly asked, purposely changing the subject.

“Since this morning. I gave her four assignments. She should have been back hours ago based on her past performance,” Brigit related.

“Perhaps you should do a quick search for her? Send a mental call?” John suggested.

“If she’s incapacitated, she won’t answer a call; but I think you’re right. A quick search won’t hurt anything. I have time,” Brigit agreed before downing the last of her coffee. She pushed herself off the bench she shared with the Bailey and leaned over to whisper in his ear. John looked confused as she pulled away. Jean-Pierre simply nodded his head in agreement. “If you go back to the office, will you take a cocoa back for Belinda?”

“Of course,” John agreed. “Let me know what you discover.”

“I will,” she promised before turning to head for the door. As she walked away, John saw her pull her field guide from her right coat pocket. When she disappeared into the portal, he settled his ice blue eyes on the beautiful face of his smiling lover.

“What did she say to you?”

“Compromise,” Jean-Pierre admitted softly as he reached across the table and took John’s hand.

9: Alpina

Brigit raised her head and looked around her. The fading rays of the afternoon sun fought to make their way into the room through small, dirty windows on either side of the door. She scanned the walls, roughhewn logs stacked one atop the other and cemented together with dried earth and straw. A long wooden table occupied the center of the room. Where had the portal deposited her?

Brigit softly closed the door she had come through. A pantry had received her, she noted before scanning the room again. She had asked the Field Guide to direct her to Katuri-Buttercup’s location. The portal had brought her here, but there was no sign that Katuri had been in the room. Confused, Brigit went to the door on the opposite side of the room. There had to be a reason for this. The Field Guide, nor the portal, had ever been wrong before…

Stepping out onto the small wooden porch, Brigit looked to her left. A mud covered path with a row of wooden buildings on either side reminded her of depictions of old west towns she had seen in the movies. She could see a few souls wandering about on the raised sidewalks that connected the buildings. By the variations of each soul’s dress, Brigit deduced that she was in an actual ghost town.

“Now what do I do?” she asked out loud.

“Who are you asking?”

Brigit whirled at the sound of the young voice behind her. Her dark eyes fell to the face of the kid standing just to the side of the small circle of Aspen trees a few feet away. There was a burlap bag in one hand and stick with a string tied to one end in the other. A rusted hook hang from the end of the dangling string. Brigit assumed it was a homemade fishing pole. The kid stared back at her as she examined him. (At least, she thought it was a boy...)

“What is this place?” Brigit asked.

“This is Alpina. What’s your name?”

“Brigit. What’s yours?”

“You can call me ‘Kid’.”

Brigit looked at the boy for a few seconds before turning to glance at the small village behind her.

“Do you live here, Kid?”

“Everyone does if they died anywhere near here. Are you new to town?” Brigit found the kid’s statement curious. He was aware of his surroundings – an intelligent spirit.

“Just visiting, really. I’m looking for a friend. Have you seen an Asian girl today?”

“What’s an Asian girl?” the kid asked. Brigit stared hard at her young companion. “I haven’t seen anybody today, except you. I’ve been down at the creek,” Brigit caught the way the kid pronounced ‘creek’ as ‘crick’. She remembered her mother’s family pronouncing it the same way. “Fishing for dinner. Ma said to stay there ‘til I had enough for everybody.”

“How many is ‘everybody’?” Brigit asked.

“There’s six of us all together, I reckon. We used to be seven, but pa had already passed away a few years before I did. My brothers are off doing whatever it is they do, so really, it’s just me and Ma. The boys never come home for supper anymore even though Ma acts like they’ll walk through the door any minute. That’s why she always tells me to stay at the creek ‘til I have enough for everybody. She don’t know it’s really just me and her,” the kid replied as he slung the bag over his shoulder. “Say, you want to come for dinner? We’ll have plenty extra. Ma won’t mind. She’s always happy to meet new folks. She says ‘you should never miss the chance to be kind to stranger on account they might just be an angel in disguise’.”

Brigit shook her head.

“Maybe another time, Kid. I really need to find my friend. Do you think anyone else might have seen her?” The kid shrugged.

“I don’t know. You can ask around in The Drink House, but good luck getting anyone to answer you. No one there likes to talk to strangers. Are you sure you don’t want some dinner? My ma really won’t mind.”

“Thanks, but yes, I’m sure.”

“Suit yourself,” the kid shrugged again. “If you change your mind, we’ll be in the second cabin at the top of the trail,” he pointed in the direction of the land behind the western row of buildings. A narrow path rose against the mountainside and disappeared into the trees. “Don’t stop at the first cabin, though. Kit James lives there. He’s mean,” the kid warned.

“Okay, thanks,” Brigit sighed before setting off toward the rows of buildings that formed the town.

“It’s the second cabin if you change your mind!” she heard the kid call after her. She raised a hand to acknowledge the final invitation and kept walking.

The Drink House was easy to find. The sign over the building announced its location, its letters barely touched by the erosion of time or the elements. She assumed this building, and perhaps every building in the town, had long decayed and been reclaimed by the wild surroundings. This was a ghost town. Every building on the street was going to look as it had been life had actually supported it.

Brigit focused her gaze on the building before her. She could feel the energy contained inside. This was the gathering place. If Alpina was the town where the spirits came for company, The Drink House was the spot to find that company.

She entered the small building and quickly scanned the room. A few pairs of eyes turned to register her presence, but it was only for a few seconds. She did not see Katuri-Buttercup in the room. After a few inquiries, Brigit realized the kid had been right. No one was going to help her. No one wanted to talk to the stranger. Frustrated, Brigit stalked out of the crowded room and stormed back to the small cabin she had arrived in. Her search had turned up nothing but a ghost town teeming with souls from generation upon generation of death. Questions aligned themselves rapidly as she entered the cabin and crossed to the pantry that had spit her out earlier. She needed to talk to John about this and she needed to talk to him at once.

10: John & the Message

His mind was racing with ideas as he walked back to the office. Jean-Pierre had consented to a compromise so long as John presented suggestions that involved doing something other than lying around on the sand. John had agreed to find those other suggestions so long as Jean-Pierre did not insist they attend the opera every night.

Ironically, John began to whistle the overture from “The Barber of Seville”. It was the only opera he could distinctly remember ever seeing. While he had not been overly impressed, the overture had stuck in his memory and was carried with him into death.

His whistling was cut short at the sound of his name being called. John turned in time to see a familiar face crossing the street toward him. An easy smile came to his face as Sola DuLach neared him.

“Sola, what a pleasant surprise,” John greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve come to see Brigit, actually,” Sola replied gently. John gathered from the tone of her voice that the Avalonian priestess was conscientious of her ability to see and speak to the unseen. She had come to visit in person, rather than spirit. “Is she in?”

“Actually, no, but I expect her to return soon. Would you like to come in and wait for her?” John offered with a wave of the hand that held Belinda Yaris’ promised cocoa.

Sola looked around her before shaking her head in rejection of the Grim Reaper’s offer. The sidewalk around them was busy with the living. Despite the obvious focus of the living on their own intentions, John could see Sola’s hesitance in risking the chance of someone actually seeing her disappear through a doorway that clearly was not there. As it was, she simply appeared to be another mentally disturbed person talking to the voices only she could hear. John was aware how easily the living accepted that sight. Excuses were always easier to reach than the truth…

“I’d better not,” Sola decided out loud.

“I understand. Is everything all right? Maggie’s not in trouble, is she?”

“No, she’s not in trouble, but she did send me to find Brigit. She needs to talk to her and I was hoping to arrange a meeting.”

“Oh,” John didn’t like the sound of this. He had the sense that a meeting brokered by the priestess would not bode well for Brigit. “I can let her know you came by. Where shall she find you?”

“I’ll be at home. I’ve not rested since I came home early this morning. I forget how long the flight from the UK can be sometimes,” Sola said wearily.

“You’ve been away?”

“Yes, school business and a matter with the ancestral estate. It’s amazing how quickly the energy level can crash once all the excitement is over. I feel as though I could sleep for a week.” John merely smiled.

“I’ll let Brigit know to find you,” he promised.

“Thank you, John.”

With that, Sola DuLach turned and walked away. John watched her until he could no longer differentiate her energy from that of the other mortals she had become lost amongst. A concern settled in the pit of his stomach as he walked the remaining few steps to the main door of the office. Sola had relayed her message to him. Now he had to relay it to the intended recipient. He wondered if there were personal matters Brigit had not aired to him that had culminated in this act from Maggie’s end. He had the feeling he knew what Maggie Devon was going to do. It was all he could do to hope for the best when Brigit acted on the request he knew Maggie was going to make of her.

It was bound to happen. John had tried to keep the probability present in Brigit’s thoughts during the last five years. Maggie was still alive. Eventually she would emerge from the grieving and find love again. Despite his casual remarks, John knew Brigit had sank into a deceptive comfort zone because Maggie had taken her time to properly heal – especially after the incident when Seamus Flannery had brazenly kidnapped her soul in the successful attempt to lure Brigit into a fight.

As he let himself into the office, John wondered again if Brigit had begun to see the signs of Maggie’s progression with life. She hadn’t mentioned as much, but John was sure that topic of conversation and the lack of it was merely because he had been absent from the office so much. Any time he and Brigit could spare in their duties for conversation was usually spent discussing work. There had simply been no time for discussing matter so close to their hearts…

The concern weighed so heavily on his thoughts that he failed to notice that Belinda Yaris did not emerge from her office to greet him. He was too busy wondering how Brigit was going to react to the meeting with Maggie to register the commotion coming from within the office at the opposite end of the hall. It was only when he stood in the doorway that he let those wonderings go.

Standing at the large mahogany desk, flipping roughly through the pages of a record book was Brigit. Against the left wall, John found Belinda Yaris yanking books from their eternal resting places and quickly piling them on her arm.

“What is going on here?” John asked, surprised at the intent energy surrounding the two women. Belinda froze at the sound of John Blackwick’s voice, the look of surprise on her face revealing a fear that they may have been caught doing something they had no business doing. John ignored the Goth girl’s expression and leveled his attention on Brigit as he held the cocoa out toward Belinda to take. Brigit had not paused in her search for whatever she was looking for.

“We’re looking for something,” Brigit stated before slamming the book before her shut and motioning for Belinda to bring her more.

“That’s obvious, Brigit,” John replied. “May I ask ‘for what’?”

“A place,’ Brigit muttered as she opened the book on top of the pile Belinda had set on the desk. As soon as she was free of the load on her arm, Belinda liberated the cup of cocoa from John’s outstretched hand and took a quick sip.

“Were you able to find Miss Buttercup?”

“No.”

“That’s distressing,” John pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “I bumped into Sola DuLach outside just a few moments ago. She was looking for you, Brigit. If I had known you were back, I would have brought her in.” Brigit grunted as she continued to speed-read the ancient pages of the book before her. “Perhaps I can help,” John offered when it was apparent she had more pressing matters on her mind. “What is the name of this place you’re looking for?”

“Alpina,” Brigit replied, turning the page and running her forefinger down a column.

“Alpina, Alpina, I know that name,” John chanted as he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and searched his memory. When he found the fragment he was seeking, he began to nod fervently. “Yes, Alpina, Colorado. This was before my time, mind you, but we had a small branch office there up until about eighty years, or so, ago. It was run by a lad named Leonard James,” John explained.

“James?” Brigit looked up at him.

“Yes. Is that name familiar to you?” John inquired as he paused in his path to fill the empty visitor’s chair before the desk.

“A kid I spoke with mentioned someone named ‘James’, but it wasn’t Leonard,” Brigit replied. “What happened there?”

John reached the visitor’s chair and sank into it before motioning for the women to sit as well. Belinda immediately occupied the other visitor’s chair, grateful to enjoy her cocoa without having to set it down. Brigit remained on her feet, her dark eyes locked on him.

“I don’t know all the details, but the branch was in operation for a short time before Araxius declared it abandoned.”

“Abandoned? Why?” Brigit persisted.

“Apparently, young Mr. James disappeared and took the files allocated to him with him. It was a mystery to everyone because no one could find out what had happened. The little cabin Araxius had designated as the office had been completely cleaned out. No files, no ledgers - only the portal remains,” John sounded flabbergasted even though the story was decades old. “But, again, this all transpired before my time,” he reminded.

“I know the cabin you’re talking about. It’s where I ended up when I directed the portal to take me to Katuri’s last location. There was no trace of her, though. I asked some of the spirits in the saloon if they had seen her, but no one would talk to me. Did Araxius keep the files of the Reapers handy prior to their mass retirement?”

“Yes, he kept them there in the top drawer of the storage cabinet behind you. When he gave everyone their options, he practically cleaned it out. There were only a handful of files still there when I was handed the company. I never took the time to read them and I’ve just been storing the new Reaper’s files on top of those.”

As he spoke, Brigit turned and yanked open the top drawer of the file cabinet. She scooped out the files John had been storing there. Three armfuls later, the files lay scattered on the large mahogany desk.

“Belinda, let’s see if we can find Mr. James,” Brigit instructed as she finally sat in the tall leather chair behind her. John could barely see her head over the mounds of books and portfolios. Belinda merely glanced at him before pulling her chair closer and reached the nearest edge of the pile. “John,” Brigit’s voice lifted over the mound, “you said his name was ‘Leonard’?”

“I did,” John confirmed. “Brigit,” he suddenly remembered Sola DuLach and the message she had delivered. “You need to pay a visit Sola. She’s delivered a message that Maggie would like to have a conversation with you. I think it’s safe to assume it’s rather important if Maggie sent Sola to seek you out.”

Brigit stopped working and looked up, staring hard at John over the crest of the pile before her. Sensing the abrupt change in energy, Belinda stopped working as well and looked from one solemn face to the other on both sides of the desk.

“Did she say what Maggie wanted to talk about?”

“No, only that Maggie needed to talk to you,” John related calmly. He was trying to read the thoughts behind the dark gaze that stared at him. Brigit had mastered the trick to shielding her thoughts, however. The student had surpassed the teacher. John could not break through. “I think it’s business you should tend to at once,” he suggested quietly.

“Deal with it and be done?” Brigit asked, a note of sarcasm floating lightly through the words.

John nodded in agreement, causing his assistant to sigh heavily. Finally, her shield faded and John caught a glimpse of the fear Sola’s message had inspired. His previous wondering had been answered. Brigit had seen the signs. She had simply been avoiding them, keeping them secret so she could pretend they weren’t happening. Now, she had to confront them. Maggie was demanding it. John felt sorry for her.

“Fine,” Brigit declared as she pushed herself away from the desk and rose from the chair. “Belinda, please continue searching for Leonard James’ file. Once we find that, I believe we can resume the search for Katuri.”

“What makes you think there’s a connection?” John asked as Brigit pulled her long black coat around her shoulders and snapped her arms into the sleeves before buttoning it up.

“I don’t know, but something is telling me it’s a sure start. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promised. She plucked her umbrella from the can by the door and disappeared from the room.

Once the echo of her boots finally fell silent, John and Belinda looked to one another.

“Maggie’s breaking up with her, isn’t she?” Belinda asked quietly.

“I’m not sure, but I can imagine it will be something along those lines,” John admitted. “I was just the messenger.”

“This is so going to suck,” Belinda sighed as she began to pick up one portfolio after the other.

John sighed in agreement and reached for the edge of the pile closest to him. Belinda was right, in her own quaint way. Things were about to be uncomfortable where Brigit would be concerned. He knew as well as Belinda did that Brigit was not going to take this well. Even if she managed to mask her feelings when going through the day-to-day operations, she would not be completely successful around those who knew her best. John, Belinda, Mama Dee and whomever else might be close enough to feel Brigit’s energy easily would know the sadness on her heart. There would be no getting away from it until she was finally numb to it.

“Yes, this is indeed going to suck,” John grumbled.

11: Kit & the Kid

Kit rubbed his eyes and closed the small book in front of him. He couldn’t make any sense of it.

It had been a surprise to find Ned in Alpina. For so long, it seemed the cowardly man only dared to show his face when Kit was gone away on long hunts. He was always annoyed to hear that Ned had been around during his absence. Yet, Kit had seen him with his own eyes today, looking every bit the way he remembered Ned to look. The dark hat and overcoat Ned had been so proud of appeared to have been unscathed by time. Even his fancy black boots were pristine in their appearance. Not even a scuff on the toe marred the shiny leather. His lean face still bore the faint shadow of stubble that had most likely been properly shaved before Ned had left Denver. Remembering Ned’s near perfect image made Kit frown all the harder. Eventually, he shook it from his mind and approached the next thought.

The yellow girl had come for Ned Cadoc. He had seen the door appear to her right, just as it used to do when Lenny went after a soul. It had startled him and Kit had allowed his sense of revenge to take control. It had been his fear of vengeance unsatisfied that had pulled the trigger and caused the yellow girl to be carried away with the winds. Ned Cadoc had bolted out the door with the wind. Kit had missed his chance to satisfy his revenge. As a result, he had killed a soul that didn’t deserve to die that way. His vengeance remained unsatisfied.

The yellow girl had dropped two books when the winds had carried her away. Kit had scooped them up, recognizing the one with Ned Cadoc’s name across the front. The other book was a mystery, though. The Rules to Reaping Souls seemed to be a rule book of sorts, but Kit could make no sense of it. He recognized the author’s name, but he could not fathom the purpose of the book beyond reminding a Reaper of the rules. He knew it had to be something important, though.

During the first few weeks of their reunion as ghosts, Lenny had tried to explain the ins and outs of reaping and had repeatedly told Kit that he was a ‘Reaper’. At the time, all Kit could think of was their childhood summers spent reaping acre upon acre of hay on the family farm. At the time, Kit had merely nodded as if he understood his younger brother’s words. He never bothered to ask for deeper meanings. Now he was wishing he had. He had taken for granted that he would have all the time of eternity to figure out his brother’s work. He had not realized time could be snatched away on this side of life as well.

Kit sighed heavily and made a reach for the book again when he heard it. His hand froze in mid-air as he waited, hoping to hear the noise again. When it didn’t come, he let his hand fall to the small book on the table.

“Just the wind,” he murmured to himself.

Dusk had fallen some two hours before. It was not uncommon for the night winds to come rushing down the side of the mountain behind the small cabin. Even though he and Lenny had built the small, but steady, structure before their deaths, Kit was aware its sturdiness was tested and questioned every night by the wind.

He had opened the book’s front cover once more when he heard it again – this time it was loud enough to be recognizable. Daisy had whinnied, but it was not a casual whinny. Kit knew his horse well enough to know the different tones to her various forms of communication. The tone he heard this time had been a note of annoyance. Kit jumped up from the chair he had been sitting in and rushed to the door, snatching his rifle up as he opened the door and stepped outside. His first thought was of the mountain lion he had seen roaming through the trees a few days prior. It was a big cat, stopping to sniff the air for the scent of the ghost horse that stood nervously a mere two dozen paces away. The lion had not seen them despite the fact he could smell them. As he crossed the yard from the cabin to the small outbuilding where Daisy was lodged, Kit wondered if the cat had tracked their scent across the mountain to here and might be prowling the plot of earth where Daisy’s stable had once been.

Daisy whinnied again. It was still a note filled with annoyance. He noticed the absence of fear and slowed his pace toward the small shed. There was only enough room for Daisy to make herself comfortable in the building. If anything or anyone else were inside with her, Kit knew she would definitely be annoyed.

Slowing his stride to a creep, Kit strained his ears. That was when he heard it, the gentle sob from within. Silently, he stepped to the door that had been unlatched and pulled it open an inch. He strained his eyes to see inside the darkness. Once they were adjusted to the lack of light, Kit clenched his jaw in his own form of annoyance. Huddled in the corner, sobbing against arms lain across knees bent up to the chest was the kid that lived in the cabin further up the trail.

With a quick and fluid movement, Kit yanked the door open and reached in to snatch the kid up by the back of the shirt. The sobbing immediately turned to screams of terror as Kit held the kid in one hand and his rifle in the other while marching back to the cabin. He was unconcerned with Daisy’s door being left open. She was as much a ghost as he was. The horse wouldn’t go anywhere without him.

The kid kicked and fought against him as he pushed open the cabin door and tossed his catch inside. The kid tumbled in a sprawl of skinny legs and arms as Kit slammed the door shut behind him.

“Goddammit, Josie! How many times do I have to tell you to stay outta Daisy’s stall?”

The kid stood and began to wipe its face across a sleeved arm.

“I’m sorry, Mister James. I’ll go home,” the kid whimpered without looking up at the adult. Kit stared hard at his uninvited guest.

“No you won’t,” Kit decided. “You’re gonna sit your ass at the table and tell me what you’re cryin’ about. You’re too old to be snivelin’ like you are. Stop it,” Kit commanded. The kid hiccupped a couple of times as it approached the wooden chair Kit had pointed to. The man planted his hands on his hips and watched the youngster intently. “Now, what’s your problem?”

“My fish were gone,” the kid explained between hiccups. Kit groaned audibly as he sank into the chair he had vacated earlier.

“How many times do I have to explain this to you?” The kid looked up at Kit. “Don’t you remember anything about that day? It’s always the same, Jose. You’re gonna go fishin’ tomorrow and just like always, you’re gonna get home and your fish will be gone. It’s been the same for the last hunert years. It’s not goin’ to change. So you need to stop cryin’ over lost fish.”

It was an irritatingly familiar speech. It was familiar because at least once a month, Kit would catch the kid crying in Daisy’s stall for the same reason that had just been presented. It was irritating to him because he was aware of the kid’s intelligence compared to the other souls that made up most of the town’s population. Josie went about repetitive routines because that had made up her days of the past. The only thing different about the routines was that the kid noticed differences and reacted to them when they happened. At times, Kit wasn’t sure what irritated him more – the routines, or the fact that the kid was intelligent.

“I thought today would be different,” Josie sighed, wiping the back of a hand across the cheek to catch a tear that wasn’t there.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I saw the lady outside old Doc Harrison’s place. I ain’t ever seen her before. She could see me too. I thought on account I seen someone new that everything would be different this time.”

Kit stared hard at the kid sitting across the table from him. His irritation gave way to his curiosity. He too had seen a new face in the town today. What was happening that would bring visitors to Alpina?

“A lady? What did she want?” Kit asked.

“She was looking for someone, called an ‘Asian girl’. What’s an ‘Asian girl’, Mister James?” Josie looked up to watch the man think about the question.

“It’s a girl from Asia,” Kit answered.

“What’s ‘Asia’?”

“China,” Kit replied, feeling his irritation starting to return. “If you would have stayed in school, you’d know this,” the man chastised.

“I can read,” Josie responded bitterly.

“I know that,” Kit argued back. “You just should’ve stayed in school. That’s all I’m sayin’. Now, what else did the lady say?”

“Nothin’, really,” Josie shrugged. “She said she had to find her friend even though I invited her to supper. She said ‘no’, so I told her to go to The Drink House even though I know folks don’t talk to strangers there. I went home after that. Do you know who the lady is, Mister James?”

Kit turned his sight to the fire blazing in the hearth. His mind was racing. He had seen the Asian girl today. He had shot her. Kit wondered how long it would be before others came looking for her as well. He wondered what kind of trouble his desire for vengeance was about to bring to his door.

“Mister James?”

Kit returned his attention to the kid.

“What?”

“Do you know who the lady is?”

“No, I can’t say that I do, but I tell you what; the next time you see her, you come get me. Okay?”

“Sure,” Josie agreed despite the curiosity that was beginning to grow. She wanted to ask him why, but she could tell that Kit James’ mind was racing a mile a minute and she knew all too well how cranky he could be when he was trying to think that fast.

“Now, go on home before it’s too dark to see. It’s not safe for girls to be out when it’s dark,” Kit warned gently. Josie bristled at his words.

“I can take care of myself!”

“Now, Josie, I didn’t mean –“

Kit was cut short in his attempt to smooth his young companion’s feelings by her abrupt exit of the space. The door was slammed so hard after her that it bounced off the jam and swung open again. Sighing heavily, Kit rose and went to close the door gently. His thoughts were turning Josie’s tale over and over. He wondered what it all could mean.

12: Sola’s Request

Brigit stood outside the apartment door. A shroud of dread hovered about her, ready to drape itself across her shoulders. She had a firm feeling where this meeting would eventually lead and she resented it. As she stared hard at the door before her, she briefly considered turning around and walking away. She could make up a dozen stories on her way back to the office. She knew John would ask questions. Could she outright lie about it all and keep up whatever lies she told? If the message were so important, why didn’t Maggie just deliver it herself? Why the need for a messenger? Why involve Sola DuLach in such a private affair?

With a deep sigh, Brigit released the thought of walking away. She already knew the answers to the questions that she fired through in her mind. Sola DuLach was the bridge Maggie needed between the world she existed in and the world Brigit traveled through. Sola DuLach could see the unseen and provide the voice Maggie seemed desperate to hear.

Without knocking, Brigit entered the apartment that Sola called ‘home’. She was surprised to see the darkness inside. It was eight o’clock at night by the time she could make out on the clock’s face that rested on the mantle over the bricked in fireplace. She had automatically assumed Sola would have the lights on.

Brigit called Sola’s name quietly, straining her ears for the slightest sound of Sola’s presence. All she could hear was the gentle hum of the appliances in the kitchen and a gentler inhale of breath followed by an even gentler exhale into the darkness. Feeling along the wall beside her, Brigit located a light switch and turned it on. Sola was asleep on the sofa, an arm raised over her head in seeming proof of troubled sleep.

Quietly, Brigit approached the sofa. She debated on waking the woman. She could see the shadow of exhaustion on Sola’s face. The woman was in serious need of rest. Brigit was about to agree with the decision to return tomorrow when she saw Sola’s eyes open for half a second.

“It’s really annoying to be stared at when you’re trying to sleep,” Sola grumbled as she rubbed her face with both hands. She had only been asleep for an hour before feeling the presence now standing over her. “Especially by a ghost.”

“I apologize, Sola,” Brigit responded calmly. “I was debating on whether to wake you or to come back tomorrow.”

“Let me guess which argument won,” Sola sighed. “Why are you here?”

“I received your message. Maggie wants to talk to me?”

Sola opened her eyes and stared hard at the dark woman standing over her. Message? Maggie? Why wasn’t the fog lifting from her mind as she pushed further into consciousness? Was she that tired?

“Oh, yes,” Sola finally remembered the morning’s meeting. “She called me this morning. Yes, she does want to talk to you.” Sola sat up and swung her feet to the floor. Her auburn hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders as she rubbed her face once more. “She needs to know that you will understand what she has to say.”

“I see,” Brigit sighed. Every thought was confirmed in that statement. “When does she want to have this chat?”

She bit her tongue too late. The note of resentment had snuck out under the fence.

“Brigit, she’s not doing this to hurt you,” Sola started. Brigit kept her silence, but looked away. “Maggie remembers what you had together, but it’s been five years. It’s time for her to feel again. Would you really deny her the chance to be so happy again? I mean, obviously you know what the topic of conversation is going to be. Just hear her out, for her sake.”

“I would deny Maggie nothing. I never have,” Brigit growled, her hand tightening around the handle of the black umbrella she carried. She didn’t like how Sola’s words caused her to feel as if she had been behaving like some sort of tyrant toward Maggie. Sola did not intend to cause harm, Brigit knew that. Yet, the words had been said and she felt what she felt. That was just how it was.

“Then you’ll meet with her – listen to what she wants to say?” Sola asked gently.

“I will. Arrange the meeting and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll contact you as soon as I can, Brigit.”

“You know where to find me. Get some rest, Sola,” Brigit’s tone softened toward the priestess as she reached out and turned off the light above them. “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she turned and left the apartment. As she entered the darkness of the night that had settled over the outside world, she felt the shroud of dread turn into despair before it landed softly on her shoulders.

13: Mama Dee

Belinda seized the portfolio she had spied as it slid with the others toward the floor. She had barely glimpsed the name across the front before it was set into motion by the phantom force of gravity. A triumphant grin came to her face as she took a better look at the golden letters etched across the cover: Leonard James.

“Did you find it?”

Belinda’s bright blue eyes focused on the figure standing in the doorway. Brigit had returned and by the look on her dark face, Belinda could see that her mood had not lightened.

“Yes, here it is. Leonard James,” Belinda answered, holding the portfolio out for Brigit’s inspection.

“Good,” Brigit took the file and slipped it into her coat pocket. “Where’s John?”

“He was called away to St. Petersburg. He promised to return soon,” Belinda explained as she stood and began to gather the remaining portfolios. She shuffled and pushed them together until they were in a neat stack before reaching to gather more. “So, do you think something has happened to Buttercup?” She wasn’t sure it was the right topic of conversation for the moment, but Belinda knew for sure the topic of Maggie would be the wrong one. At least for now, Maggie Devon would not be discussed.

“I don’t know. Something is telling me something is wrong. She would have returned hours ago if it weren’t true. We had things to discuss,” Brigit sighed. Inanely, she reached out and began to gather the portfolios nearest to her. Mimicking Belinda’s actions, she began to form neat stacks of her own.

“Oh? What kind of things, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“It’s not a secret,” Brigit assured her. “I need someone to take over my duties here while John is on vacation. That’s all. Nothing big.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not sure who would be interested in it now,” Brigit murmured as she picked up a stack in each hand and took them back to the file cabinet drawer they had been liberated from. “I’ll figure it out, though.”

“Figure out what?”

Brigit and Belinda turned to see Mama Dee standing in the doorway. She was watching the two of them with a suspicious eye, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Who to ask to take over for me for a little while,” Brigit answered.

“Well, don’t ask me,” Mama Dee instructed firmly. “I have no intention of being in charge ever again. Especially after what happened last time,” she shook her head.

“That was three years ago, Mama,” Belinda reminded. “Ancient history.”

“To you, maybe,” Mama Dee huffed, “but believe me; I learned my place and my lesson. I ain’t cut out for the big decisions. So don’t even think about asking me.”

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’m aware of your feelings,” Brigit assured her. “You’re safe.”

“That’s good because I’d retire before I ever took over again.”

“Well, then, you’re doubly safe because you won’t be bothered with the choice.”

“Good.” Mama Dee watched Brigit as she continued to return the files to their place in the storage cabinet. Something was off in Brigit’s energy. Mama Dee could see it. “What’s the matter with you?”

The inquiry was not gentle. It verged on being a demand. Brigit paused in mid-movement to study her friend’s face.

“I have a lot on my mind. Katuri-Buttercup is missing,” Brigit admitted. She knew this tidbit of information would keep Mama Dee from bringing up Maggie. She wasn’t in the mood to hear Mama Dee reminding her of the obvious again.

“Are you sure? How many cases did she have today? Maybe she’s still busy taking care of those,” Mama Dee suggested. “Lord knows that girl is always going.”

“No, Mama, you’re always going,” Brigit teased. “It feels like you’re always gone.”

“That’s because I am. There are just too many babies to be crossed lately. I’ve been trying to get to them before they get too scared or too used to being a ghost. They like to cause trouble when that happens. It ain’t right,” she shook her head ruefully. “Folks should take better care of the babies. Sickness and disease, I can understand. Hurting a child, though, I just never will…” Mama Dee shook her head again. Brigit was keenly aware of her friend’s prejudices against a soul that had hurt a child. She had been witness to Mama Dee’s ire over the thought of it on both sides of their existences as friends. “So do you think something’s wrong? Have you called for her?”

“I went to look for her, briefly, but there was nothing I could find of her” Brigit admitted. “I’ll be heading back out again when the sun rises.”

“Where to?”

“A place called ‘Alpina’. John says we used to have a branch office there. It’s where the field guide took me when I went to look. I don’t know, Mama. I hope nothing has happened.”

“Do you need someone to go with you? Where is Alpina?” Mama Dee asked.

“Colorado, and no, I think I can manage to find her. Everyone’s busy enough. I’ll be fine,” Brigit assured her.

“Are you sure? We got enough folks on staff to go with you,” Mama Dee pointed out. Brigit noticed her friend was not volunteering her personal services. She merely smiled and made a note to think about it later. “Suit yourself, then,” Mama Dee grumbled before turning and leaving the room. Brigit watched the old woman walk down the hall and enter her own office. When the last bit of coral pink dress had followed her inside, Brigit looked to Belinda.

“Wow. What crawled up her butt?” Belinda asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Brigit sighed heavily.

14: Shelly Longmont

Brigit spent the night in the office. She knew Maggie wouldn’t be home. She knew it would be useless to sit and wait in the darkness. Her mind would wander through the darkest of shadows at the thought of Maggie and what the impending conversation would lay at her feet. Brigit knew she couldn’t afford to think it all right now. A Reaper was missing and the mystery behind it demanded her full attention. She would simply have to ignore the future regarding Maggie until later.

She had kept her mind preoccupied through the night with various tasks she had been ignoring. She had read the file on Leonard James three times. There had been a brief mention of a Kittredge ‘Kit’ James, listed as Leonard’s older brother. It was during the second reading that Brigit remembered where she had heard that particular name. The Kid had warned her about him, saying he was ‘mean’.

That description made her smile.

She had been eight years old the last time she had actually heard that word applied to anyone. A debate on the playground had erupted when her ‘friends’ had denied the new girl in school the chance to join them on the swings. The little girl had teared up, her face turning the deepest shade of red Brigit had ever seen to that point in her life before declaring Brigit and her friends as being mean. The declaration had embarrassed Brigit and she had immediately vacated the swings to follow the new girl to the opposite side of the playground.

Somehow, Brigit had the feeling the term ‘mean’ as it applied to Kit James was far different than what I had meant when used by a little girl just trying to fit in to a new reality.

When she finished the second reading, Brigit arrived to the thought that Kit James might be the connection she needed to find Katuri-Buttercup. If he couldn’t provide the connection, or at least, the first step in the right direction, Brigit was sure she’d be a total loss and have to figure something else out. She needed to find and talk to Kit James.

“Here’s to hoping,” she sighed as she embarked on the third reading of Leonard’s file.

When her internal clock signaled that the new day was about to begin, Brigit pushed herself away from the large mahogany desk and stood. The portfolio for Leonard James was slipped back into her coat pocket as she crossed the room. Her black umbrella was easily plucked from its resting place as she passed by. Brigit was ready and determined to find Katuri-Buttercup no matter what.

As she reached to open the main door, Brigit was suddenly pushed back by its opening from the other side. When she recovered her balance, she was surprised to see Shelly Longmont standing before her. The white pillbox hat Shelly wore sat at a devil-may-care angle atop the blonde curls of her head. The light in her pale blue eyes danced with a spunkiness Brigit had grown to know well.

“Well, hey there, Brigit! Where are you headed to so early this mornin’?” Shelly greeted as she closed the door behind her. The tone of the other woman’s Texas drawl was chipper.

“I’m heading out to see if I can locate Katuri-Buttercup. She’s been missing since yesterday. How’s your new class going?”

“They’re learnin’, but I swear, this group is like squeezin’ water from a stone when it comes to participation. Monkey see, monkey do and I’ll be damned if they’ll think a thought of their own. They’ll get it, though. They usually do toward the end,” Shelly laughed. “Would you like some company? I need a break from the monkeys and we all know two brains are better than one.”

Brigit eyed the other woman for a second. Mama Dee had suggested that Brigit take someone with her. Brigit had assured the little old woman she would be fine working alone, but now, Shelly Longmont was offering her company. Brigit wondered if everyone but her had a feeling she had not felt.

“Sure, why not?” Brigit agreed.

“Just let me fix myself up real quick,” Shelly said as she opened the white, patent leather purse handing from her forearm by a thin strap.

Brigit was well aware of the purse’s contents. Shelly had spilled the bag once and Brigit had been surprised – and amused – at what she had seen. There was a deck of cards still in their box. The cards were marked in a way that had guaranteed good decisions by their owner during a high stakes poker game. There was a freshly printed strap of twenty dollar bills, enough money to run on if Shelly had needed to disappear. Of course, Shelly Longmont would never have left the state of Texas voluntarily, but there were times when things tended to get a little heated and Shelly found herself heading to the small mountain town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas where she would lay low at The Crescent Hotel and until she received the signal it was okay to finally come home. As it happened, the staff on of The Crescent Hotel could count on seeing Shelly Longmont about twice a year…

Aside from the marked cards and strap of cash, Shelly carried a Smith & Wesson Model 36. When Brigit had picked the small pistol off the floor, she surveyed the blue steel finish and rosewood handle with awe. Despite her personal dislike for guns, this was a pretty specimen. When she passed it back to Shelly, she asked:

“Scared much?”

“Nope, never.” The answer was accompanied by a wry grin as the pistol was returned to its place inside the purse.

The remaining two items Shelly carried were a tube of lipstick in the brightest shade of red Brigit had ever seen and a mirrored compact of pressed powder. It was these two items that Shelly removed from her purse now in the effort to ‘freshen up’. Brigit watched as Shelly applied the unholy shade of lipstick to puckered lips with one hand while checking her accuracy via the mirror of the compact she held in the other hand. When she deemed herself presentable, Shelly returned the items to her purse and snapped the clasp shut.

“Now I’m ready,” she announced. Brigit merely nodded and reached for the door.

As it had before, the portal delivered Brigit to the small, dingy cabin that was empty of anything except dust and a long wooden table. Through the small dirty windows, she could see the landscape outside shrouded in varying shades of grey. Dawn was just beginning to break over Alpina.

“Not much for housekeepin’, are they?” Shelly commented as she slowly scanned the small room. “Where the heck are we?”

“Alpina, Colorado,” Brigit replied. “This used to be a branch office; but I’ve been told it’s been empty for a while now.”

“A lot longer than that if you ask me,” Shelly replied. Brigit glanced to her companion and found the other woman’s gaze fixed on the stone hearth of the fireplace. There was a puzzled look on Shelly’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Brigit asked as she turned her sight to the stone formation rising against the log wall. She couldn’t see what held Shelly’s attention so steadfastly.

“That one rock,” Shelly pointed to the stone just to the right of the cavity that had contained so many blazes once upon a time. “It doesn’t look right.”

“How so?” Brigit stepped closer to inspect the stone and compare it to the others.

“It’s been cut,” Shelly mumbled as she crossed to the hearth and caressed the stone in point with her fingertips. “The other stones, they’re natural. This one has been shaped, like it’s meant to mean something. Aha!”

Brigit watched as Shelly gently removed the stone. Behind it was a carved out space. From inside the hole, Shelly withdrew a familiar looking object.

“What the…” Shelly began as she held the portfolio up for Brigit’s inspection. Brigit took it from her and read the name across the front cover.

“Kittredge James,” Brigit read aloud. “Just the guy we need to see.”

“Why was it hidden?”

“That’s a good question. I will imagine it’s because his kid brother, Leonard, was the Reaper in charge of this office. Rule number three would have prevented Leonard from completing the assignment. He should have delegated it to another Reaper, but he hid it. I wonder why?”

“Are you an only child, Brigit?” Shelly asked. Brigit looked up at the woman. A light of amusement was dancing in her pale blue eyes.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“An only child can never really comprehend the lengths of the love between close-knit brothers and sisters,” Shelly explained as she plucked the file from Brigit’s fingers and studied the name across the front.

“Did you have a brother or sister?”

“I had a sister, younger than me. I loved that girl more than life some days.”

“What happened?” Brigit inquired.

“She married a no good, lyin’-cheatin’-woman-beatin’ bastard out of Louisiana. My daddy loved him, but that was because he didn’t know what that son-of-a-bitch was doin’ to his little girl. If he had, he’d have beaten me to the punch,” Shelly smiled a ladylike smile but the amusement in her eyes had gained a dangerous edge.

“What did you do?”

“Me? Oh, I caught him beatin’ on my sister one evenin’ when they came up for a visit. Daddy was down in Galveston on business and wouldn’t be back until the next day. I had just come in from a night out doin’ what I did to amuse myself back then. Anyway, I caught him kickin’ the shit out of my poor baby sister. It was awful and the sight of her on the floor, well, I just snapped. I pulled my Rosie out.”

“Rosie?”

“You’ve seen her,” Shelly patted her purse gently. “Anyway, I pulled Rosie and blew that son-of-a-bitch’s knee caps clean off. I made sure he’d never kick anything ever again.”

“Did he survive?”

“I don’t really know,” Shelly replied innocently. “I called old Ben in from the barn and he called in Tom and Blue. Those boys were always like brothers to me and Nessa. They were always taking care of certain businesses that Nessa and I couldn’t without ruining our images and reputations. I suspect one or two of them were in love with Nessa, so they were probably more than happy to clean up this particular mess. I have no idea what they did with that jackass once they got him out the house. I’ll swear on a stack of Bibles to that. All I cared about was that Nessa was safe. The bastard never showed his face again. Nessa stayed with us until her divorce was finalized. I remember how Daddy was so mad. He was plenty mad that Nessa had been hurt, but mostly, I think he was maddest about being wrong about someone. He never knew what I did to protect my baby sister, but I think he suspected something was off kilter when he came back from Galveston.”

“Wow,” Brigit shook her head. “You are something else, Shelly Longmont.”

“Nah,” Shelly sighed. “I’m just an overprotective sister. I have the feeling our boy Leonard was the same way about his brother and vice-a-versa. So, the big question is: What do we do now?” Shelly returned the file to Brigit and watched as she slipped it into the coat pocket containing Leonard James’ file. Brigit had not opened it. Shelly found that mysterious. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that Brigit probably had too much on her mind to worry about the details of the elder James brother.

“We need to go see Kit James and ask a few questions. I think he might be able to help,” Brigit explained.

“And if he can’t?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

Together they left the small cabin. The light of day was beginning to brighten the landscape. The world around them would be waking up soon. Brigit wondered how long it would take them to find and question Kit James.

“Well, ain’t this a quaint little place?” Shelly cooed as she kept pace with Brigit.

They walked quickly along the muddy street. Once, Brigit glanced down at the red, high heels Shelly wore. The lady had shifted her balance to the balls of her feet and easily stepped through the mud and manure. As they passed The Drink House, Brigit turned her head to look inside. As they had been the day before, the souls gathered there were seated, chatting amongst themselves and waiting. She wondered how much longer they would have to wait until they would be crossed. She made a mental note to see about finding their files when time would allow…

The two women passed through the small settlement and began the climb up the incline rising gently at first, and then more steeply, against the mountainside. Shelly kept up despite her shoes. When they reached the point where the road leveled out, there was a moment to stop and look behind them. The settlement appeared even smaller from this height. Brigit raised her eyes and looked over the tops of the aspen and pine that kept the small town shielded from the world that had continued to live long after Alpina had disappeared from history’s memory. As the sun rose over the eastern plains, Brigit could see the cities that grown out of tiny settlements and a few people’s dreams of something new.

“That’s a pretty picture,” Shelly commented quietly.

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, come on. We need to find your boy,” Shelly decided firmly. “Do you know how far we need to go?”

“First cabin on the trail is what the kid told me yesterday,” Brigit answered as she turned away from the vista being lit by the morning sun. “Hopefully, he’ll be home and we can get on with the business of finding Katuri.”

“He won’t be home,” Shelly announced.

“How do you know?”

A shot suddenly rang out through the crisp morning air. Its echo ricocheted off the rocks and ridges above them. Brigit looked all around her, as if she could see the reverberations as they pierced the air. Shelly Longmont smiled.

“It’s daybreak. He’s probably out hunting for a dinner he’ll never be able to eat.”

15: The Cabin, the Box & the Kid

It was an even smaller structure than the cabin that had received them. There was no porch leading to the front door like there was at the other place. Instead, the earth had been worn bare and then kept bare by the overhang that had been tacked to the side to provide shelter from the elements. There were no windows so far as the women could see from where they stood. A narrow stone chimney rose above the backside of the roof. The absence of a smoke plume assured them the cabin’s occupant was indeed gone. To be sure, though, Brigit knocked on the door. Shelly, meanwhile, was surveying the small outbuilding a few yards away from the cabin.

“He’s definitely not here,” Brigit announced.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Shelly called back.

“It’s the first cabin. The kid said it was where Kit James lives.”

“What else did this kid say?” Shelly asked as she joined Brigit under the overhang.

“That Kit James is ‘mean’.”

“Hmph! I’ll just bet he is,” Shelly grunted. “Well, let’s see how Mr. James keeps himself.”

Before Brigit could protest against it, Shelly had pushed open the door and walked inside. Quickly, Brigit turned and scanned the scenery around the cabin. She didn’t want to consider how Kit James would react if he were to catch them trespassing. Especially after what the kid had said…

Shelly stood with her hands on her hips. In the middle of the tiny room sat a square table and two roughly made wooden chairs. The narrow chimney that rose over the backside of the cabin’s roof was a perfect indication to the size of the fireplace it vented inside. The cavity in the heart was barely two feet wide. Brigit wondered how well it had worked in warming the cabin, no matter how small the structure actually was.

“Not much to be see here, is there?” Shelly asked as she stepped over to the south wall and randomly picked up jars stored on a shelf. She examined them for a second before replacing them. “Not much of a housekeeper, either.”

“I’m sure that being a ghost for a hundred years can change one’s priorities a bit,” Brigit quipped as she let her eyes roam over the narrow cot that had been placed against the northern wall. “What’s that?” She pointed the tip of her umbrella toward the corner opposite from where she stood. Her dark eyes had landed on a box in the corner. Shelly turned and spied the object of her companion’s inquiry. Without prompt, she walked over to it and flipped the lid up to rest against the wall behind it.

“Well, I’ll be…”

“Are those portfolios?” Brigit demanded in shock. She came closer for a better look.

“They sure are!” Shelly confirmed. “What on earth is he doing with these? He wasn’t a Reaper, was he?”

“No, it was only his brother Leonard that worked for the firm. How many are there?”

“A couple hundred at least,” Shelly estimated. “What do you want to do now? Are we just goin’ to sit here and wait on him? If he’s out hunting, he might not be back for a while.”

“We really don’t have the time for that,” Brigit decided as she stared at the opened box, its contents filling it almost to the brim. “I think we can get his attention, though,” she said quietly as she reached out and lowered the lid.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to take this back to the other cabin. I will wait the day for him there. If he comes back, I’m sure he’ll be intelligent enough to realize it’s missing. I can only hope he’ll come looking for it,” Brigit explained as she hefted the box from the floor.

“You might be giving him too much credit,” Shelly warned.

“We’ll see, won’t we? At any rate, it will save me time in bringing the files back to the office from there than it will from here.”

As the two women exited the cabin, Brigit paused while Shelly closed the door behind them. She was about to speak when she heard a greeting called her way. Brigit turned in time to see the kid she had met the day before quickly approaching from the direction the kid had said it lived in. Like the day before, the kid carried the homemade fishing pole and burlap bag.

“Where are you takin’ Mr. James’ box?” the kid asked as he joined the women. The kid glanced at Shelly for a split second before turning alarmed eyes up to Brigit.

“I’m taking it to town,” Brigit explained. “Do me a favor, will you, Kid? If you see Mr. James, tell him he can pick his box up from me.”

“He ain’t goin’ to like that.”

“He isn’t,” Shelly corrected the kid sternly. The kid and Brigit both stopped and looked at the blonde woman. Shelly’s pale blue eyes bore into the kid’s face without waiver. Brigit knew she had heard Shelly use “ain’t” on more than one occasion. It confused her as to why the woman would correct the kid for use of a word she used fluently.

The kid swallowed nervously before stammering:

“He isn’t goin’ to like you takin’ his box.”

“You can tell him where to find it,” Brigit finally said.

“What are you goin’ to do to him?”

“Nothing. I just want to talk to him. He can’t ignore me if I have something he wants,” Brigit explained as she started walking again. “Where are you going today?”

“I’m goin’ down to the creek,” the kid replied, again pronouncing it as ‘crick’.

“The creek? There are two e’s in that word, not an i.” Shelly commented.

“I know that,” the kid snapped. “I ain’t stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid. No one has implied that you are,” Shelly snapped just as hard. “However, if you want someone to believe that you are not, I would suggest that you enunciate the correct pronunciation of your words. What is your name, young man?”

The kid puffed his chest and smiled.

“Kid.”

“I don’t believe you,” Shelly replied.

“Oh, so now I’m a liar on top of being an idjit?”

“Idiot,” Shelly said. “I-d-i-o-t.”

“Lady, you need to mind your manners!” the kid screamed before running off into the trees. Brigit stopped walking and turned to see Shelly Longmont with an expression of shocked surprise plastered across her face.

“What was that all about?” Brigit asked.

“I was merely correcting him,” Shelly began.

“I don’t think he appreciated the effort.”

“I think you’re right.”

16: Waiting

Once they had returned to the cabin they had arrived to Alpina in, Shelly took her leave of Brigit’s company. She mentioned checking in on ‘the monkeys’ and promised to return as soon as she could. Her interest in Kit James had been piqued and she wanted to see the man everyone seemed so focused on. Brigit agreed and turned her attention to the box she had toted back from the man’s abode.

It was a simple, yet sturdy, structure. By her guess, it was a little over a foot tall and wide – a perfect square. The knotted wood had been sanded to a smooth finish and dovetailed along three of four edges to fit neatly together at the corners before being nailed together on every other interlocking piece to make sure it remained together. Heavy, black, iron hoops hang from the sides. The iron latch that lay over the matching loop protruding from the face of the box appeared to have never seen the use of a lock. Despite its simplicity, there seemed to be a rustic elegance about it that Brigit could appreciate.

Wondering how many portfolios it actually held, Brigit opened the box and began to withdraw the long black files a handful at a time. Out of habit, she began to scan their contents and sort them into neat stacks. The actions were inane and allowed her mind to wander freely.

The question that immediately rushed into the open space for thought was the question of how long it would take for Sola DuLach to arrange the meeting with Maggie. Brigit knew what Maggie had to say. She could probably have written the whole monologue word for word. She just didn’t know how she should feel about it.

During the nights of waiting for Maggie to come home, Brigit had found the time to ride through her anger. At first, she had denied the possibility of her thoughts. Maggie couldn’t – wouldn’t – open her heart to another. Not after everything Brigit had gone through to keep her promise, to keep Maggie safe. When her arguments of denial were proven wrong, when others – like Mama Dee – began to add a voice to the truth she didn’t want to accept, Brigit’s anger had begun to set in.

She didn’t know what to do, if there was anything that actually could be done. What were her options? Find Maggie where she was sleeping and raise hell? Brigit knew the only thing that would accomplish would be to piss Maggie off. The truth of it was that Brigit knew her only option was to wait. She had waited almost a month for Maggie to come home. Now, she was waiting to hear Maggie tell her that she had moved on because she was still living and Brigit, most clearly, was not. After the conversation was over, would Brigit continue to wait until the day Maggie was also a member of the un-living?

“Of course I’ll wait,” Brigit mumbled as she reached into the box and removed the last of the portfolios. “I promised and a promise is a promise. Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I can’t keep my end of the bargain.”

Continuing with the sorting, Brigit let her mind leave the thought of Maggie. Though the box she had taken from Kit James’ cabin was a decent size, Brigit was surprised to find it was not as deep on the inside as it appeared to be on the outside. Something was not right. She examined the outside of the box again to confirm her thoughts.

Yes, the box was definitely bigger than the inside indicated. Determined to figure it out, Brigit stepped to the edge of the table and peered inside again. Slowly, her dark eyes ran along the edges of the bottom. When she tipped the box toward her in the effort to have better light, the bottom shifted. The movement poked her curiosity harder. Quickly, she tipped the box further toward her and caught the square that had come loose. Following the false bottom tumbled its hidden contents.

Gingerly, Brigit lifted each item and examined its exterior. There was a Holy Bible bound in brown leather. Next was a diary, also bound in brown leather. Beside the books, two smaller pieces had fallen out. One item was a tarnished pocket watch, it’s hands long stopped in their movement. The other item was a locket sans its chain and just as tarnished as the pocket watch. Brigit looked into the bottom of the box and realized there was one more item inside. It appeared to be a jewelry box. She saw just enough room to slide her fingers around the edge and pry it loose. Inside the smaller box lay two polished pistols. The pearl enameled handles were pristine, as if they had never been held in someone’s hand. It was an odd collection to her.

Feeling as though she had taken her prying too far, Brigit began to replace the items back to the secret compartment. There was a reason they were hidden. She would merely have to wait for the answer to the mystery.

When she replaced the wood that made the false bottom, Brigit closed the lid and set the box on the floor. The only piece of furniture in the cabin was the long table. The box would have to lend itself as a seat while she waited. Until someone showed up, waiting was all she could do.

17: Confrontation

Kit sighed heavily as he led Daisy down the trail toward the cabin. The morning’s hunt had resulted in nothing more than another wasted bullet. It was the same every time. He’d track the animal, take perfect aim and know in his heart it was a good shot, and every time, the animal would only flinch before disappearing into the forest. In the early days after his death, Kit had given chase to the animals he hunted. He would ride Daisy until she appeared slick with sweat only to be eluded by his quarry. After a while, Kit had learned the chase was futile. Eventually, the hunt had become nothing more than an exercise of his skills as a hunter and a marksman. He had found both skills to be necessary in keeping with his brother’s duties as a Reaper. Now, it was just something to do when he wasn’t hunting a soul.

As they entered the clearing around the small cabin where he lived, Daisy suddenly stopped and snorted in warning. Kit, annoyed that she would behave so, turned and shot her a dirty look. Daisy, used to her master’s quick changes in mood, merely snorted again and shook her mane while keeping her dark eyes focused on the cabin. Realizing she most likely had a reason for her behavior; Kit reached up and stroked her nose with a gloved hand before casting a glance over his shoulder. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary…

“Some days I wish you could just talk instead of yanking my arm out of its socket,” he grumbled. “There’s nothing there,” he said. “Come on now.”

Reluctantly, Daisy followed Kit as he led her to the cabin. He didn’t take her to the small stable and remove her saddle. Today was going to be like every other day. They would go out later in the hunt for another ghost. Kit just needed to find a file…

He entered the cabin and immediately stopped inside the door. His eyes narrowed against the darkness within. The energy was different. Someone had been inside his space and not that long ago. Kit scanned the walls one at a time. He was looking for the slightest shape of a shadow he didn’t recognize – looking for the tiniest thing out of place. He was starting to wish he had brought his rifle in with him, but it was safely secured in its sheath and resting against Daisy’s back. If anything jumped out at him, Kit knew he would have to fight it with his bare hands.

Cautiously, he took another step into the room. Nothing moved in the darkness. His eyes were still straining to see what was different. When they fell to the corner between the end of his cot and the wall, his anger exploded in him. Whomever had entered his cabin had taken Lenny’s box.

The anger propelled him out from the cabin and into the saddle. There was only one other soul that Kit was aware of that knew about Lenny’s box. He had caught Josie trying to peek in it a few times before and each time he had threatened the kid with a beating she would never forget. Now, she had plain just taken the box.

The rushing water of the creek was soothing as she sat on the boulder and watched the whitecaps forming over the rocks hidden beneath the surface. The constant babble of the rise and fall of the current broke the silence that had surrounded her since her death. She hated the silence and the feeling of loneliness it carried. The hatred of silence was what caused her to be so excited to see Kit James, even after instances like the night before when he had caught her crying in Daisy’s stable again. He talked to her. He broke the silence. It let her know she wasn’t really alone.

Lenny James had been that way towards her as well. Lenny had been nicer, too. He had always worn a smile and sounded happy to see whomever he was talking to. Lenny James had been a beacon of light. Kit, his older brother, had always been the shadow. That’s how Josie had always seen them. Light and dark, Lenny and Kit. It didn’t matter to her, though. Josie had always claimed them both as her friends because they talked to her – unlike the other souls occupying Alpina.

Then there was the new woman, Brigit. She had not hesitated to talk to Josie and it had delighted the girl that Brigit had not questioned the fake name Josie had presented to her. She had always wanted to be a boy, but everyone from the old days of Alpina knew she was girl and they didn’t let her forget it. Being a girl hampered everyone’s belief in her abilities – even as a ghost, no one believed she could do just as much as a boy could. At times, it was so infuriating that Josie couldn’t help when her emotions took control. It was during those times that she would find her way to the rock she now sat on, listening to the cheerful babble of the creek and forgetting what had upset her so much to begin with.

The blonde haired lady that had been with Brigit had been the cause this time. Josie’s pride had been bruised by the insinuation that she was stupid and uneducated. She could read and she could write. No one ever said she had to be a lady just because she knew these things. The embarrassment of the blonde lady’s corrections had caused Josie to forget that Brigit was stealing Kit’s box. The anger that followed her embarrassment had carried her to the creek. She had meant to be fishing today, but right now, she just wanted to be at peace again.

With a deep sigh, Josie swiped the wide-brimmed hat from her head and laid it on the rock beside her. The action released the braids on either side of her head from the place where they had lain in hiding. When they landed heavily against the shoulders of her coat, Josie flicked them over to rest against her back in annoyance. She never understood why her mother wouldn’t let her just cut them off…

The sun was warmer today, or so she imagined, as she tilted her face toward the clear blue sky and closed her eyes. She was about to slip into her daydreams when her ears registered the sound of fast approaching hooves. Alarmed, the girl scrambled to her feet and watched for the horse crashing through the underbrush. To her surprise, it was Kit James and Daisy that appeared.

“Josie Gail! You better give me Lenny’s box right now,” Kit bellowed angrily.

“Kit, I –“

“Now! I don’t want to hear your lyin’!”

“I ain’t got your box!”

“Josie, I’m not playin’. You better tell me where it is or I’ll tan your hide so hard you won’t be able to sit down for a month!”

“I’m tellin’ you the truth! The lady took it. She said you couldn’t ignore her if she had something you want. She said she wants to talk to you. I don’t have your stupid box!” Josie wailed. Kit stared hard at the youngster standing atop the rock in the middle of the creek. Although her face had gone pink, he could see that she was telling the truth. “She said she was goin’ to town. I ‘spect she went to Doc Harrison’s place,” Josie spat. “That’s where I met her yesterday. Why don’t you go look for yourself?”

“You better be right,” Kit warned.

“Or what? You’ll tan my hide?”

“Watch your mouth, Josie. I ain’t in a mood for smart-mouthin’.”

Josie bit her bottom lip as Kit pulled hard on Daisy’s reins and turned toward town. Before she could put the words in enough order to actually provide a smart-mouthed reply, he was gone. The sound of them crashing back through the trees took the wind from her sails. Overwhelmed by her emotions once more, Josie plopped down on the rock and started to cry.

Brigit let her eyes relax as she stared out the dirty window to the left of the door. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular. It was just that she had already taken in every detail of the room around her and the practice of staring at nothing had always seemed to keep her thoughts quiet. How long had it been since she had thought of nothing?

It was the sound of a fast approach and a flash of movement in the window to the right of the door that broke Brigit’s concentration. Quickly, she came to her feet and crossed the room to the door. Upon opening it, she saw the cause of all the raucous. The bearded man had just yanked the rifle from its sheath and turned to face her where she stood. The fire of anger dancing in his eyes as he stared at her told Brigit exactly who was standing before her.

“Kit James, I assume?”

“Where’s my box?” the man replied in an angry bellow.

He charged the porch, bringing the rifle’s butt to rest against his shoulder. Brigit didn’t flinch when she felt the end of the barrel pressed against her coat at that place just over her heart. She remained firm in her stance, fighting an urge to be angry at the bearded man’s audacity in threatening her. Instead, she locked eyes with him, reading his every thought as it fired through his mind.

“Where’s my box?” he demanded again, this time in a menacing growl.

“I have it,” Brigit confirmed. “And I have a few questions to ask, Mr. James.” Her voice was calm as she spoke. She could see the surprise in his eyes to the fact that she was not afraid.

“I don’t care about your questions,” Kit replied through clenched teeth. “I want the box.”

A slight smile came to Brigit’s face as she continued to stare him in the eye. From the edge of vision, she could see the inside of the cabin. She had seen the pantry door open and Shelly Longmont step out. It had taken the returning woman half a second to comprehend the scene outside the opened front door. It had taken the remaining half of that second to draw the Smith & Wesson Model 36 from within the white leather purse she carried while simultaneously kicking off her red high heels. On bare feet, Shelly crossed the space with “Rosie” cocked and a cold-stone look on her face.

Surprise registered quickly on Kit James’ face when he felt the cold steel of Rosie’s short barrel pressed against his bare cheek.

“Put it down or I’ll blow your damned brains straight to Limbo,” Shelly growled.

Kit glanced sideways, breaking his connection with the woman dressed head to toe in black.

“This ain’t your fight,” he warned, trying in vain to conceal the shock in his voice.

“You’re pointing a gun at my friend. That makes it my fight. Now, lower your weapon. I ain’t goin’ to tell you again.”

“I just want my box back. I’ll shoot, I swear.”

“Not with the safety on, you numb-nut,” Shelly pointed out.

“Maybe you both should calm down,” Brigit suggested. “No one needs to get hurt. We just need to talk.”

Brigit caught Kit’s focus again. He was trying to decide something, but his thoughts were running too fast to decipher. Shelly was unwavering in her stance. Her finger rested lightly against Rosie’s trigger, her pale blue eyes were focused on the bearded man’s face without blinking. Brigit was sure Shelly would not flinch when she pulled the trigger.

“Her first,” Kit finally drawled.

“Nothin’ doin’, bub. You first and then I’ll think about it,” Shelly replied.

“How about you both just do it? We’ve already wasted enough time,” Brigit added.

“You just want to talk?” Kit asked.

“We just want to talk,” Brigit assured him. “Now, please, put the gun down.”

Finally coming to whatever he had been trying to decide, Kit James took a step back and lowered the rifle’s barrel from Brigit’s breast. Shelly, however, kept Rosie aimed.

“Are you gonna shoot me?” Kit asked quietly, almost as if he were taunting the blonde woman.

“I might.”

“Shelly, it’s okay. Lower your weapon,” Brigit instructed calmly.

“He’s…”

“He’s not going to hurt anyone. Come on, relax,” Brigit urged. She waited as Shelly came to the conclusion that Brigit had the situation under control. The threat of danger was gone for the moment. Finally, she also lowered her weapon and took a step back. “Please, come in, Mr. James,” Brigit invited gently.

Kit nodded and stepped into the cabin. Brigit smiled at Shelly before joining the man inside. She was not surprised that Shelly remained on the porch for a few minutes longer. She imagined Shelly Longmont would need more than a few seconds to let go of the kind of anger Brigit had felt coming off her.

“Who are you?” Kit James asked as he surveyed the neat stacks of portfolios lined up on the table. He knew where they had come from. He wondered what else the woman had taken from Lenny’s box.

“My name is Brigit Malone. I’m the senior assistant to John Blackwick, the Grim Reaper.”

“John Blackwick? Never heard of him. Last I heard, a fella named Araxius was the Grim Reaper,” Kit replied.

“Then you are aware of the Reapers and our firm, Reapers, Incorporated. Good. That saves me time in explaining things. Araxius retired over five years ago, Mr. James. John Blackwick took his place. Did you know your brother was a member of our firm?”

“Yup,” Kit drawled. “I was his hunter.”

“His hunter? What does that mean, exactly?”

“I hunted down who ever Lenny told me to and then I’d call Len in to do the rest,” Kit explained.

“I see. And where is your brother now? Our records suggest he just disappeared one day. Do you know what happened?”

“Yup.”

“Would you care to explain?”

“Nope.”

Brigit clenched her jaw against the one word denial. She wondered if he was just being obstinate to further his show of irritation or if he was just naturally stubborn.

“I see. I have another question, then. Did you happen to see a small Asian girl here in Alpina yesterday? She has disappeared and it’s important that I find her.” Brigit watched his face as he pondered the question she had presented.

“I saw her,” was all he said.

“Do you know where she went?”

“She’s gone. Now, can I have my box back?”

Brigit stared hard at him. He knew more than he was telling her. She had seen him kick some piece of the story back into the shadows of his mind.

“What happened to Katuri-Buttercup?” she demanded firmly.

“She’s gone,” he repeated. “Carried away on the wind.”

Brigit felt the words hit her in the gut with the force of a sledgehammer. Katuri-Buttercup was gone – carried away on the winds of Limbo.

“Who was she reaping?” Brigit asked, fighting the urge to suddenly cry – or vomit – she wasn’t sure which would be first to erupt; but she knew the feelings were there.

“A fella named Ned Cadoc,” Kit answered as he reached out and opened the lid of the box. He started to reach for the closest stack of portfolios.

“No,” Brigit barked. Kit’s hand hang in mid-air. “You may have the box back, but the files stay with me,” she explained.

“They belonged to my brother.”

“Your brother was a Reaper, Mr. James. You are not. Therefore, the files are company property and they stay with me.”

Brigit watched him cast a last glance at the files, saw his hovering hand clench into a fist as he weighed her words. Finally, he reached over and closed the lid to the box and scooped it up under one arm. A look of hatred danced in his eyes when he looked at her again.

“Is that all?” he demanded.

“For now,” Brigit answered tersely.

Without another word, Kit James strode from the small cabin and out into the yard where his horse was peacefully nibbling at the grass. Brigit followed him as far as the porch, her dark eyes fixed solidly on his back as he continued to walk away. When he was far enough away to realize the horse was not following him, Kit James turned and issued a high pitched whistle. The horse raised its head and looked at the two women standing on the porch. Another whistle pierced the air, causing the horse to turn and follow the man walking toward town.

“Did he know where Katuri is?” Shelly asked quietly from where she leaned against the post supporting the roof.

“She’s gone,” Brigit answered, “Limbo.”

Silence hovered between the two women as they watched Kit James walk further and further away.

“Do you think he had anything to do with it?” Shelly inquired.

“I think he knows more than he told me.”

“What are you going to do next?”

“We need to talk to John, first.”

“And after that?” Shelly pressed. Brigit turned and looked at her companion. She could see the embers of rage still dancing in Shelly Longmont’s pale blue eyes.

“We’ll find out what really happened to Katuri-Buttercup.” Brigit promised firmly. “Do you have time to stick around?”

“I’ve got a bit, why?”

“I’m going to talk with John. I’d like you to keep an eye on Mr. James.”

“Don’t be too long,” Shelly replied. “I don’t know that I can hold off shooting him for too long,” she warned.

Brigit turned and stared hard at her companion. Shelly was full-on angry. Finding Kit James with his rifle pointed at Brigit’s chest had sparked the flame. Hearing that Katuri-Buttercup had been sent to Limbo had added breath to it. Suspecting that the hunter knew more than he was letting on only added fuel to the fire. Brigit wouldn’t put it past Shelly Longmont to shoot him and claim insanity as her defense.

“Do your best and try to refrain. I’ll be back soon and we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I ain’t makin’ any promises,” Shelly grumbled, her blue eyes never once leaving the retreating figure of Kit James.

“Do your best, Shelly,” Brigit called over her shoulder before entering the cabin, and then, entering the portal hidden in the pantry.

18: Ned Cadoc

He stared hard at the rushing stream just six feet away from him. Yesterday had been a close call, and yet, he had not been taken down despite the chance. In fact, Kit James had shot around him, taking out the soul that had snuck up behind him instead. Ned had taken the opportunity to hightail it out of The Drink House when the winds had suddenly blasted out of the walls. The chaos that event caused was just enough to distract everyone from witnessing his escape.

He had laughed about it all the way back to camp. Kit James had missed again. Yet as the night had set in, Ned’s amusement faded as he played the scene over in his mind. Kit James had not missed. He had saved him. The question that plagued Ned Cadoc was not the ‘what from?’ but rather the ‘why?’. It didn’t make sense and when something didn’t make sense, Ned became irate.

Ned had been at war with one or the other James brothers for almost a hundred years. Kit had-had nothing to do with any of it until his arrival in Alpina. The fight had been mainly between Lenny and Ned up to that point, a fight over pride and Ned’s continual embarrassment in front of the town’s people at Lenny’s hand. Ned had demanded their respect. Lenny, on the town’s behalf, had told him to hit the trail. Ned then demanded their fear by destroying what they had worked so hard to build. He and the boys went out of their way to prove to the town how much trouble they could be. If a woman or child were out when they happened to be in town, there was no safe place to hide. If a man so much as indicated he might fight, his bravery was met with a bullet to the back. Only Lenny James dared to face Ned time and time again and the only thing that had ever saved Lenny was the fact that he had rarely been alone…

When the day came that they crossed paths down in Denver, Lenny – again on the town’s behalf – had told Ned to go to Hell. Ned had drawn his gun on Lenny then, but the odds were against him. The strangers overhearing their exchange had chosen to stand behind Lenny. It was that moment when Lenny James became the main obstacle to what Ned wanted and Ned had always been a firm believer in removing obstacles one way or another…

He and the boys of his gang had been watching the James brothers for some time, often days at a time. Chalk and Bobby had been keeping an eye on the mining claim Kit and Lenny were working while Jim Dougherty kept his ears open in town. Ned remained camped on the plain between Alpina and Denver, his mind processing every scenario he could imagine in making an example out of Lenny James. It was only when Chalk arrived with the news that the James boys had found a vein of gold that everything finally fell into place in Ned’s line of thought.

It was an easy plan. Lenny would be making the trek to Denver to cash in their findings. It was the nearest location with an assayer’s office. He would be alone, having left Kit behind to guard the claim, and if he were true to his way, Lenny would be unarmed. Ned would take care of Lenny and then head straight for the mine to take care of Kit. It was an all-around win for Ned Cadoc. He’d rid himself of an obstacle (or two), become rich and take over Alpina. It was almost too easy, but that’s how Ned preferred life to be.

And it worked out that way. The James boys were gone in a hail of bullets. By the time the news reached Alpina, Chalk, Bobby and Jim had taken over the mining claim. Ned, with Lenny’s gold to back him, decided to stay in Denver until the dust settled. He’d have Alpina under his thumb in no time. They would fear him enough to respect him. He would exhibit his benevolence by carrying out Lenny’s dreaming of making the town a real town. Eventually, Ned had been sure, the townspeople would grow to love him.

Six months passed before Ned finally decided to return to Alpina. The boys had been working the mine, fishing out enough gold to keep Ned’s dreams burning. They assured him there was plenty more to be found. They assured him the memory of the James boys had become as quiet as a whisper now. When Ned finally rode into Alpina with the pride of a peacock, he was greeted by a bullet to the back from an unseen enemy. Someone had taken a page from his own playbook and before his spirit could arise from his dead body, someone had stripped him of his guns…

It had taken a couple of months for Ned Cadoc to comprehend his new existence. The frustration of being ignored, of being invisible, the thirst that refused to be quenched by the whiskey served in The Drink House and the occasional sighting of Kit James – eventually it all started to make sense. When Chalk died that winter from a bout of pneumonia, Ned had been grateful for familiar company. He and Chalk began to watch Kit James’ movements. If Kit was still roaming about, Ned figured Lenny wasn’t too far away.

In the following spring, Jim Dougherty met his fate at the end of a rope for having killed a kid down by the river. The townspeople had cried rape and murder while the mortal Jim had argued it to all be an accident. When his spirit had descended from the body dangling from the old Black Walnut’s branch, Ned and Chalk were there to greet him with open arms. It was another two years before Bobby finally joined them, the result of losing a knife fight in Carson City, Nevada over a winning hand of Faro. Apparently, the house was determined to win no matter what.

With his gang re-formed, Ned set to seriously watching the James boys again. By then, Lenny had reunited with his brother and their actions had Ned worried. He couldn’t – and wouldn’t – let them do to him what they were doing to other souls. He was immortal now. He could do what he wanted, and there was so much he wanted to do…

It was almost as easy the second time around to end the existence of Lenny James. There were no bullets wasted this time. Jim had knifed Kit in the back and the fear Ned had witnessed in the wounded man’s eyes as he slid the blade of his own knife across Lenny’s throat had exhilarated him. That was the first time Ned had ever felt the winds at his back. He had glanced over his shoulder briefly as he was running away to see Lenny’s body broken up and carried away on those winds. He had not noticed that Kit’s body remained.

When he finally did discover that Kit James had survived Jim Dougherty’s blade, he found there was something different about the man; but Ned couldn’t figure it out. It wasn’t as though they had ever exchanged more than a dozen words throughout their knowing of one another. Anything Ned Cadoc knew about Kit James was the sole result of diligent observation and it was his observation that Kit was a bit off now. Even though he was on his own, Kit had continued hunting. Now, though, he picked the souls off one by one to be carried away by the same winds that had carried his brother away. At various points, Kit James had even hunted and destroyed Ned’s friends – leaving him just as alone in his existence as Kit was.

Kit was taking his time in exacting his revenge on Ned. Yes, that was what it was – revenge. Ned didn’t really blame Kit. He supposed that if he had-had a brother and a villain like himself had come along to take that brother away, then yes, he too would seek revenge.

Ned reached down and picked up a stone. He never looked at it. His eyes were keenly focused on the thoughts rushing through his mind like the water of the creek as it raced over the rocks that refused to get out of the way. He could leave this place, if he wanted to. Maybe, Ned thought, that’s the problem. I don’t want to leave…

He had spent most of his mortal days moving about. When he would find himself in hot water in one town, it was so easy to saddle up and move to the next. Yet, he always found his way back to Alpina. He had, in so many ways, fallen in love with the settlement. He could see a future for the town that would rival any of the other towns that had been borne from golden dreams. Alpina had the foundation to be the gem of the Rockies. Ned could see that. He only needed the capitol to set his ideas, his plans, into place. He had to have money to be in power, to build respect; but Leonard James had marred that particular prospect. Lenny James had-had similar dreams and when he had shared them with the townspeople, he won their support, he earned their respect. Everything that Ned Cadoc had wanted, Leonard James had taken and Ned had hated him for that. He had carried that hate into death with him and exacted his revenge on Leonard James. This thing with Kit was merely a game of cat and mouse and Ned found that the game had long ago ceased to be fun. He was tired of it. He wanted to be done. Kit could – and needed to be – taken care of. The sooner that was done, Ned knew, the sooner he could exist in peace.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he growled in determination as he hurled the stone between his fingers into the rushing waters. “Alpina will be mine.”

19: Second Thoughts

John sighed heavily as he sat in the black leather chair stationed behind the large desk. He had returned to the main office with the intent of discussing his duties with Brigit. When Belinda Yaris informed the Grim Reaper that his assistant had taken off to the abandoned office in Alpina, John had retreated to their shared space with new thoughts crowding his mind.

Brigit was obviously busy. Perhaps she was just as busy as John was. He had never stopped to think – let alone, ask – what her daily duties entailed. Had it always been this way for her? He had no complaints with how she ran the operation on this level. He was confident she could manage his duties effortlessly. The main concern John stared at was the concern that Brigit simply could not be replaced.

He remembered the incident that had occurred when Mama Dee had taken over for a brief period. One wrong, yet good intentioned, decision had created a day full of chaos for them all. The corralling of escaped dark souls had brought about the fact that everyone had their place, their strengths and, their weaknesses. Everyone had learned something that day, but those lessons had been personal and – for the most part – kept private.

The firm hadn’t been so busy then. They had managed with a handful of Reapers and John had been free to travel the world, opening new branch office and training more Reapers. They had finally crossed the thousandth staff member mark worldwide, but John knew it would be a long time still before Reapers, Incorporated was anywhere close to the staffing level it had been before the retirement of Araxius Herodotus and the others. That many Reapers meant lighter workloads for everyone. That simply wasn’t the case for any of them now. Everyone had their place. Everyone had their duty and every single one of them were busy at any given moment of the day. And now that John Blackwick had paused to recognize and acknowledge this small truth, he felt the second wave of thoughts begin to flow in.

Perhaps it wasn’t the right time for a holiday. Yes, he desperately felt the need for a break of his own. True, he had been reaping non-stop for well over forty years straight and he could remember the times when a lighter workload allowed him to ignore a need to get away from it all. But the firm – he – was busy every second of every minute of every hour of every day. Was it wise to step away? Even for a little while?

“You look exhausted.”

John opened his ice blue eyes and focused them on Brigit’s face. He had not realized he had closed them, nor had he heard her enter the office.

“I was thinking,” John admitted with a weary smile. “Maybe I should hold off on my holiday.”

“Why?” Brigit asked cautiously. “Has something happened between you and Jean-Pierre to change your mind?”

“Aside from our disagreement regarding the opera? No. We are fine. It’s just that it has occurred to me how busy everyone is. I’m beginning to feel that it would be unfair of me to add to everyone’s workload. Why are you smiling?” He was confused by his assistant’s apparent amusement that appeared at his sincere words.

“John, have you ever heard of The Bus Theory?”

“I can’t say that I have,” he admitted.

“Put simply, if you were hit by a bus tomorrow, one of us would need to be able to do your job if Reapers, Incorporated is meant to continue with the work we do. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, would need to shift in order to support the space that has been left empty because you were hit by a bus. Are you worried we aren’t qualified enough to carry on? You shouldn’t be. The staff you’ve recruited in this office is proficient enough to shoulder more responsibility when it’s required. That being said, you’re going on vacation and you’re not going to worry. Whether you’re gone for a week, a month or a year – we will carry on. You need a break, John. Take it.”

He studied Brigit silently for a few moments. She had taken a stern, yet concerned, tone in her argument. She was speaking from a place of friendship. John could feel that much. He could also feel that any further discussion of second thoughts would be argued indefinitely. It was time to move on.

“What have you discovered about our Miss Buttercup?” he asked, changing the subject entirely.

“She’s gone, forever,” Brigit replied evenly. John felt the weight of the words land heavily against him. It always made him sad when a good Reaper was lost.

“How?”

“I don’t know yet, but I have the feeling Kittredge James knows. He’s the brother of Leonard James, the Reaper you told me about.”

“Do you suspect him?”

“I suspect a lot about him, but he wouldn’t give me details. I left Shelly Longmont to watch him until I could return. He had all the files Araxius could not find after Leonard’s disappearance.”

“Does he still? Have the files, I mean,” John asked quickly.

“No, I’ve confiscated them. He wanted them back, saying that he had been the hunter of the souls that had been assigned to Leonard. I don’t know if he’s been completing the assignments on his own or if he’s just kept them for sentimental value because of his brother.”

Brigit fell quiet after shrugging to indicate her ignorance of Kit James’ intentions. John let his thoughts fall to the information Brigit had lain out as she knew it. An idea was beginning to form.

“You say he hunted for Leonard?” Brigit nodded. “Maybe we can recruit him,” John said quietly.

“Recruit him? John, I don’t know about that.”

“Well, consider this: Katuri-Buttercup was our Reaper in charge of Dangerous Assignments. We need a replacement. Is there anyone on the current staff that could easily take her place? Is there anyone on staff that would be willing to fill that spot indefinitely? Apply your ‘bus theory’ here, Brigit.”

Brigit’s mind began to pick up speed. She could see where John was headed. He was using her own words against her.

“Okay,” she conceded. “I can try to recruit Kit James, but what if he declines?”

“If you can find his file,”

“Already done,” Brigit admitted. “It had been given to Leonard and he hid it. Shelly and I found it this morning.”

“Leonard had it? I will assume the old Bailey delivered it by mistake,” John growled. He still harbored the thought that the old Bailey had been one, if not the biggest of Araxius’ poorest choices for that particular job. Mistakes happened too often back then and most of them had come from Michel Dupree’s hand. “At any rate, rule number three would have applied, mistake or not. So, you have the file. Good. That will add leverage to your proposal.”

“Which will be?” Brigit urged.

“Join the firm or be crossed. That’s it. No other options.”

“I see,” Brigit sighed.

She didn’t like either option. She had the sense Kit James would fight to resist either one. Yet, she had her orders. She would deliver them and complete the assignment.

“Don’t waste too much time with it, Brigit. We know what has become of Miss Buttercup. It’s coming on time to move on. If Mr. James must be crossed, we will find another soul to take her place. Have no worry about that. There are plenty of souls that carry their bravery still and when we find one, it will be the right one. Get an answer as soon as possible and let me know. We have things to do before I go,” John explained.

“We do? Like what?”

“I need to make another set of rounds before I go. I’d like for you to join me so I may formally introduce you to the other assistants. They’ll need a face to go with the name. Have you decided who will assume your duties here?”

“I was counting on Katuri.”

“But she’s gone. Decide on another, Brigit.”

“I will.”

“Did you take care of the matter regarding Maggie?” John asked gently.

“It’s in progress. Sola is arranging a meeting,” Brigit’s voice had become cold with her reply. John merely stared at her. He could see the struggle she waged to control the emotions Maggie’s name had inspired.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need of me,” he offered. Brigit nodded. She could think of nothing else important to say.

“I promised Shelly I wouldn’t be gone long. I should head back,” she said as she stood.

John remained silent as he watched her walk the length of the hall and disappear into the portal. He prayed, for just a second, that Brigit Malone as he knew her, would survive everything that was about to come her way.

20: Surety on a Wednesday

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Maggie stared hard at the back of the head of the raven-haired woman sitting in front of her. Over and over she counted the three strands of white hair that had found their way to the surface and lay perfectly still against the ebony blanket. Sola’s question repeated itself in her mind like an echo through an empty canyon.

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Maggie asked cautiously as she counted the three white hairs one more time.

“What if something happens again? If you’ve told Brigit to stay away, you’ll be on your own. Are you sure you want to chance it?”

Maggie closed her eyes. She knew what Sola was referring to. Over the three years since that incident, Maggie had told her friends, with the exception of Gina, that it had been a freak accident. She had never told any of them about the real happenings during the time she had appeared to be comatose. Tom, the friend that had found her after falling from the ladder, had an air of deeper knowledge that he didn’t admit to and Maggie never felt inclined to push the issue. It had been a fluke, a freak accident. That was what the official story was and despite the vivid memory of it all, Maggie almost believed it.

“I’ll have to take my chances,” she finally said quietly. “I’m trying to be fair to Gina.”

“I see,” Sola’s voice said in her ear. Maggie bit her lip. “All right. I’ll ask Brigit to meet us Friday night. I’ll meet you at your apartment at seven.”

“Thank you, Sola,” Maggie sighed. Before Sola could say anything more, Maggie ended the call and clutched the cell phone tightly in her hand in an effort to control her emotion.

21: Watched

Kit stared hard at the items on the small table. The lady in black had touched them, removed them from the box and replaced them. Nothing was missing from the trove except the hoard of portfolios he had been working through since Lenny’s demise the second time. What had she been looking for? The files, as she had called them, had been on top. How had she discovered the false bottom that hid the sacred reminders of Lenny’s existence from so long ago? Did she think Kit wouldn’t know about her nosiness?

Lenny had been carrying all these items when he had originally arrived to Alpina. The pocket watch had been their grandfather’s. It had kept steady time for him during a tumultuous crossing of the Atlantic Ocean from Scotland. The locket, now badly tarnished with age, had never contained the likeness of the lass their grandfather had left behind, but rather, a tiny plait of her red hair curled into a rosette. Lenny had always known their grandfather carried these items in the breast pocket of his vest. Kit had known it too, but he had not been present the day their grandfather had died in the barn from an attack of his heart. Lenny, always the fast thinker, removed the items from his grandfather’s breast pocket and slipped them into his own before turning to alert the rest of the family to the emergency. Their grandmother, a second generation American, asked about the pocket watch, but never about the locket. It was then that Lenny and Kit understood that their grandfather had carried a secret to his grave and the brothers swore to honor that secret by never revealing the locket’s presence.

The old family bible had been unopened, as had Lenny’s journal chronicling the trip from their home in Southern Missouri to Alpina. He had stopped writing in it shortly after Kit’s arrival – whether from the distraction of company or lack of space, Kit had never asked. The pearl handled pistols appeared untouched as well. He was relieved about that. He had only seen them in Lenny’s hand once, but that been early in the days of their reunion. He remembered the tale Lenny had told of a soul searching gunslinger and how he (Lenny) had helped him sort out and come to terms with the nightmares his violence had caused. The gunslinger had given the guns to Lenny as a gesture of gratitude for the short time of friendship he had provided. Lenny had taken them with the knowledge he would never use them.

“Besides,” Lenny had said, “one of them is off by a hair. Look,” he had handed the pistol in question to Kit so that he could confirm the gun was not true. “Even if I needed them both, only one of them would be a sure shot…”

Kit slowly and carefully replaced the items Lenny had hidden in the bottom of the box. Everything was accounted for. The woman wasn’t a thief even though she had taken Lenny’s files. The logical side of Kit agreed that they were the property of Reapers, Incorporated and since Lenny had been assigned to complete them, technically, the files remained their property. The sentimental side argued that they were only a part of what Kit had of Lenny’s and should remain in his possession. After all, it was apparent that Kit was meant to roam the afterlife alone and memories of his brother would only last so long…

Daisy snorted loudly, causing Kit to look up from the surface of the table. He had tethered the horse to a post supporting the overhang of the roof. He knew she would alert him to visitors should they choose to follow him home. Something about the women he had encountered at Doc Harrison’s place suggested they weren’t finished in their business with him.

Kit narrowed his eyes as he scanned the slope approaching his cabin. She was casually walking toward his place. The gait she walked with seemed determined even if she was walking on her tip toes. It was the woman that had ambushed him. Kit wondered what she could possibly want now…

Shelly paused to catch her breath as she finally reached that point in the road where the incline started to level out. Kit James had returned to his cabin and left his horse saddled outside the door. Shelly knew it was his version of a security system. The horse would alert him to her presence as soon as she was close enough. She wondered if an animal’s spirit was more receptive to energy than that of a human spirit. The dead, Shelly knew, did not project a large aura like the living did. She wondered how close she would have to be before the ghost horse would feel her.

She heard the horse snort but thought nothing of it until she saw Kit James come to stand in the doorway of the cabin. Defiantly, Shelly stood on the opposite side of the trail between them and stared hard at the bearded man. She was surprised to feel her anger rise up again at the sight of him. She hoped Brigit came back soon. Shelly Longmont was known to contain her anger for only so long…

22: Crazy Knows

“Is he inside?” Brigit asked as soon as she spied Shelly standing at the crest of the incline. She was slightly amused to see the woman staring hard at the small cabin they had visited earlier. Shelly barely looked at Brigit long enough to register her presence before returning her sight to the abode with its door left open. Kit James had retreated to the shadows within some time ago, but Shelly remained determined to man her post until Brigit returned.

“Yes,” Shelly responded. “What did John have to say?”

“I am to offer our woolly friend a proposition,” Brigit explained. Shelly looked at her in surprise.

“What kind of proposition?”

“The same one I offered you when I finally figured out how to catch you,” Brigit smiled.

“Are y’all insane? That boy is crazier than an ant caught under a magnifying glass in the middle of August!”

Brigit stared hard at the other woman, trying to decide if she wanted to know how Shelly Longmont would know an ant’s mental state while being burned to death.

“It’s an order,” she finally said.

“Well good luck with it,” Shelly responded. “Just holler at me if you need help. I’ll have Rosie in there in a split second if you do.”

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that,” Brigit sighed as she turned and started for the open door of the cabin.

Shelly shook her head in disbelief as she watched Brigit walk away. She clearly remembered the day Brigit had freed her from the residual time loop she had been stuck in. She remembered the frustration of being intelligent enough to consider different strategies and hope for different outcomes while caught in the same space of time day after day. Shelly also remembered the surprise she had felt when the dark woman was suddenly sitting in the passenger’s side of the Cadillac she had been roaring along in over the gravel road coming from Roddy Claymore’s house. The shock of Brigit’s presence had startled Shelly so much that she was able to miss the longhorn steer standing in the middle of the road.

It had been the steer’s presence in life that had caused Shelly to flip the Cadillac onto its back into the drainage ditch running below the embankment that served as the property divider between her daddy’s ranch and the Claymore’s. She had died some three hours later, all the while wondering what parts of her life she would miss out on by being dead. Maybe, she had figured, if I start from the beginning, I’ll miss that damned steer and everything will be different.

The decision was made as her body exhaled its final breath. Shelly Longmont, the ghost, crawled from the wreckage and promptly headed back to Roddy Claymore’s house. To her surprise, she had found the Cadillac sitting where she had parked it while she had visited Roddy. Inside, on the cream colored leather seat, was her white leather purse and the matching white pillbox hat as she had left them while she had been inside with Roddy. Thinking she was on the right trail to doing things differently, Shelly crawled behind the wheel and gunned the big car down the gravel road again. No matter what she did, though, Shelly could not break free.

Time after time for fifty years, the day was the same. Then, Brigit had started to show up on the side of the road. Shelly had registered the sight of the dark woman, craning her neck to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her as she roared by, leaving a cloud of dust behind her. When she would return her eyes to the road, it was always in time to see the steer, yank the wheel to the right and then hold her breath as the Cadillac once again rolled down the embankment.

On the day Brigit freed her, Shelly had been driving faster than the day before. Today is goin’ to be different, she told herself as she watched the speedometer climb to seventy. The Cadillac was fishtailing in the loose gravel, but Shelly kept control. After all, she had ridden bronco’s that bucked a whole lot crazier than the side to side swing of the Cadillac’s long tail. She kept one eye on the shoulder of the road, looking for the dark woman she had seen during the previous three days. To her surprise, the woman was standing in the road today. Shelly never stepped on the brakes. Instead, she closed her eyes and bit her lip with the hope the dark woman would forgive her for running her down.

“Hello, Shelly,”

The sound of the voice above the Johnny Cash song playing on the radio caused Shelly to shriek in surprise and open her eyes. She couldn’t help herself, screaming in terror at the gently smiling woman beside her. Her foot instinctively pressed the gas pedal against the floorboard, sending the Cadillac careening down the gravel road.

“How the hell did you get in my car?” Shelly screamed.

“Turn left at the bull,” the dark woman responded calmly.

“Where is my purse?” Shelly demanded, trying to locate the white, patent leather bag that had been sitting on the seat where the dark woman now sat. If she could get at it, she could defend herself. ‘Rosie’ was always within reach…

“I’m sitting on it. Shelly, slow the car down and turn left at the bull,” the dark woman repeated.

“What bull?”

“That bull,” the dark woman pointed at the road ahead of them. Shelly focused her line of vision on the steer standing in the middle of the road. A horrified scream escaped her again as both feet hit the brakes. “Left, Shelly. Turn left,” the dark woman instructed calmly.

Against her natural instinct, Shelly yanked the steering wheel to the left. The Cadillac hurtled across the road, bumped and jumped the row of dirt that formed the edge of the path and busted through the barbed-wire fence before skidding to a dust filled halt in her daddy’s pasture. Shelly held to the steering wheel with white knuckled force as the dust wafted past the windows on the afternoon breeze. The woman beside her slowly reached over and turned the radio off.

“Good job,” she praised.

“Who are you and how did you get into my car?” Shelly asked through gritted teeth. She had not let go of the steering wheel. She did not turn to look at her passenger.

“My name is Brigit Malone,” the woman replied. “I’m here to offer you a job.”

“How did you get into my car?” Shelly asked again.

“Something I saw in a movie once,” Brigit offered with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s nice not to end up in the ditch for once, isn’t it?”

Shelly finally looked at the woman beside her. The gentle smile was all she saw. Quickly, Shelly twisted to look out of all the Cadillac’s windows. They were parked in the middle of the back acreage. The vague memory of going through the fence returned to Shelly’s mind and she twisted again in her seat to view the carnage. What met her sight couldn’t be believed.

“Are you kidding me?” Shelly mutterd as she threw open the driver’s side door and slid from her seat. She marched across the grass to view the fence up close. “We busted through it. I saw the wires,” Shelly admitted as she pulled on the taut wire.

“Shelly,” Brigit called. “We’re ghosts. We can’t really break things that were never broken to begin with.”

“Oh my gawd,” Shelly drawled as realization sank in on her. “I’m not wrecked! I don’t have to drive this road anymore! Sweet baby Jesus, I’m free! How did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it. You did,” Brigit replied as she leaned against the trunk of the Cadillac and folded her arms across her chest.

“I’m free!” Shelly proclaimed again before whooping loudly and clapping her hands with joy as she did a quick jig. “I can get on with my life! Oh, I can’t thank you enough,” she gushed, rushing toward Brigit with her arms wide open. Brigit held up a hand and stopped the celebration short.

“No hugs, please,” she requested. Shelly stopped and eyed the dark woman suspiciously. “I just need a bit of your time.”

Brigit had leveled her dark eyes on Shelly and despite the slight smile on the other woman’s face, Shelly knew she needed to focus and hear her out. Brigit Malone had been crazy enough to stand in the middle of the road and let Shelly run her down just so she could talk to her. Shelly, a gambler by hobby, studied the face before her. She had seen many a player give away their hand by an unconscious twitch somewhere on their face. Brigit Malone was giving nothing away. That told Shelly she needed to focus hard. Anyone crazy enough to risk their life in the middle of the road and still be calm enough for a casual conversation mean they were crazy enough to do anything. If there was one thing Shelly Longmont knew for sure, it was never good to cross someone crazier than she was.

“Okay,” Shelly finally said. “I’m listening.”

“I appreciate that,” Brigit began. She reached into the left pocket of her long black coat and pulled out a long, thin, black book. “I’ve been sent to offer you a job with our company. My boss firmly believes you should join us.”

“Your boss? Who’s that?”

“John Blackwick,”

“Never heard of him. What’s the name of your company? Is it here in Texas?” Shelly asked.

“Reapers, Incorporated is a world-wide firm. We currently have three operating offices and plans to open more.”

“Reapers, Incorporated? Never heard of that either. What do y’all do? Sell tractors?”

“Not hardly,” Brigit chuckled. “John Blackwick is the Grim Reaper. We, the Reapers, assist souls to their fates once they have crossed into the afterlife. Mr. Blackwick liked what he saw in your file. He believes you will be an asset to the firm,” Brigit explained.

Shelly stood in the afternoon sun staring hard at the dark woman. The Grim Reaper had sent Brigit Malone and now, as Shelly understood it, he wanted her to work for him as well.

“What year is it?” Shelly asked, shifting her weight to one foot.

“Twenty-oh-five,” Brigit replied. Shelly tried hard to hide the shock that rippled through her at the dark woman’s answer.

“Did you read it? My file?”

“No, not yet. I was given an order. I haven’t had time for the minute details.”

“I’m crazy, you know? Unpredictable when I have my wits about me,” Shelly warned.

“There’s nothing about our work that is predictable, Shelly. We appreciate people that can think fast. In fact, it’s kind of an unwritten requirement to being considered for a position with us.”

“So, what are my options here? What if I say ‘no’?”

Brigit pushed herself from where she leaned against the trunk of the Cadillac and squared her shoulders.

“If that is to be your decision, I have no choice but to assist you to your final fate. Are you ready to do that?”

Shelly turned away and looked at the blue sky above. She was being given two choices. Was she ready to face her fate? What had she missed since dying? What kind of world would she move through if she said ‘yes’? Was she ready for that? Suddenly, Shelly turned and walked to the driver’s side of the Cadillac. Brigit watched on in silence as the blonde woman slid behind the steering wheel.

From where she stood behind the Cadillac, she watched as Shelly applied fresh lipstick to her lips, angling the rearview mirror so she could see herself. When she was done, Brigit looked on as Shelly slid out of the car, pushed the lock on the door down and then shut it. She set the white pillbox hat on her head and set the white patent leather purse to hang from her forearm by its thin strap. When she faced Brigit again, Shelly Longmont forced a pleasant smile to her face.

“I can’t very well meet the Grim Reaper himself lookin’ all a mess, now can I?”

Brigit laughed out loud and shook her head as she put Shelly’s file back into her coat pocket.

“I suppose not,” she said as she extended a hand toward Shelly. “Welcome to the firm.”

“Thank you,” Shelly replied politely as she shook the hand that had been offered to her. “Now, where are we goin’?”

“First, we go to the trees over there,” Brigit pointed and Shelly turned. She was confused as to why they would go to the two cottonwood trees standing alone in the field. The sight of them had always seemed eerie to Shelly, especially at sunset. There had always been a faint glow hanging between them. She had always assumed it to be her imagination, but it had been enough to keep her from going near them as an adult. “They will take us where we need to go.”

“What are we gonna do? Knock one down and ride it like a witch’s broom?”

Brigit laughed again.

“You’ll see,” she promised. “You’re crazy,” Brigit laughed as she started walking.

“You should know,” Shelly called after her. “You’re crazier than I am…”

Shelly watched the cabin of Kit James through narrowed eyes. She knew she was right about him. He was crazy; but over the past three years, Shelly was all too aware that crazy was an unwritten requirement to the job of reaping. Kept under control, crazy kept one’s existence intact. She only wondered how much control Kit James had over his.

“I’ll guess we’ll find out,” she muttered, her eyes never leaving the cabin’s door.

23: The Proposal

Kit watched the woman in black as she crossed the yard to his opened door. The blonde woman had stayed behind. Kit was glad about that, though he wasn’t sure why. Although he had seen plenty of women over the years in Alpina, some of them dressed more scandalously than this one, none of them had held his attention longer than it took to simply measure their presence. The blonde woman held his attention from where he sat inside the cabin and he couldn’t figure why.

“May I come in?” the woman in black asked when she stopped just outside the door.

“Suit yourself,” Kit sighed. “I don’t figure it would stop you if I said ‘no’,” he commented. Brigit stepped inside, but did not move any further. “What do you want now?”

“I’ve come to offer you a job,” Brigit explained.

“As a Reaper?”

“Yes,” Brigit confirmed. “As you well know, I am short a Reaper and her duties cannot afford to be ignored for very long. You would be taking her – and your brother’s - place, continuing the work they were both involved in. You said you hunted for Leonard. We’d like you to do more than hunt souls.”

Kit stared hard at the woman standing inside the doorway. She had no fear of him. In fact, she didn’t look to have fear of anything. For a second, Kit wondered where that bravery stemmed from.

“Ma’am, how long have you been a Reaper” Kit asked.

“Five years now. Why do you ask?”

“Back in the days when Lenny was a Reaper, there were some unsavory characters in these parts. Not all of them went peaceful-like to the other side. I mean, women and children were pretty easy for Lenny, but then, he had a kindness most men don’t have toward women and children. Even some of the men went on all right, but most of them didn’t,” Kit explained.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“It was the dangerous men I helped Lenny with the most,” Kit continued, ignoring the question for the moment. “Lenny wasn’t a fighter, not really. I mean, he could hold his own; but his true weapons were his words and his thoughts. I’m not as smart as Lenny and I’m certainly not as kind as my brother was. I think you’d be making a mistake,” he warned.

“What happened to Miss Buttercup?” Brigit asked. Kit James looked her in the eye. She could see he was deciding whether to reveal those details or to keep them hidden.

“I killed her,” he finally said. “She was about to reap a soul that belongs to me. I couldn’t allow that. I shot before I thought twice,” he admitted. “While I am right sorry for the loss of your friend, I can’t say I’m sorry for saving Ned Cadoc for myself.”

“Who is Ned Cadoc?” Brigit asked, fighting to control the anger that sparked at his confession.

“A fella I mean to kill,” Kit answered matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“There’s some folks that just need killin’ in this world, ma’am, and Ned Cadoc is one of them. I intend to make it happen.” Kit didn’t feel the need to go into a full explanation of Ned Cadoc as the town’s bully and murdering cur of himself and his beloved brother.

Brigit studied the man’s face through the dim light inside the cabin. He was dead serious in his intent. She wondered why he was biding his time in taking care of his business. When she gave voice to the question, Kit James sighed heavily.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself,” he admitted. “I guess I’ve been waiting, kind of like a spider. Ned Cadoc seems to always be just at the edge of the web, you know? Kind of like he knows what will happen if he comes too close. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get him further into the web, but it’s beyond me right now. I wish Lenny were here to help me, because I really want this. I’ve wanted it ever since Lenny died the second time.”

“I don’t know what to tell you about that,” Brigit replied quietly. “But at the moment, I need to focus on why I’m here. Miss Buttercup was our Reaper in charge of Dangerous Cases. She was a fighter. At times, she had to be unkind. At time, she to pass a soul to that place where they would never know their fate, never know their final judgment. It’s a hard office for most Reapers to work. You’re admitting to qualities needed for the job. Are you interested in taking it? If not,” she reached into the left pocket of her long, black coat and withdrew the black file. Kit’s eyes followed the movement keenly. He knew what she held between her fingers. “I have orders to cross you. That will mean you will never finish your business with Ned Cadoc. It means your current existence is finished. If you think I won’t or can’t do this, please think again. I will cross you, one way or another, by any means necessary.”

Kit met her dark gaze. There was something deep in her eyes that told him she was not issuing an idle threat. Brigit Malone was making a promise.

“You ever killed a soul, ma’am?”

“More than I care to recount,” Brigit answered. Her tone was cold. “Now, what is your answer, Mr. James?”

Kit kept his silence. He needed just a little more time. Ned Cadoc was in Alpine, and therefore, close to the web. He just needed to draw him in and do what needed to be done. After that, it would make no difference to him whether he stayed or crossed.

“Can I think about it?”

“What is there to think about?” Brigit asked.

His request shouldn’t have shocked her. She knew she had asked almost the same question when John Blackwick had approached her. She had made a promise she intended to keep. John had given her two options. With time, Brigit had come to realize that a continued existence was the only way she could keep her promise. John had known it all along, and yet, he had remained patient enough to let her come to the same knowledge on her own. Brigit knew it was her turn to do the same for Kit James.

“Two days,” she finally said. “Is that acceptable?”

“It’ll do,” Kit nodded in agreement.

“It will have to do, Mr. James. When I return, I will need your final decision.”

“You’ll have it,” the hunter promised.

Brigit slipped the man’s file back into her coat pocket and turned. Something in her gut assured her she could trust Kit James. Something about him told her he would keep his word.

“Well, did you cross him?” Shelly asked when Brigit was close enough that she wouldn’t have to yell. Brigit did not appear cross, like she normally did when a situation did not turn out as she had hoped.

“Not yet.”

“What are you waiting for?” Shelly demanded.

“A decision.”

“Are you kidding me? What if he decides to run?”

Brigit thought about Shelly’s question. A half-smile came to her face.

“If he runs – which I don’t believe he will – I will assign Kit James to you and you can cross him.”

“Me? Why me?”

“I don’t know. You seem overly concerned with him. Maybe it will give you something to do besides training the monkeys,” Brigit called over her shoulder as she started the walk back to town. “We have two days, Shelly. There’s work to be done in the meantime.”

24: Dear Mama

She closed the file softly; her heart heavy with the meager contents on the first few pages. Blindly, her right hand lay the book on the desk as her left hand picked up the next one. The first file had been for Zinnia Quinn, aged four. The next file was for Rose Quinn, aged five. Sisters, Mama Dee saw. Rose’s life, like her younger sister’s had been short. Her heart grew heavier as she closed Rose’s file and picked up the third. This one bore the name of Lily Quinn, she been only two years old when her last breath was taken.

The sisters had been asleep when death had touched them. They had not been filled with fear in the moments before the flames engulfed them. Their father, once a kind man, had lost his mind over the death of his wife. The girls – his daughters – had been a daily reminder that his wife, his heart’s true love, was gone. In a long moment of madness, he had tucked the girls in, kissed them on the forehead and sweetly told them to dream well. He stood in the doorway of their room, silently praying for forgiveness as he watched them sink deep into their slumber. They were beautiful, just like their mother; but she was gone from him. He couldn’t stand the daily reminders of her smile, the shape of her face, the sound of her laughter coming from mouths that bore her lips. Daughters needed their mothers. What did he know about raising girls? What could he show them that their mother would have a better knowing of? They were better off with her than with him.

“Forgive me,” he had said before turning away from the sleeping girls.

His mind went dark as he walked out the modest farmhouse that held all of his happy moments. His hands were steady as he pulled the gas can from the bed of his truck and walked to the corner of the house where the girls slept inside. His eyes were unfocused as he splashed the gasoline against the wall. He felt nothing when he struck the match and held it against the fuel-soaked wood. His mind did not register the heat that roared wildly, brushing against his face as it spread. His memories were going to be gone. He didn’t feel the need to think, feel or see anything ever again.

Mama Dee closed her eyes and stifled the sob that rose in the back of her throat. This particular tragedy had happened so many years ago, but lately, it seemed to her a constant tragedy. She didn’t – couldn’t – understand how a parent could go so far. She couldn’t fathom the demons that haunted an adult’s mind to take them to that place where they would harm a child, taking their innocence, or taking their life from them.

“Are you well, Mama?”

Mama Dee opened her eyes to find John Blackwick standing just inside the door to her small office. His ice blue eyes were focused intently on her. How long had he been watching?

“Just sad, John,” Mama Dee admitted. “I think these are finally starting to get to me.” She set young Lily’s file with those of her sisters and shook her head with involuntary sadness.

“It’s understandable,” John said. His voice held a note of sympathy in it. “There came a time when I had to step away from the children, myself. My imagination tended to fill in the blanks too much and my heart reacted too quickly. The sadness I felt for the children was engrossing,” John paused to look at the little old woman sitting at the small desk. “I can only imagine what you’re seeing these days. Maybe it’s time you stepped away from this department, Mama,” he suggested.

“Who will take care of the babies?” Mama Dee asked quickly.

“Mama, you’ve trained everyone on our staff how to effectively deal with the crossing of a child. Have you heard of ‘The Bus Theory’?” Mama Dee suddenly chuckled and nodded in confirmation. “Brigit explained it to me earlier and I have to admit it makes sense. Especially since I’ve been hit by a bus, well, it was what you Americans call a ‘van’, but still, I understand the theory,” John laughed lightly. “My point remains, dear Mama, that you’ve made sure our Reapers can step easily into your shoes. Your heart is breaking over stories you cannot control. Maybe it’s time for you to turn the reins over to someone else and do something different for a while. Take the time to heal. If you want to come back to the department, you will be able to; but you need to take a break from it before it pushes you into an eternal sadness.”

“You’re probably right, John,” Mama Dee sighed with agreement. The thought had occasionally snuck through her thoughts, but she had never stopped to truly examine it. Mama Dee had never been one to quit her mission once it had been assigned to her. “I’ll give it some thought,” she promised. “I’ll try to figure out what else I might want to do.”

“What about –“

“No. Before you even go there, no. I’ve already told Brigit not to even think about it. I will resign – flat out resign – if y’all put me in the assistant’s chair again,” Mama Dee stated firmly.

When John burst into laughter, Mama Dee stared at him as if he had lost his mind. She had thought her firm refusal would upset him. The sight of him laughing hysterically confused her.

“Now what is so damned funny?” she demanded.

“You,” John gasped. “You are so adorable when you jump to conclusions. Please, don’t be offended my dear. I understand what you’re saying,” John wiped his eyes of the phantom tears that had arisen in his laughter. “The assistant’s chair wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. I was thinking more along the lines of assisting Belinda. She always seems to be just one step ahead of her workload and I know that you have a solid relationship between you that there would be little reason for drama like there’s been with others,” John explained. “Brigit has yet to name her replacement, but if you were as firm with her as you’ve been with me, you can be sure that you’re safe from the responsibility. Brigit holds you in high regard, Mama. She would not intentionally do something to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know,” Mama Dee sighed. “That girl’s got her own troubles right now. She’s not talking to me much about it, but I know her well enough to know she’s upset.”

“Maggie?” John ventured to ask. Mama Dee nodded.

“Of course, I can’t say I’ve been real understanding toward her about it all. I don’t know what’s bothering me about it most: Maggie’s movin’ on or Brigit’s hangin’ on without doing anything to make Maggie do the same.”

“Yet, the obvious remains, Mama. Despite our opinions on the scenario,” John spoke gently, “we will always side with Brigit. We’re her friends. It is what friends do. To further the obvious, Brigit – as well as we are – is dead and gone to the living world. Maggie is still alive. Is it so fair to expect her to remain totally faithful to a ghost?”

“No, I know,” Mama Dee agreed. “It’s what I’ve told Brigit when I’ve had a minute; but it doesn’t change what I think. Brigit’s done a lot for Maggie.”

“I know.”

“But I know you’re speaking the truth. I just hope, I guess, that Maggie remembers how much Brigit loves her and how far Brigit is always willing to go for her,” Mama Dee wished out loud.

“For the sake of Brigit’s heart, I hope the same, Mama. Now, tell me, will you consider a department change?”

Mama Dee studied the Grim Reaper for a few seconds. She wondered how he always knew when she needed to unburden her heart, when she needed the wisdom she had not yet found a voice for. John Blackwick was a kind soul, Mama Dee was reminded, and a good friend. This moment was another moment to count him as a blessing.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised. Her eyes returned to the files laying on the desk before her. The Quinn sisters were waiting. “I have work to do right now.”

“Are you sure you want to go now? We can find another Reaper to take care of it,” John offered but Mama Dee shook her head.

“No, I will take this one. These little girls need me.” John nodded in understanding before turning to leave. “John?” He turned; surprised that she would call him back so quickly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear Mama, anytime.”

25: Equals

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Mister James?”

The kid stood in the doorway, watching Kit intently. The hunter was sitting at the small table, his hands splayed on its surface palms down. His eyes were focused on the ends of his fingers as if each one pointed to a specific idea he needed to consider. Kit had been sitting like that for some time. He was slow to raise his eyes and even slower to acknowledge his new visitor’s presence. Finally, his eyes blinked and his hands curled to hide his thoughts.

“Oh, hey there, Josie,” Kit greeted. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, I reckon,” Josie replied. “Are you all right? You look like you got a load of troubles hangin’ around your neck.”

“I reckon I do,” Kit sighed. “What are you doing here? Are you all right?”

“I asked you first,” Josie said, knowing he was trying to change the subject. It struck the kid as odd that he would ask the question. Kit James was not the kind of man to be concerned with her feelings. At least, not vocally concerned. If Kit James was ever concerned, he would simply watch her until his mind was put to rest. At any other time, he was usually too busy yelling at her to wonder what lay in her heart.

“I asked you second,” Kit countered. “Age trumps beauty,” he grinned, a slight line of white teeth showed from under his thick moustache.

“Don’t call me that,” Josie growled. Kit stared hard at her, his grin slowly falling away. “I ain’t no beauty.” A few seconds of silence hang between them as her feathers took their time to smooth out.

“Josie,” Kit patted the surface of the table across from him in an invitation to sit with him. The girl obeyed his suggestion even though she was still scowling at him. “Let’s talk like friends,” Kit said gently. “Now,”

“You think I’m a friend?” Josie asked as she crossed to the chair he wanted her to occupy.

“Most days,” Kit admitted.

“Really?”

“Are you goin’ to let me talk? Or are you goin’ to keep askin’ silly questions?” Kit bellowed in irritation.

“Sorry, Mr. James,” Josie offered.

Kit watched his young friend to see if she would cry. She usually did after he yelled at her. This time, though, Josie merely slid onto the chair and watched him while waiting patiently for whatever he needed to say. Kit was sure he could see the corners of her mouth twitching in the effort to resist lifting her cheeks into a broad grin.

“Now,” he began, “we’re the same here at this table Josie Gail. It don’t matter how old we were when we were killed, or how long we’ve been wanderin’ around as ghosts. What matters is the sharin’ of thoughts and knowing we can trust each other. Do you understand?” Josie nodded eagerly. “Now, I’ve got some decisions I need to make. Do you remember that lady, Brigit?” Josie nodded again. “She came to visit again. She gave me a choice I need to make a decision about.”

“So, what do you need me for?”

“Because, Josie, I don’t have Lenny around to talk to and you’re the only one around here with some intelligence,” Kit explained with strained patience.

Josie felt her cheeks flush with the compliment. No one had ever noticed – much less commented – how smart she really was. Ever. Unconsciously, Josie Gail sat up a little straighter and listened more keenly to what her friend was saying. Kit James explained it all and Josie hang on every word. Her opinion was important to him. She knew she had to honor him by listening carefully. They were friends and Josie knew real friends listened carefully when things were serious.

When Kit finished explaining his dilemma, Josie shook her head. It was a hard decision and she felt sorry for him. If Kit James decided to become a Reaper, he’d have a purpose for existing aside from the burning wish to kill Ned Cadoc. Josie felt that was a good thing. If he rejected the offer, Brigit Malone would reap him and it wouldn’t matter whether he had unfinished business or folks left behind that would remember and miss him. The girl felt that was the bad part. It was a black and white situation as far as Josie could see and she said as much after Kit had slipped back into his thoughts.

“So, what do you think I should do?” Kit asked. “I mean, she’s given me two days to think about it.”

“Do you want to be a Reaper?”

“I don’t know.”

“Could you make a deal with her?” Josie asked. Her mind had started to churn with an idea. As she spoke, it began to churn a little faster.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Josie smiled, “make a bargain. You’ll do the job on one condition - no, better make that two conditions.”

“And what would those conditions be?” Kit asked.

“One: you get to take out Ned Cadoc for what he done to you and Lenny,” Jose held up a forefinger to punctuate her point. Kit nodded in understanding of the girl’s thought.

“And the second condition?”

“You get to let me be your sidekick,” Josie suggested proudly. “I could watch your back just like you used to do for Lenny.”

“No,” Kit said firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because,”

“Because nothin’! You said we were equals, Kit James, and now you’re back to actin’ like I’m just a good-for-nothin’ little girl!” Josie jumped up from the chair she had faced the hunter in. “Well, I ain’t good-for-nothin’! It ain’t my fault I wasn’t borned a boy,” she hissed angrily.

“Josie, calm down.”

“My whole life everybody saw only what was on the outside. The only reason my ma let me dress like I do was because it was easier to mend my brother’s clothes when they grew out of them. Nobody ever saw I was just like my brothers. I never wanted to be girl. I didn’t ask to be borned this way!”

The girl was standing by the door now. Her small fists were clenched in the attempt to control the rage that was boiling inside. Kit could only watch on in stunned silence. Josie was usually quick to temper at the slightest reminder of her true gender, but he had never seen her so angry – not like this.

Realizing there was nothing he could say to cool her temper, Kit remained silent when she spun on booted heel and stormed out of the small cabin. The thoughts running through his mind had come to a standstill and they remained that way when he rose to go to the door and watch Josie Gail run away.

26: Prey

The blade was cold. Inanely, he twirled it in his hand in the blind habit he had carried into the afterlife with him. His eyes were narrowed, trying to see clearly across the space from where he was hiding in the shadow of the pine tree to the dim shadows of Kit James’ cabin. It had been a hub of activity today. He never imagined the elder James brother to have so many female friends. The blonde woman had distracted Ned for quite some time. The shortness of her skirt left little to his imagination compared to the modest dresses of the womenfolk he was used to seeing. The short sleeves of her white blouse revealed slender arms of lily white skin. Ned wondered how a woman dressed like that remained unscathed by men with no morals…

The woman in black, though, had given Ned a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something about her that pushed against the door of a childlike fear. She was dressed like a man though one could tell that she was most definitely a woman. She had been the one to talk with Kit James inside the cabin. Ned wondered why.

Then the Gail girl had arrived. Ned knew of her well enough. Josie was another one that dressed like a man but could not – despite her valiant efforts – hide the fact that she was female. She had been Jim Dougherty’s undoing, but Ned had never really blamed the Gail girl for that. Jim’s lack of morals had led him to the actions that had resulted in his being hung by the neck from the branch of the old Black Walnut tree. Josie Gail had been minding her own business, fishing from the creek when Jim had come upon her. Ned knew the story. Logically, the whole thing was Jim’s fault, plain and simple.

The boys were all gone again. This time, they weren’t coming back. Jim, Chalk and Bobby had been carried away by the same winds that had taken Lenny James after Ned had cut his throat. Kit James had hunted them down, picking them off with a bullet through the heart when they least expected it. Each time, Ned had watched it happen. It was as if Kit wanted him to know exactly what was planned for him. Kit James was a hunter and if there was anything Ned was sure of, it was the knowing that a hunter could be extremely patient with their prey.

Kit had been waiting for years. Ned had often wondered why the man didn’t just get it over with. Why did he wait for Ned? Why not simply hunt him down and wait for that moment when Ned had let his guard down? They had crossed paths in The Drink House the other day. Kit had the perfect opportunity then, but he had shot the yellow girl instead. Ned had used the distraction caused by the winds to make his exit rather than standing his ground and calling Kit out. He could have thrown a knife, piercing Kit James in the heart and sent the hunter off on his own winds. Instead, Ned had run without the slightest thought of anything else.

As he continued to watch the cabin, Ned made a decision. Kit James would no longer hunt him. No, Ned decided, he would call Kit out. There was going to be a fight. Ned was determined to face the man that had made it his mission to eventually kill him. He was determined to never think of running again. He was tired of feeling like prey and as soon as the conditions were right, Ned was going to face Kit James once and for all.

27: Ready

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Maggie felt herself start to frown against the question Gina posed. The flame atop the tapered candle between them danced in the wake of a server’s quick rush past their table. Maggie reached for her wine glass, wondering why her girlfriend would question her wishes.

“Don’t you?” Maggie asked before taking a drink from the deep red wine. She let it slip over her tongue slowly before swallowing it.

“I hadn’t thought it was a possibility,” Gina admitted. “I mean, yes, I would love to live with you, to see you every day; but are you sure you want me to move into the space you shared with Brigit? Isn’t that some kind of sacrilege or something?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me,” Maggie replied. “My apartment is paid for. It has been since Brigit died. It’s only sensible that you move in with me and put your money toward better things.” Maggie paused in her argument and eyed the woman sitting across from her. “Are you hesitant about ‘us’?”

“No, not at all,” Gina was quick to assure her. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“Maggie,” Gina set the fork she had been using to push peas around her plate on the table and rested her elbows on the edge. “I’m crazy about you. You know that. I love everything about you, but there is a part of you that doesn’t belong to me. And I’m okay if it never does. You still carry her ghost on your heart. I just want to make sure you’re really ready for this step in our relationship. If you’re not ready to give up Brigit’s space and the memories you two created there, I don’t want you to force yourself to because of a need I can remedy on my own. I can find another apartment in the blink of an eye. Would I love to live with you, sleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning? Yes, I would. Do I expect you to completely forget about Brigit and what she meant to you? No, I do not. I don’t want to take her place, Maggie. I want to create my own place in your heart, but I want to be sure that you’re honestly ready for that to happen.”

Maggie met Gina’s gaze. Sola had confirmed that Brigit would be meeting them tomorrow night at Maggie’s apartment. Maggie would have her chance to speak her heart, to make the request of Brigit that she had never imagined she would make until she had met Gina. Gina was right to think that there was a part of her heart that would always belong to Brigit. They had been soul mates and Death had made a point of separating them. Maggie had faith that she would be with Brigit again in one life or another. In the meantime, she wanted to know tangible love again and Gina provided it.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I weren’t ready,” Maggie finally answered. “Brigit is a ghost. I promise not to let her memory come between us.”

“And I promise to respect her place within you,” Gina vowed.

Maggie stared hard at her girlfriend for a few more seconds. Even though Brigit was going to be upset with what she would be asked to do, Maggie had the sense that Brigit would understand if she knew Gina. Anyone that was willing to honor and respect the memory of someone that had set the bar so high couldn’t logically be disapproved of. But Maggie knew well that matters of the heart were seldom logical.

“Great,” Maggie smiled. “Start packing because you’re moving in with me.”

“I look forward to it,” Gina smiled back before picking up her own wine glass and saluting Maggie. “To the next step,” she toasted.

Maggie only smiled before accepting the toast and drinking. Friday night couldn’t come soon enough…

28: The Promise

Brigit sat in the booth, her eyes focused on the movement happening outside the window. It was rare that she would sit in the booth where her friend, Edmund J. Polly, used to sit. She wondered if she appeared as sad as he had during his wait for the lover that would never come. Edmund had waited for so long, never leaving his post out of the faith that Liliana would find him. He had made a promise. He would wait.

A couple walked past the phantom window, catching Brigit’s eye. For a second, she was jealous of them and their ability to see one another, to hold the other’s hand, to hear the sound of one another’s laughter. She missed having that ability. She missed the warmth of Maggie’s presence in her arms. It had been her greatest treasure and now it was nothing more than a memory. Brigit craned her neck to watch the couple as they walked their path. Her jealousy waned; morphing into a wish that they remain so happy in whatever life they would have together.

Sighing, Brigit returned her sight to the movement along the sidewalk as she picked up the cup of coffee Giuseppe had prepared for her. Her thoughts returned to the memory of Edmund J. Polly. He had waited while Liliana had moved on with her life. He had waited without knowing what had become of her. Brigit wondered if his not knowing had been a painful thought to him, or a blessing. She knew everything about Maggie’s existence. Lately, that knowing had become painful. Now, she wondered which side of the coin would be better…

“You seem pensive.”

Brigit looked up to see John standing beside the empty bench of the booth. His ice blue eyes danced with concern. Brigit motioned for him to join her before turning to signal Giuseppe for her his services. The big Italian nodded in acknowledgment before turning to begin the task of making John’s tea.

“I’m just thinking,” Brigit admitted as she settled against the back of the bench she sat on.

“May I ask about what?”

“Maggie.”

“I see,” John sighed. “Have you been to talk with her yet?”

“No. We meet tomorrow night,” Brigit informed him. “Sola has arranged everything.”

Her voice was calm, as if she were resigned to the situation. John gazed at her for a few seconds. He could see the sadness beginning to creep into her eyes. He wished, for half a second, he could do something to change the situation. Giuseppe’s presence at the booth broke his concentration. John thanked the café’s owner for the cup of tea he had delivered and watched as the big man walked back to the counter.

“Are you having regrets, Brigit?”

“Regrets about what?”

John shrugged as he picked up the teacup and blew gently across the fragrant brew. It was a habit he still practiced though he had been dead so many years. Brigit was watching him intently.

“Do you regret making the deal you made with me? To remain while she continues to live?”

“I made a promise to her,” Brigit reminded quietly. “You provided me a means to keep that promise. I don’t regret that. In fact, I have been grateful for it. If you had crossed me, if I had not had the heart to keep my promise, I wouldn’t be able to see Maggie at all. I wouldn’t be able to still show my love for her.”

“Will that change after tomorrow night?” John asked gently. Brigit sighed and looked out the window. “Will you continue to keep your promise to Maggie?”

Her thoughts returned to Edmund J. Polly once more. He had waited, never once considering the thought of breaking his promise to do so. If Brigit had not been handed Liliana’s file, if she had not recognized the woman’s name and the importance of it, Edmund would still be sitting where she now sat, waiting. It had been as stroke of luck that she had been able to reunite Edmund with his true love. She wondered if that same luck would occur for her.

“Yes, I will keep my promise; but I am concerned,” Brigit admitted. “When Maggie’s time comes, when Jean-Pierre – or one of the new Baileys – must take her, how will I know? Rule number three will prevent me from crossing her.”

“This is true,” John agreed as a knowing smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Rule number three does prohibit you from crossing her as it is written and known about you that Maggie was your ‘wife’.”

“Is,” Brigit corrected.

“Is,” John repeated. “However, it does not prevent you from being present.” His smile became a grin. Brigit looked at him suspiciously.

“Spill it,” she instructed, fully aware that he was up to something.

“When Maggie’s time eventually comes, I’ve issued the edict that her file is to be immediately delivered to me. Jean-Pierre knows the importance of this. He met Maggie during the rescue. He was greatly moved by the love story you two share, and since he is such a romantic, he did not hesitate to agree,” John explained. “At any rate, my love, you will be summoned at once when Maggie’s time comes.”

“Do the other Reapers know you’ve done this?”

“No. This is an arrangement Jean-Pierre and I have concocted solely for you. Not even Mama Dee knows I’ve made this arrangement, though I think it might ease her concern for you and Maggie if I told her. She doesn’t seem to know whose side to be on at the moment.”

Brigit looked down at her coffee. She hadn’t given thought to her friend’s thoughts or feelings about what was happening between her and Maggie lately. Mama Dee loved them both. Brigit suddenly understood why Mama Dee had been so cross with her lately.

“I’ll talk with her about it soon,” Brigit offered. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, love, I don’t want to see you sad. Even though we both know what will happen tomorrow night, I want you to find some hope that you will see Maggie again. I cannot ease the pain you will feel, but I trust that you will continue to remain on this side of life and find some comfort in knowing that you kept your promise to her. I am the Grim Reaper. I do have some power over the events that happen on this side of life. In your case, I’ve decided to exercise that power,” John chuckled. “I only regret that I cannot do more.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” John shrugged. “It’s a small favor in the greater scheme of things. Now,” he paused and sipped from his tea again. “What’s going on with your Mr. James?”

Brigit recounted the conversation with Kit James and the agreement to give him time to consider the proposal. John found himself at ease with Brigit’s decision and amused by the opinion Shelly Longmont held toward the potential new Reaper. As he listened to Brigit tell of Kit’s admission to sending Katuri-Buttercup into Limbo, John felt his heart grow heavy once more. When the woman finally fell silent, John shook his head to clear the sad thoughts that had seeped in.

“The proposal remains the same,” he said. “If he rejects the offer, cross him. If he accepts, train him properly and set him to work. However, please be sure that he fully understands that he cannot just go around shooting souls as a means of crossing them,” he instructed. The sly grin that came to Brigit’s face caught his eye.

“I’m going to give him to Shelly for training – if he accepts,” Brigit explained.

“Is that wise?”

“What doesn’t kill him will only make him better,” Brigit chuckled. “I think it’ll be fine.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” John laughed.

29: Thinking

He sighed heavily and rolled onto his back so that he could stare at the ceiling again. It looked the same as it had earlier, bleak and blank – an eager canvas onto which he could project his thoughts. So far, he had stared at the ceiling four times.

Kit had sat at the small table until almost sunset. At that point, he realized it was going to be a long night and that Daisy still needed to be tended to. Grateful for the temporary distraction, Kit had led the horse to the small stable where she slept. He took his time brushing her down and storing her tack. By the time the sky glowed a fiery red, Kit found himself sitting at the small table again, lost in the thoughts over the events of the day. He sat there until the darkness of the night had crept into the small cabin. When he could no longer see the outlines of his hands splayed on the table, the hunter rose and built a fire in the hearth. Once it was burning bright, he went to the small cot next to the wall, lay down and proceeded to stare at the ceiling.

The thoughts regarding Brigit Malone and the offer to join Reapers, Incorporated were pretty straight forward. It was a black or white situation, but the conversation with Josie (before she had lost her temper) had left Kit wondering if he could insert some grey into the scenario. He had been blunt in telling Brigit Malone he intended to take care of Ned Cadoc. He had stretched the truth about biding his time, weaving the web he hoped would ensnare the cur that had killed Lenny twice. The real truth was that Ned Cadoc had made it a point to stay out of Alpina as much as he could. Where Ned went, Kit didn’t know. All he knew was that Ned took good advantage of the fact that he was not confined to Alpina and its upper regions as Kit was.

Yet, now he was back. Kit had no idea why, nor did he care. All he could see was that Ned was present once again and this time, somehow, Kit knew it was time to follow through with his intentions.

Josie had suggested bargaining with Brigit Malone, to have the condition that he be allowed to finish his business with Ned. At some point, Ned was bound to disappear again. If Kit agreed to become a Reaper, he would have the luxury of time and possibly the advantageous tricks a Reaper could employ when tracking a soul down. Kit remembered Lenny having such abilities. He remembered how his brother could suddenly disappear from the room at Doc Harrison’s place just by walking into the tiny pantry only to meet up with Kit wherever he might be a few hours later. He had often wondered why Lenny needed him to hunt souls when he possessed skills that would allow him to do it for himself more quickly. He had always meant to ask his brother this question, but it never crossed his mind when there was nothing else to talk about. He had never thought to ask his younger brother many questions about a Reaper’s abilities. He had always thought they would continue the way they were – he as a hunter, Lenny as a Reaper.

Somewhere amid the memories of his brother and the thoughts of a Reaper’s potential abilities, Kit realized that becoming a Reaper was an opportunity that could work for him. Especially if he could strike the bargain regarding Ned Cadoc. Then, Kit knew, there would be no place the killer could hide because he, Kit James, would be able to travel the land freely.

He had been tied to Alpina for the most part of his existence after dying. Sure, he could roam the high country and part of the plain below, but he couldn’t really leave the town’s sight. When he would ride Daisy in the direction of Denver, he could never seem to go further than that point where Ned had gunned Lenny down. If he tried, Daisy would rear up on her hind legs as if she were being forcefully pulled back from that place. Once, Kit had dismounted and tried to cross the invisible line on foot. He had managed two paces past the spot where Lenny had drawn his last breath before he was dropped to his knees with a nausea he had never known before. When he managed to crawl back to the safety of Daisy’s shadow, Kit had felt the nausea immediately lift and was able to return to his feet. On that day, Kit decided, the land that had absorbed Lenny’s blood had a power of its own. For the love of his brother, he would respect it. Never again would he attempt to pass it. Whether the place was holy or evil, Kit did not know, but he knew without a doubt that it was a boundary he could not cross.

Although he was tied to Alpina, Kit was grateful he still had his mind. He was not tied to the thoughts of any one particular day, going through the same routine from sunup to sundown. He knew some of the souls still wandering the area were caught in that cycle. Kit almost felt sorry for them. There were other souls, however, that were like him. They still possessed a working intelligence and could differentiate one day from the next.

Josie Gail was one of those souls. Kit knew she could tell the difference between the days even though she went through the same routine as she had done it on the day she died. He knew she was hoping for a different outcome each time. He knew she was aware that nothing would change.

The girl was tied to Alpina like he was, but she seemed content to be so. Alpina was the only home Josie had ever known. Her whole family had lived and died here. Only one of Josie’s four brothers had spent the later years of his life down in Denver, but even he returned to Alpina to await the fate of his afterlife. The small cemetery on the eastern end of town contained one corner that held every member of the Gail family that had ever lived in Alpina, Colorado.

Kit thought about the second condition Josie had suggested. She wanted to be his ‘sidekick’, like some trusted friend they wrote about in dime store novels. She offered to look out for him during whatever adventure he might find himself on. She offered to watch over him the same way he had watched out for Lenny…

He sighed and sat up on the edge of the cot, setting his feet firmly on the floor and resting his elbows on his knees as he continued to think of Josie Gail. She wanted to go with him - that much was obvious. They were friends despite their age differences. She was the only soul in Alpina that talked to him on a regular basis. In fact, she was the only soul that talked with him at all. He knew he would feel bad about leaving her behind, but it was for her own good. Brigit Malone had said he would be taking on the Dangerous Cases. Kit couldn’t fathom any place for a girl of Josie’s character in that kind of scenario. If he was going to be a fighter more often than not, he knew he would be distracted with the worry for his only friend. Rejecting Josie’s suggestion had been a knee-jerk reaction and it had set the girl off on a rant that Kit had been unable to interrupt, but as he examined it now, he knew it was what was right in order to keep her safe.

Standing from the cot, Kit stretched his arms and sighed again. Morning was breaking over the world again. He felt the change in the air that announced its arrival. Opening the door to the small cabin, the hunter leaned against the door frame and turned his eyes to the sky to watch as it lightened with the haze of the sun’s approach on the horizon. He raised his sight to stare hard at a cloud that hang all alone in the grey sky. As he studied it, he realized he had given no thought at all to the idea of rejecting Brigit Malone’s offer. He had not entertained the cessation of his existence nor the turning to face whatever fate he had merited during the life he had lived so long ago. Kit James found he wasn’t the least bit interested in finding out what the Almighty’s decision regarding him might be. He had other things he was more concerned about. A judgment of his life was low on the list.

He’d be leaving Alpina. He’d be leaving Josie Gail and his horse, Daisy, behind; but it was what Kit knew he had to do so he could complete his own assignment in killing Ned Cadoc. Whatever happened after that, Kit decided, would be thought about then.

30: Thursday Morning

She was mad. There was no denying that. Kit James had said they were friends. To her, it meant he would understand. It meant he accepted her for how she was. To hear him tell her ‘no’ about looking out for him – as real friends would do – had immediately shed light on the fact that he didn’t see her for how she truly was. Kit James was seeing her just like everyone else did, as a helpless girl dressed in boy’s clothes.

Josie had spent the night fuming. Her mother, as she always did, had told her to wash up for supper upon Josie’s furious arrival home. Josie, as she usually did during the last handful of years, ignored the woman that stood over the cast iron stove and stormed to the small room she now called her own. The girl had slammed the door behind her knowing her mother wouldn’t notice. Her mother never left the immediate area of the stove. It had been the place where her heart had suddenly seized up and stopped beating and she had never known what happened. It had never occurred to her mother that she heard her dead daughter’s voice or that none of her sons were ever present in the room anymore. She never seemed to think of anything aside from making supper. Her mother never noticed the changes in Josie’s moods or actions. Nothing ever changed despite the occasional interaction the two might have when Josie would tell her about her day. Though her mother’s spirit provided company in the otherwise empty cabin, Josie couldn’t help but to feel alone in this existence. Kit James’ presence was the only thing that kept her from losing her mind with the monotony.

When her fury could no longer be contained, Josie stormed from her room and left the cabin she had been raised in. From the corner of her eye, as she passed through the main room, she could see her mother standing at the stove. Nothing was ever going to change around here. That knowledge added to the fire that propelled Josie Gail out the door and into the darkness of that time just before dawn’s first light.

Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough down the trail that led to town. The idea had come to her in the explosion of anger that had caused her to leave the cabin. She knew about the energy contained in Doc Harrison’s old place. She knew Lenny James had used the space as his office when he became a Reaper. She had been younger, then. She had been nothing more than a nosey little kid peering in the windows to see what the James boys were doing. They were like her, able to think new thoughts and do something other than whatever it was they had been doing on the day they died. She had seen Lenny James disappear into the pantry on more than one occasion. She had heard him say the address more than once…

Josie didn’t know where 666 ½ Bleecker Street was in the world, but at the moment, she didn’t care. All she knew was that it was not in Alpina. That was all that mattered. She’d figure the rest out when she arrived to the other side.

Doc Harrison’s place was dark when Josie entered. She needed no light, however, to see in the only room of the cabin. The fireplace was to her left, Doc Harrison’s long work table was in the middle and the pantry was to her right. Her hand found the door’s knob through the darkness. Gripping it firmly, Josie gave it a turn and pulled the door open. The light that greeted her from the other side caused her to shriek with the sudden assault to her eyes. Her heart raced as she raised a hand to shield her vision. Where did this light come from?

Cautiously, Josie stepped closer and extended her left hand until it touched the light. She was relieved when her skin did not burn away. She was surprised to find it more of a cool feeling, like the waters of a mountain lake on a hot summer’s day.

Determination set in as Josie remembered why she had come to this place. Tilting her hat forward so the brim covered her eyes, Josie Gail took a deep breath and stepped closer to the light within the pantry. As she had heard Lenny James do on many occasions, Josie firmly uttered the same address he had spoken and stepped into the light…

Belinda looked up from the ledger she was writing in and turned toward the door of her office. She had heard the main door open and close softly. As was customary for her, she paused in her writing and turned to see who had come in. Usually, the Reaper entering would immediately walk into her office to deliver the assignment portfolio’s that had been completed during their field work. There were so many new Reapers on staff lately, though, that Belinda found herself constantly being interrupted.

She watched the door. Whoever had come into the Reapers, Incorporated office had yet to appear in her doorway. Concerned, Belinda pushed back from her small writing desk and went to the hall. The sight that met her eyes made her heart jump into her throat. Despite the increase of faces to the staff, the face that stared at her was definitely one she did not know.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m looking for someone,” the kid replied as its eyes roamed the high ceiling, taking in the snarling gargoyles that hang from above.

“Oh yeah? Who?” Belinda asked, perturbed that the kid wouldn’t look at her.

“Brigit Malone.”

Belinda examined the kid. She couldn’t tell its gender by first glance. The clothes it wore were masculine from the hat down to the scuffed toes of the leather boots on its feet; but the voice, the voice held a note of femininity that Belinda couldn’t ignore. It made her all the more curious that the kid was looking for Brigit, who had returned to the office to do some work only an hour before.

“What do you want with Brigit?”

Belinda moved directly in front of the kid as its eyes settled on the opened door at the opposite end of the hall. The Goth girl’s movement hid the fact that Brigit was indeed in the office and forced the kid to finally look her in the eye. Those eyes widened in surprise as the kid realized that Belinda was different than what it had been expecting. The jet black hair covered with a black scarf over serious bright blue eyes set in the whitest face it could ever remember seeing held the kid’s attention.

“It’s none of your business,” the kid finally stated firmly after it had looked Belinda Yaris up and down. “Is she here or not?”

The question was more demanding than Belinda liked. She put her hands on her hips and stepped closer to the kid.

“It’s my business if you want to see her,” Belinda growled. “No one gets past me in this office – especially rude-assed, snot-nosed brats. Now,” she inched closer to the kid, “are you going to mind your manners? Or will I need to drag you out to the street and kick your ass? It’s your choice, kid. The correct decision will hurt a lot less than the wrong one,” Belinda warned.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Josie started, shocked that a girl would use words like that. Girls didn’t talk that way back in Alpina, not unless they were dirty to begin with. Josie had always kept a fair distance from the girls she knew worked in the upper rooms of The Drink House. Those girls were dirty…

“Try me,” Belinda dared.

The kid locked eyes with her. Belinda could see the thoughts passing through its mind as it stared defiantly at her. The kid wanted to fight back, but didn’t know how. Belinda felt a knowing smile creeping to her face as she continued to read the thoughts.

“Belinda? What’s going on?”

Belinda glanced over her shoulder to find Brigit standing directly behind her.

“There’s a kid here demanding to see you,” Belinda answered as she stepped aside to reveal the visitor. “Rather rudely, too, I might add.”

Brigit watched the kid cast a hateful look at Belinda and raised an eyebrow. She had heard Belinda daring someone to ‘try’ her, but she had missed the beginning to the conversation. Now she wondered what exactly had been said. The tension between the two told her she had interrupted the onset of a fight the kid would surely lose. Belinda fought dirty. The kid wouldn’t stand a chance…

“Kid, what are you doing here? And how did you get here?” Brigit asked once her sight settled on the face beneath the wide brim of the brown hat she recognized.

“Does she have to listen? I came to talk to you,” the kid stated firmly. Brigit folded her arms across her chest in the effort to keep from snatching the kid by the arm and shaking some respect into it. She was beginning to deduce what had elicited Belinda’s dare.

“Miss Yaris is our records keeper. There is nothing she doesn’t hear about,” Brigit explained. “Now, I suggest that you change your tone and your attitude if you want to continue this conversation. Am I understood?”

Brigit heard the hard edge of her voice as it spoke the words she had once heard when she was a child. Though it came from her mouth, the voice she heard was suddenly her own mother’s. The amusement of that thought had to go ignored for the moment, though. She was watching the kid, waiting for the answer she knew those words would bring. She also knew she needed to ignore the smug look on Belinda’s face that was a result of the tone she had used. Apparently, Belinda’s had heard her mother’s voice as well.

Finally, the kid nodded to indicate agreement.

“Thank you, Miss Yaris,” Brigit smiled. “I can take it from here.”

“Sure thing, Brigit. You know where to find me if you need it removed from the premises,” Belinda offered.

“You lay a hand-“ the kid started. The threat was interrupted by Brigit snatching the kid by the arm. Belinda watched as the Assistant Grim Reaper briskly walked the length of the hall with the kid struggling to keep up.

Josie grunted when Brigit whirled her into the chair before the big desk. Quickly, she pushed herself to sit up straight as Brigit walked to the other side of the desk and sat in the big leather chair behind it. The dark woman was serious as she leveled her gaze on Josie. The look in her black eyes made the girl swallow nervously. Until this moment, Josie had never imagined Brigit Malone to be a dangerous woman. Now, she realized how naïve she had been.

“How did you get here?”

“I used the pantry at Doc Harrison’s place. I’d seen Lenny do it. I knew it took him somewhere.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you offered Kit James a job. I want to see if I can do it instead.”

“Do you even know what that job is? How old are you?”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t care what the job is. I want to do it,” Josie stated firmly.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“I done told you that.”

“I mean your real name,” Brigit responded, fighting to control her temper. “What did your mother name you?” She watched the kid’s jaw begin to clench and unclench in the attempt to exaggerate the discomfort of the truth she was being asked to tell.

“Josephine Gail,” the kid finally mumbled, “but everyone calls me ‘Josie’. Now, can I have the job? Please?”

Brigit leaned back in the chair and studied her visitor. She could see now that the face before her was indeed the face of a girl. Despite the lean features hidden in the shadow of the hat’s wide brim, Brigit could see the feminine lines that would have eventually formed a beautiful woman’s face. She wondered briefly how Josie Gail had met her demise at the time of life that held one so firmly at that age between being a child and becoming an adult.

“Why do you want to be a Reaper, Josie? Do you know what we do?” Brigit’s tone softened. She was losing her annoyance over the girl’s earlier antics.

“Everybody thinks I’m just a helpless little girl. I’m not! I can do work just as good as anybody. I’m not a good-for-nothin’ girl.”

Brigit could hear the anger in Josie Gail’s voice. It was apparent the girl had been subjected to the belief that the female race was inferior to the males. Brigit wondered if it would ease the girl’s mind to know things had vastly changed for women. Granted, the world was not as equal as it should have been in Brigit’s opinion, but it was still a vastly different scene than Josie had been brought up in. But this was not the time to discuss societal views. The girl had found her way to the main office and was asking for a job. She had something to prove and Josie Gail seemed desperate to do so.

“Can you read?” Brigit asked, hoping to appear un-fazed by the energy behind Josie’s last statement.

“Yes.”

Brigit opened the top right drawer of the desk and withdrew the slim, perfectly square book. She knew John would take issue with the thought passing through her mind. She remembered his stern attitude when a child had been present in the office years ago. Josie Gail was at that age when she would have been leaving her childhood and embarking on the journey that would make her an adult. She already exhibited some signs of intelligence. Brigit wondered if they could guide her successfully to that point where Josie would no longer behave as a child.

“Read this,” Brigit instructed as she passed The Reaper’s Field Guide across the top of the large mahogany desk between them. “I want you to understand every single word before we can continue a discussion about working for Reapers, Incorporated.”

“Do I have a job?” Josie asked anxiously as she picked up the book Brigit had given her. The girl’s eyes were wide with hope.

“The job you’re asking for is intended for Mr. James. He is responsible for the disappearance of the Reaper that was doing that job. As a result, it is Mr. James’ option to replace that Reaper,” Brigit explained firmly. “The job he will be doing, if he chooses to, is extremely dangerous. I do not feel you would be right for that position.”

“What are you goin’ to do if Kit says ‘no’? Huh? What then?”

“That is not your concern, Josie Gail.” Brigit’s reply was stern. Even she wanted to flinch against the severity of it. “Read the book. When I return, you will explain it to me.”

Josie watched as Brigit Malone stood and made for the door. When the dark woman was gone from the room, Josie looked at the slim book in her hands. Brigit Malone hadn’t said ‘yes’, but then, she hadn’t said ‘no’ either. All she wanted Josie to do was read.

“I can do this,” Josie mumbled as she clenched the book between her hands. “Please, Lord, let me understand,” she prayed out loud before opening the black leather cover and setting her eyes to the first word.

31: Training Monkeys

“You monkeys are standing on my last good nerve! Goddammit! How many times do I have to explain this? You cannot bring a door into sight unless you have their file in your hand. If you do not have the file in your hand, the door ain’t goin’ to show! Goddammit again! This ain’t rocket science, people!”

Shelly paused to catch her breath. The recruits were staring at her in wide-eyed shock. They had been practicing their skills, attempting to perform each step exactly as Shelly Longmont had instructed. This was their first real exercise. So far, they were failing and their miserable attempts had led them to this point.

The souls they were to cross had huddled together in the corner of the hotel’s stately banquet room, pressed so tightly together it was almost impossible to tell where one’s body began and another’s ended. The Reapers-in-training had approached them peacefully, each Reaper calling its assigned soul’s name in the invitation to finally be free from the banquet room where they had met their mortal destinies. Shelly Longmont watched their fruitless efforts for a solid five minutes, her irritation growing from the moment she realized what her trainees were doing – or weren’t doing, as it turned out. Shelly had been holding out in saying anything with the hope that one of them – and it didn’t matter which one – would step up with the key ingredient to make the event happen. Finally, when she saw the recruits turn and silently begin to question the thought of what must be done next, Shelly had lost her composure. Losing her temper was more acceptable than allowing the recruits to go on with an attempt to start crossing the assigned souls to Limbo. That would be a chaos Shelly would never be able to coherently explain…

“Hansel,” she snapped at the young man standing in her line of vision as she stormed across the room. “Give me the files in your pocket. The rest of you, take the files out of your pockets!”

Hansel, a polite young man with Victorian sensibilities, hastily withdrew the files Shelly Longmont had assigned to him and held them out as the instructor stormed past him. She snatched the offered portfolios from his fingers in a flash of movement. He swallowed hard as Shelly stepped between the group of recruits and the huddled mass of souls in the corner. He watched as the woman eyed each of her recruits sternly before looking down at the top file in her hand.

“Watch me,” she commanded before turning to survey the souls pressed together in fear. “Lisa Banks,” she called out, the tone of her voice immediately softening.

“Here,” came a shaky reply from somewhere in the middle of the mass.

“This is not a roll call, Miss Banks,” Shelly quipped, her irritation fighting the lid she was trying to cover it with. “Please step forward, hon,” Shelly instructed.

“I can’t. The others are too tight around me,” Lisa Banks explained.

Shelly stopped trying to cover her irritation as she heard Lisa Banks’ reply. Annoyed, the instructing Reaper set her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes.

“Y’all get off her! Jesus Christ, you’re like a bunch sheep about to get shorn! We ain’t here to hurt you. Now, let her through,” Shelly commanded.

“Better do what she says, guys. I don’t think she’s playin’,” someone from the back of the huddle suggested.

“How would you know, Lutz?” Shelly heard another voice asked from the back.

“Because she sounds like my momma,” Lutz responded with a drawl Shelly recognized immediately. “Where I come from, when a woman sounds like your momma, it’s best to do what she says if you don’t want trouble. Besides, I can’t freakin’ breathe with everybody pressing me against the wall like this. Y’all move, let Lisa through,” Lutz said firmly. Shelly listened to the unseen young man, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. A fellow Texan in the crowd was always good support…

Slowly, cautiously, the souls huddle together began to shuffle apart until Lisa Banks stood alone in the space they had created. She was a pretty young thing, Shelly thought.

“Lisa, come on out, honey,” Shelly invited. The girl met Shelly’s eye and stepped forward. “Do you know why we are here?”

“I’m hoping you’re here to get me out of this place,” Lisa answered.

“You are correct. What a smart girl you are,” Shelly praised. “If only I met more like you.”

The barb in the statement was not missed by the recruits standing behind her. “Do you know why you’ve been stuck in this room?”

“Yes,” Lisa nodded. “There was an explosion during our awards dinner. We were sitting through Mark Lerner’s speech when it happened. All I could think when I woke up was that I was glad Mark wasn’t talking anymore,” she smiled.

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad,” a tall man contradicted. Lisa Banks spun on her heel and pointed a neatly manicured finger at the man that had spoken.

“You shut it, Mark! I am sick to death with the thought that your monotonous drone of how awesome you are was the last thing I heard before dying. Maybe in your next life you can practice a little bit of humility,” Lisa Banks suggested heatedly.

Shelly Longmont bit her lip to stifle the laugh that threatened to erupt. Her eyes wandered to the face of the man Lisa Banks had addressed. The look of shock on his face said it all. He was not used to people not adoring him. Shelly did not feel sorry for him. Self-important people had always annoyed her to no end as well.

“Are you ready to go, Miss Banks?” Shelly asked. The petite woman standing before too a deep breath and nodded. Shelly turned and fixed her gaze on Hansel. “Hansel, you heard the lady,” Shelly snapped as she extended Lisa Banks’ file toward the nervous young man.

Hansel, though he was certain he had not really heard the soul of subject actually say anything, simply nodded in agreement and stepped up. He took the file and set his gaze on Lisa Banks. She was a pretty girl, but Hansel found the look in her eyes unsettling. She was watching him more intently than any woman ever had. He stepped within arm’s reach of Lisa Banks, her portfolio clutched firmly in his hand. Immediately, the door to her eternal fate appeared to his left. Together, Hansel and Lisa took a step away from the door.

“What the hell is that?” Lisa asked.

“That, Miss Banks, is the door to your fate. Are you ready?” Hansel asked politely. This time Lisa did not answer. Hansel reached out and gently turned the knob. The door opened before them of its own volition. He looked down at the petite woman as she stared hard at the vision on the other side. The ecstasy he saw on her face caused him to turn and look through the door as well. Confusion washed over him when all he could see was a grey mist floating on the other side.

“It’s beautiful,” Lisa Banks whispered. Hansel offered the awed woman a slender hand. He was surprised when she took it. As a proper gentleman would, he walked her to the door.

“The words, Hansel,” Shelly reminded from her place behind him. “They’re very important.” Hansel nodded in acknowledgment of the reminder.

“Lisa Banks,” he said gently, bowing slightly at the waist. “May you find eternal peace.”

“This is it? I’m done?” Lisa suddenly asked.

“You are,” Hansel confirmed.

“I need to do something first,” she announced.

Hansel quickly looked to Shelly Longmont. Shelly shrugged as Lisa stepped around Hansel and faced the group of men surrounding Mark Lerner. She had dubbed them “The Frats” from the first day of the convention. Lisa had purposely avoided them once the seminars were over. Their behavior during the last few days of her life had nauseated her. It was made worse by carrying over with them into their deaths. Lisa fixed her eyes on the clique, a triumphant smile on her face.

“Hey guys,” she called. The group perked up, wondering if she would have some final wish for them. Their hopeful expressions fell, however, as Lisa raised both hands and extended the middle fingers in salute.

“Okay, Miss Banks,” Shelly sighed as she shook her head to keep from laughing. “Let’s go now.”

Lisa promptly turned and held her head high as she walked happily across the threshold to her eternal reward. Shelly sighed again and waved her hand at the door.

“Close it, Hansel. That’s the final important step to this procedure. Number one: have the file in your hand. Number two: wish them peace, and, Number three: close the door. Now, who’s next?”

Shelly fought the urge to roll her eyes when seven hands shot into the air in reply. Instead, she shook her head once more before instructing the recruits to form a line and get on with it.

32. The Request

“Belinda, may I speak with you?”

Belinda looked up from the ledger to see Brigit standing inside the door of her small office. The serious expression on her mentor’s face caused Belinda’s heart to race with the worry of something wrong.

“Sure,” Belinda answered as she lay down her pen and turned to fully face the other woman. “What’s up?”

“I know that you know everything that happens in this office,” Brigit stated as she fully entered the room and pulled a chair to sit beside the young woman.

“I hear things,” Belinda confirmed. “Whether I mean to or not, sometimes.”

“Then you know the assistant’s chair is still open for temporary filling.”

“Yes.”

“Would you be interested in filling it?”

Belinda stared long and hard at Brigit. She wondered why Brigit would come to her, why the soon-to-be-promoted Reaper would have the belief she could do the job. Belinda, though she had occasionally filled in on the duties Brigit oversaw, had never thought to aspire to the position. Now it was being offered to her and she didn’t know why.

“What about my records?” She hated to think the department she had basically created and kept in such neat order would fall behind.

“We can pull an assistant records keeper over to sit your chair. I know for a fact Pierce Nelson has three assistants in his office in St. Petersburg. I’m confident he would loan us one while John is gone,” Brigit offered.

“You sound like you already have a strategy,” Belinda pointed out. “Am I last on the list?”

It was Brigit’s turn to stare long and hard. While their friendship had taken its time in healing since her role in expediting the final demise of Seamus Flannery, Brigit could still see the scars of Belinda’s heartbreak over the memories. Belinda had hoped for a love that was not meant to be with the maniacal Reaper and Brigit’s part in ending his existence had provided the young woman a scapegoat to direct her hurt towards. Over time, especially after Belinda had accepted the bad in Seamus and released any fantasy she might have had, the friendship between the two women had settled into a comfortable place. They both knew there was a bond between them. They had not made it a point to define it in its entirety. It was there. It had been enough for the both of them. The question that came from Belinda now, though, caused Brigit to wonder if she had not done enough to show the full faith she had in her friend’s abilities.

“You are second,” Brigit finally replied.

“What took you so long to ask?”

“I’ve been busy,” Brigit smiled. “This whole thing with Katuri-Buttercup and Kit James has had me distracted. Now, will you take the chair or do I need to keep looking?”

“When do you need an answer?”

“How long do you need to think about it?”

“Get my replacement and I’ll do it,” Belinda smiled. Brigit nodded in agreement to the condition. The Goth girl could see the weight leave her friend’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Brigit sighed. “That’s one item off my list. I’ll start turning things over to you in two days.”

“Why the wait?”

“Because I have two more things to see to before I can focus on the transition,” Brigit explained.

“Is it anything I can help you with now?”

“I wish you could, but no, Kit James is to give me his answer tomorrow and I have a meeting with Maggie tomorrow night. Unfortunately, these are things I must see to myself.”

“Oh,” Belinda said, her head nodded in understanding. “What are you going to do with the kid?”

“She’s reading the Field Guide at the moment. She wants to be a Reaper but we need to make sure she’s mature enough, or will eventually be mature enough, to grasp the full concept of what we do. She’s trying to prove something but to whom, I don’t know.”

“So it is a girl. I thought it might be. What’s her name?”

“Josie,” Brigit answered. “I’ll deal with her later when I’ve figured out what I can do with her.” The Assistant Reaper stood and returned the chair she had commandeered to its place in the corner.

“Where are you going now?” Belinda asked.

“To find John. I need to let him know where we are. Will you look in on Josie in a little while? I don’t believe she’ll be a nuisance, but at the same time – “

“Say no more. I’ll take care of things,” Belinda assured her.

Brigit nodded gratefully and started for the door. Belinda turned to resume her work but paused when Brigit addressed her once more. She looked up, wondering what else could be on the dark woman’s mind.

“Thank you. I really do appreciate this,” Brigit offered. Belinda smiled and watched as the other woman finally left the room.

32: The Answer

Kit alit from Daisy’s back and sighed heavily. The worry that had propelled him through the night had finally metamorphosed into a dismal despair and brought him home. He had gone to apologize to the girl, but Josie was gone. He could only hope the girl would eventually turn up on her own. The sadness that kicked him the hardest was the knowing that he had not been able to explain himself. It worried him to think his only friend had run away from him over a misunderstanding.

As he walked Daisy to the stable, his mind tried to assure him that Josie was fine, that she was merely avoiding him until she cooled down. His heart, though, was sure his mind was lying. He had felt it seize with fear each time he had gone to a place he had ever known Josie to be only to discover that it was empty of her spirit. He had hunted for her all afternoon and night to no avail. The kid had vanished. It was all Kit James could do to pray that she was not gone forever.

The sun had started to rise again when he finally turned Daisy toward home. Today was the deadline. He needed to be home when Brigit Malone returned. He had made his decision. He would give her his answer.

After seeing to Daisy, Kit walked slowly back to his cabin. His mind was still talking to him about Josie, distracting his focus. It took him a few seconds upon entering his space to realize someone was sitting at the small table. The surprise pushed him back toward the door as he took another second to recognize the face. Brigit Malone was waiting for him.

“Good morning, Mr. James,” she greeted calmly.

“How long have you been waiting?” Kit asked as he rested his rifle against the wall and hang his hat on a nail protruding from the wall beside the opened door.

“Since dawn,” Brigit replied. “I was surprised to see you were out.”

“I’ve been looking for the kid. She went missing yesterday.”

“Do you mean Josie Gail?” Kit nodded. “Josie has been with me since yesterday morning.”

“She WHAT?” Kit bellowed angrily.

“Yes,” Brigit was unfazed by his outburst. “Josie came to my office yesterday wanting a job with the firm. She seemed pretty determined. Is this something you were aware of, Mr. James?”

“Did you take her on?” Kit asked, ignoring Brigit’s question.

“I haven’t made that decision yet,” Brigit answered. “She’s intelligent enough to do a job. I just haven’t decided what job she’d be able to do and I’m still unsure about her maturity. Why did she come to me?”

“Because I told her ‘no’,” Kit admitted with a sigh. The dark woman sitting at the table arched a questioning eyebrow at him. “She wanted me to get you to take us on as a team, said she wanted to look out for me like I used to look out for Lenny. I told her ‘no’.”

“Why? Because she’s a girl?”

Kit’s eyes met Brigit’s gaze, a small flame of anger dancing through him at the insinuation she had launched.

“I don’t care that she’s a girl,” he said slowly. “I wouldn’t care if she was black, yella or red-skinned, or if she was a Baptist, Catholic or Jew. I told her ‘no’ because I don’t want any harm to come her way. Josie Gail is my friend and the only one I have these days. I’d like to keep her safe and that’s the only way I know how.”

“I see,” Brigit said calmly. “Well, that decision has been left to me now. You can relax with the knowing that Josie is perfectly safe at the moment. Now, as to the business between us,” Brigit smiled faintly. “What is your decision?”

“I’m agreeable to your proposition with a condition,” Kit replied, trying his hardest to sound businesslike. “If you’re inclined to negotiate, that is.”

“I’m listening,” Brigit invited as she leaned back in the chair where she sat.

“I’ll become your hunter on the condition that I get to take care of Ned Cadoc.”

Brigit watched the man still standing across the small room. She had expected a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. Negotiating the terms of his employment should have crossed her mind, but hadn’t. What harm could come from his request? He had told her himself that as soon as he had the chance, no matter what, he was dead set on killing Ned Cadoc. Being a Reaper would provide Kit James with some means to fulfill his quest.

“I’m agreeable to that condition,” Brigit nodded, “but I have a couple of conditions of my own.”

“I’m listening,” Kit replied.

“First, you will enter the training all Reapers are required to undertake so that you can learn the correct procedures to our business.”

“Okay. What else?” Kit urged.

“Ned Cadoc will be your first official assignment. There will be no games of hide and seek, cat and mouse. I will expect you to take care of the matter once and for all and be done with it as soon as possible after your training. The position you are agreeing to take, Mr. James, is a position that has absolutely no room for distraction. A personal agenda can get you killed and I would be very upset to lose another Reaper due to a distraction. Am I understood?” Brigit was firm in her delivery.

“Deal,” Kit agreed. “When do we start?”

“Right now. Gather your things, including the file for Ned Cadoc and The Reaper’s Field Guide you took from Miss Buttercup. You will need them.”

Kit appeared slightly surprised that Brigit Malone would know he was in possession of the file and book the Asian girl had dropped. Finally, he just shook his head.

“Where are we going?” Kit asked as he walked to the small cot where he had pondered so many things for so many years and lifted the thin mattress. He pulled the portfolio and Field Guide out and tucked them into his shirt pocket.

“Back to my office. Your training will begin there,” Brigit explained as she watched him approach the box she had confiscated days ago.

She said nothing more as she watched him bring it to the table and lift the lid. Kit was quick in removing the contents, laying them gently on the table’s surface. The silver locket was slipped into the front pocket of his trousers and the pocket watch quickly found its place in a shallow pocket of his vest. Next was the small box Brigit had opened to reveal the pearl gripped pistols. Kit took a gun in each hand, cocked the hammer and peered down the barrel of each before uncocking it and shoving them into that space between his belt and the waist of his trousers.

He was wasting no time in preparation. It had been a huge relief to him to know that Josie was somewhere safe. It was an even bigger relief to know that Brigit was amicable to his request, even if she was set on his being done with it as soon as possible. The web was being destroyed. Kit would have to face Ned Cadoc without the element of a surprise attack as he had with the others…

Without a word, the hunter crossed the small room, jammed his hat onto his head and picked up the rifle resting against the wall. Upon noticing the lack of movement from his visitor, Kit turned and looked at her expectantly.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked impatiently. Brigit smiled and arose from the chair.

“Follow me, please,” she instructed as she exited the room. Kit nodded and fell in line, closing the door behind him.

34: The First Transition

Mama Dee set the file she had been copying dates from to the side and reached for a new one. The information was so simple: Name, location, date of birth, date of death, and date of crossing. It had taken Belinda only a few minutes to explain the procedure and only a few more seconds for Mama Dee to understand. When the little old woman picked up the pen and set to work on the stack that had accumulated throughout the morning, Belinda immediately stopped her.

“Wait,” the Goth girl said nervously. Mama Dee jumped at the panic she heard in the girl’s voice. “Don’t you have questions?”

“No.”

“Not even one?” Belinda pressed.

In the years since she had started the records department and subsequently trained other records keepers for the offices John Blackwick continued to open, Belinda had compiled every question that had ever been asked about the process and scripted an answer to it. Suggestions for more elaboration of a soul’s history were squashed with the point of having only so much storage space. Suggestions for using different inks to indicate which door a soul had been sent through (if they actually made it through a door) were silenced by the reminder that it was not a Reaper’s business to judge a soul but merely to cross them to their eternal fates. In the brief history that the firm did keep, it did not matter whether a soul went to Heaven or Hell. All that mattered was that the assignment was complete. The suggestions and questions went on and on in Belinda’s mind. She was prepared to answer or annihilate anything that was tossed her way. The idea that Mama Dee had no questions made Belinda nervous.

“Belinda,” Mama Dee’s tone was bordering on annoyance. “Are you going to be okay? You said all I have to do is record their names, locations and the three dates. If that’s what has been done since the beginning, I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. Who am I to try to re-invent the wheel?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you understood,” Belinda dropped the rest of the thought under the glare she received from Mama Dee.

“Oh, I understand, child,” Mama Dee said pointedly. Belinda swallowed hard and nodded.

“Okay, well, I will let you work then,” she offered. “If you have any questions,”

“Which I won’t,” Mama Dee interrupted.

“But just in case,”

“Belinda!”

“Okay, I’ll be in Brigit’s office,” Belinda said quickly. She turned to go but stopped and turned around again. “I’m really glad it’s you, Mama,” she admitted. Mama Dee raised a questioning eyebrow. “I don’t think I could have handled one of the Russians in here. They don’t get my sense of humor sometimes,” Belinda sighed. “Which is sad because I think I’m funny.”

“Belinda,” Mama Dee sighed. The raven haired girl looked at the small woman now occupying her seat.

“Yes?”

“Go away and let me work. If I have any questions, I will find you, but don’t hold your breath,” Mama Dee warned.

“Oh, okay. Well, uh, good luck then.”

Mama Dee shook her head as the young woman finally turned and left the small office. Belinda walked down the hall to Brigit’s space with the thought that Mama Dee was the perfect replacement. With her no-nonsense attitude, Mama Dee would allow little to distract her from the work. Belinda had no doubt the records department would stay on track while duties were being shifted around for a while.

35: The Second Transition

“Wait.”

Kit’s voice was low in his direction to Brigit as she reached to open the door to the small cabin she had once again arrived to Alpina in. She immediately stopped, recognizing the tone of unseen danger in the hunter’s voice.

“What is it?” she asked without turning around.

“We’re being watched,” Kit answered calmly. “Go on inside. I’ll be in as soon as I figure this out,” he instructed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” Kit replied as he set to scanning the surrounding area slowly. “This won’t take long.”

Without further comment, Brigit proceeded into the small cabin alone. She left the door open behind her, just in case Kit James needed her help after all. She stood beside the small window just to the side of the opened door. Her dark eyes scanned the area as well before falling on Kit’s profile. His face was expressionless as he stood on the porch. After a few minutes, Kit nodded to himself and stepped into the cabin. He closed the door softly and stepped to the window on the other side.

“Do you know who it is?” Brigit asked.

“I have a good idea,” the man replied as his eyes scanned the scenery once more for good measure. Brigit waited, wondering if he would elaborate, but the hunter kept his silence.

“Well, I think we’re safe,” she finally said. “By the way, I appreciate the chivalrous act of telling me to go inside, but it was unnecessary. I can hold my own.”

Kit James looked at the dark woman for a few seconds before nodding to acknowledge the statement. Very few women had been bold during his time. They were brave enough to follow their men and endure the hardships forced on them by the lives they would carve out of nothing. Rarely, though, did they willingly confront a dangerous situation with ease. Brigit Malone was definitely not one of the members of that stock of woman. Kit could see that she was one of the rare ones, one of those that would meet trouble at its own front door.

“What are we doing here?” Kit asked.

“We’re leaving Alpina,” Brigit replied. The man snorted in disbelief. “What’s so funny?”

“I haven’t been able to leave Alpina since I died. I’m stuck here,” he explained. Though he was smiling faintly, Brigit could hear the quiet note of sadness laced through his words.

“Do you believe circumstances can change, Mr. James?” She smiled.

“Change is inevitable until you’re dead,” Kit replied. “After that, things get a bit limited. I’ve been roaming this area for a hundred years. If I could have changed that, believe me, I would have.”

“Well, I hate to be the one to upset the apple cart,” Brigit said as she stepped to the pantry door. She motioned for him to join her. “Brace yourself, Mr. James. Things for you are about to change. Take my arm please and don’t let go. Oh, and you might want to pull your hat down. The light can burn the first time you look at it…”

Shelly sighed heavily as Giuseppe placed the empty glass on the counter before and uncorked the bottle he held in his large hands. Normally, Shelly requested a tall glass of sweetened ice tea, as a lady should when they were casually visiting with friends in a setting such as a café. At the moment, though, Shelly was alone – her friends busy with their various tasks somewhere else in the spirit world. The irritation toward the recruits still rode on her back in a most un-ladylike manner.

“Fill ‘er up, Joe,” Shelly instructed. Giuseppe smiled as he tilted the whiskey bottle over the glass he had set before the blonde lady. “I can’t believe the monkeys have finally driven me to drink. Thank goodness they all graduate tomorrow. Of course, I do pity the Reapers that mentor them from here on out. I think I’ll have a little talk with John about his criteria in finding new recruits for the next round of hiring. I swear, this had to be the daftest bunch I’ve ever trained,” she explained as she picked up the glass of amber liquid and downed it in one swallow. When she looked up at the big Italian standing behind the counter, he was still smiling at her.

Shelly wondered what was passing through his mind. He never spoke to her even though he seemed quite chatty with Brigit, John and a handful of the other Reapers. She wasn’t sure, though, if she wanted one more voice to hear. Sometimes it was nice to be the one to do all the talking. Giuseppe Cincotta was too much of a gentleman to simply walk away from her when she was rambling on about her annoyances with the recruits. Always, he simply stood on the other side of the counter, smiling and listening.

“You’re a good man, Giuseppe,” Shelly praised as she watched him refill the whiskey glass.

When he suddenly set the bottle on the counter before reaching the satisfactory amount, Shelly looked up. His dark eyes were trained on the door to the café. She could see his face morphing into a mask of seriousness as he watched the space behind her. Slowly, Shelly turned on her stool to see what held Giuseppe’s attention so firmly.

Walking across the room was Brigit Malone. She did not appear perplexed by outward appearances. Shelly met the dark woman’s eye and smiled despite the concern she felt radiating from the big man standing behind her. It was only when Brigit stepped off the course she was walking that Shelly could see what had caught Giuseppe’s attention. Brigit had not come to the café alone. The sight of Kit James armed with a rifle in his hand and two pistols sticking out of his belt had been what set Giuseppe on high alert. It didn’t help that Kit James wore the expression of a man on the hunt. The seriousness in his eye would have made any soul cautious of his presence.

“Hello, Shelly,” Brigit greeted. Her eyes glanced to the whiskey bottle and the half-filled glass on the counter before returning to Shelly’s face. “Rough morning?”

“The monkeys,” Shelly drawled, “were a little taxing on my patience; but the good news is that they finally got it and I’m done with them.”

“Ah, so this is a celebratory drink?”

“You could say that,” Shelly looked past Brigit’s shoulder at the hunter standing a few feet away. His eyes were settled on the big man standing behind the counter. It appeared they were having a silent discussion. “I take it your friend has agreed to the terms of your proposal?”

“He has. I’d like for his training to begin as soon as possible.”

“Then what’s he doing here?” Shelly asked as she turned to pick up the glass that was still unsatisfactory in its amount. She took a dainty sip and looked up to meet Brigit’s smiling face.

“I want you to train him,” the dark woman said evenly.

“Have you lost your cotton-pickin’ mind?” Shelly asked.

“You like him,” Brigit pointed out.

“Like him? I’d like to shoot him! Brigit, I can’t train him. He’s, he’s…”Shelly searched for the correct adjective to describe the silent man standing a few feet away. He seemed to be ignoring the conversation passing between the two women even though it was a little louder than was polite.

“He’s what? Dangerous?” Brigit asked. She appeared to be unaffected by Shelly’s rant. “I hope so. It’s part of the requirement for the position he’s filling. Katuri-Buttercup was dangerous, but not menacingly so. How many of us looked at her and felt a sense of dis-ease in her presence?”

“Not one of us. She was our friend. Buttercup was a sweet girl,” Shelly answered defensively. “She didn’t deserve to die again.”

The last statement was said loud enough to penetrate the wall of privacy Kit James had placed between himself and the women. He glanced momentarily at Shelly before dropping his eyes to the intricate mosaic design set in the tile of the floor beneath his feet.

“Shelly,” Brigit sighed. “I’d like you to train Mr. James on the proper procedures of reaping. It will be a one-on-one training. It shouldn’t take more than a few days. I’m not making a request.”

Shelly glared at Brigit. Despite the smile still present on the Assistant Reaper’s face, Shelly could see the irritation beginning to enter Brigit’s dark eyes. Finally, she sighed and nodded in acceptance of her new assignment.

“Thank you,” Brigit breathed with relief. “I will leave Mr. James with you. I have a few things to take care of so that I can get John started on his vacation. Mr. James,” Brigit turned and faced the man that had accompanied her into the café. “Miss Longmont will oversee your training for the next few days. When she’s finished, you will be assigned a mentor for a short time after that. I think for all intents and purposes, that mentor should be me. So, come and find me when you’re done with him, Shelly?” Brigit turned to see Shelly nod in agreement. “Do you have any questions before I leave you?” She asked of Kit.

“Nope,” he answered tersely.

“Very well,” she smiled pleasantly. “Call me if you need me,” she said with a final look at Shelly. “And try not to shoot one another over the next couple of days, will you?” It was request meant to be a joke. Neither of the souls it was addressed to laughed.

“I ain’t makin’ that promise,” Shelly drawled before downing the remaining contents of the whiskey glass again.

Brigit was the one to laugh before walking away, leaving a cold space between Shelly Longmont and her new trainee. Shelly eyed the silent man for a second before turning on her stool to face Giuseppe once more. She tapped the empty glass with her forefinger to indicate a request for more whiskey. Giuseppe filled the container generously this time.

“Have a seat, Mr. James. We’re going to be here a bit,” Shelly informed him. “Do you drink?”

“Nope,” Kit replied once he was settled onto the stool beside her.

“Do you answer every question with only one word?”

“Mostly.”

“Well, Mr. James, that should make for an interesting acquaintance and a quick training. Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” Shelly asked.

“I’m sure.”

“Oh-ho! Two words! Better leave the bottle, Giuseppe,” Shelly said as the café owner started to move away with the bottle in hand. “I do believe I intend to drink the whole thing.”

“Do you drink a lot, ma’am?” Kit asked. Shelly turned and looked at him in surprise. Had she detected the tiniest note of concern in his query?

“Not at all, Mr. James, but today, I intend to.”

“You can handle that much liquor?” he asked with a nod toward the bottle that – despite having filled her glass two and a half times – still appeared to be full. Shelly burst into laughter.

“Please, son,” she guffawed. “In my day, this would have been the start of the party! But never fear,” she reached over and patted his knee gently. “I was sober as a judge when I died. I can’t get drunk anymore, no matter how much I might wish I could.”

“Then why even drink?” Kit asked as he watched her raise the glass.

“Because it’s been a helluva a day and it never hurts to try,” Shelly replied before tipping the glass against her bottom lip and taking another long swallow.

36: Maggie

“Are you sure she will be here?”

Sola opened her eyes and looked to where Maggie was standing by the bay window. Maggie’s attention was on the street below as if she were waiting to see Brigit physically walking up the sidewalk toward the home they had shared as a loving couple. Maggie appeared anxious. The energy Sola could feel flowing off the other woman was nervous. She wondered if Maggie might be having second thoughts about what she had decided to do.

“She will,” Sola assured Maggie gently. “I received her message last night. It won’t be long, I’m sure. Brigit’s very busy a lot of the time these days.”

“How do you know?” Maggie asked, glancing over her shoulder at the woman sitting comfortably on the couch.

“I just know,” Sola shrugged.

She had been waiting years for Maggie to question her further about the existence Brigit had entered into after dying. Following the escapade of Maggie’s kidnapping, Sola had entertained only a few questions about Brigit’s new job. As the years passed by, Maggie appeared to have lost her curiosity. Instead, it was as if she shoved all the information she already held into a shoe box and kicked it under the bed to be forgotten. The only reason she brought that information out now was because she wanted to be free of it. Maggie Devon wanted to remember her lover as she had been during their life together. Brigit’s existence as a ghost had become a burden to her heart and she wanted relief from it.

Maggie was about to return her gaze to the street when she felt the energy of the room shift. She imagined she heard the front door open and close. Most likely, she told herself quickly, it was the sound of the neighbor’s door opening and closing. As the warmth of the room suddenly felt cooler, she looked to Sola for confirmation that she was indeed imagining things.

“Yes, Brigit’s here now,” Sola stated, misunderstanding the look in Maggie’s eyes.

“How are we going to do this, Sola?” Brigit asked gently. “How do I respond to her?”

“One of two ways,” Sola replied in Brigit’s mind. She knew talking to thin air would set Maggie further on edge and she knew Brigit was highly skilled in mental communication. It was just easier. “One: I can relay your replies,” Sola offered. “Or, two: you can possess me and reply directly to her. Option number one is more comfortable for me, just to let you know; but I am willing to endure the second option for you.” Brigit smiled gently.

“I appreciate that,” the Reaper replied, “but relay will be fine. Tell her to start talking.”

Sola nodded and turned her attention to Maggie. She was standing nervously behind the reading chair, her hands gripping the back of it anxiously.

“Go ahead, Maggie,” Sola invited calmly. Maggie nodded and swallowed hard in the effort to gather her thoughts.

“Brigit,” she started a little louder than any of the women would have liked.

“There’s no need to yell,” Brigit growled as she leveled her gaze on Maggie.

“She can hear you, Maggie. There’s not need to raise your voice. Talk to her like you would if she were actually standing in front of you,” Sola advised.

“I am standing in front of her,” Brigit pointed out.

Sola raised her hand to silence the ghost. Maggie saw the direction her friend’s hand moved in and nodded. Brigit really was close by.

“Brigit,” Maggie started again, “I know this is hard. I know you’ve been hanging around here, watching over me. I also know that,” her voice broke as she stumbled over the words that were spilling from her mind to her tongue. “That it can’t go on like this. I can’t go on like this. I’ve found someone that loves me as much as you did,”

“And still do,” Brigit grumbled. Sola did not repeat the statement.

“And I want to live a life with her,” Maggie continued. “Gina is a wonderful woman. She’s kind and funny and she loves me. In some ways, she reminds me of you.”

“Is that supposed to be a consolation?” Brigit asked. Again, Sola did not repeat what she heard.

“Bree,” Maggie sighed as she moved from behind the reading chair and came to sit on the edge of its cushion. She leaned her elbows against her knees and clasped her hands together to contain her nerves. “I need for you to let me go. I need to live my life while I have it to live. I need for you to move on. When the day comes that I can see you again, I will be so happy. Please believe that; but right now, I need to find whatever happiness I can without you. I need for you to stay away.”

Brigit stared hard at the image before her. Maggie was finding her words to be as hard to say as Brigit was finding them hard to hear. She had already made the decision to allow Maggie her living space. She had not considered how hard it would be to hear the request her true love was now making. Brigit squared her shoulders and took a deep breath to quell the anger she felt rising up from her gut. She could feel Sola’s eyes on her as she continued to watch Maggie, who had started to cry silently.

“I will go,” Brigit finally said quietly. Her anger began to wither as she pulled her voice into employment. “She is free.”

“And if she needs you again?” Sola asked gently.

Brigit finally looked at the woman who had unwittingly become their medium. Brigit knew what the Blue Witch was referring to. It wasn’t as if Maggie’s soul was any safer simply by Brigit’s agreement to step back. Luckily, though, Brigit had no enemies at present. The tale of Seamus Flannery’s demise had been told in every Reapers, Incorporated office as a warning tale against entertaining any idea of using Maggie Devon as a tool to get Brigit Malone’s attention. Brigit’s protection of Maggie had become legend.

“She has nothing to worry about,” Brigit answered.

“But in the off-chance,” Sola persisted.

“Then I will be available. All she has to do is call me,” the Reaper explained. “But otherwise, Maggie is free. I will be waiting for her when she dies.” Brigit turned and reached for the door.

“Do you still love her?” Sola asked, aware that Maggie had taken to staring at her in wait for Brigit’s reply. Brigit stopped in her movement, but did not look into Sola’s eyes. Her heart was breaking quickly and the question the woman asked did nothing to ease the pain she felt in her breast.

“I never stopped,” Brigit said in a voice just above a whisper. “I never will.”

With that, she hastened from the room. Once the door was closed behind her, she fell back against the wall and allowed the sob she had been fighting during Maggie’s plea to finally escape her throat. Through the barrier between them, she could hear Maggie doing the same thing as Sola DuLach relayed the message Brigit had provided. Knowing she could not bear to remain within hearing range of Maggie’s cries, Brigit pushed herself from the wall and made her way from the building she had called home in life and death. She was no longer welcome here. It was time to move on.

37: Comprehension Check

“Now the proper procedures to crossing a soul are very easy, Mr. James. I presume you have thoroughly read the Field Guide?” Shelly asked as she sorted through the portfolios that had been placed on her desk.

They had returned to the main office so that she could collect some files with which to instruct Kit James as to how they, the firm, wanted the business of reaping to be conducted. The man had been silent during their walk from the Bleecker Street Café to the main office, his gaze settled on the buildings and swarming of daily life around them. Though he walked a step behind her, Shelly could feel his wonderment oozing off him. When she ushered him into the main office, she felt Kit’s curiosity calm down some despite his attention being fixed on the gargoyles that protruded from the ceiling above. It was only when Mama Dee stepped out from the small office normally occupied by Belinda Yaris that Kit returned to the moment. Shelly was quick with the introductions. When she watched Kit ignore the hand Mama Dee had extended to welcome him, Shelly was glad she had omitted the fact that her new recruit was the one taking Katuri-Buttercup’s place. A prejudice on both sides would only have made things all the more uncomfortable. To her relief, though, Kit James did nod politely toward the small black woman and said “ma’am” as his own acknowledgement of her welcome. That had been Shelly’s cue to complete the purpose of their visit to the office and be gone as soon as possible.

Now, Kit James stood in the doorway of her own small office, his eyes watching her steadily. When it occurred to Shelly he had not answered her, she looked up from the files.

“Well?” she demanded. “Have you read the book or not?”

“Yup,” he answered. “I nodded.”

“Well open your mouth, son,” Shelly barked. “I can’t hear your brains rattlin’ around in your head when you answer like that. So if you really read the guide, do you understand the rules?”

“Yup,” Kit replied.

“Rule number one?” she pressed as her attention returned to the files in her hand.

“Purpose,” Kit stated.

“And what is that purpose?”

“To collect the souls and escort them to their fate.”

“Very good, Mr. James. What else?”

“Heaven’s on my left, Hell’s on my right,” the hunter replied calmly. “Either way it goes, I’m s’posed to wish them ‘eternal peace’, though I can’t reckon how they’d find peace in Hell.”

Shelly looked up at the man in curious surprise. It was the first time he had revealed a thought since their time together. She had grown accustomed to the short replies that punctuated his silence.

“Do you believe in Heaven and Hell, Mr. James?”

“They exist, but I know it means something different to everybody. My thoughts may not be the same as yours, but obviously that doesn’t make much difference against the fact that the two places exist. It certainly doesn’t make a difference in what door gets opened for the soul we’re reaping, now does it?”

Shelly smiled gently at the sense of pride she could feel rising up in her. Kit James was an intelligent soul. She was relieved to know she wouldn’t be answering a ton of inane questions as she guided him through the processes of reaping.

“And why would it not make a difference?”

“Because we ain’t judges, just escorts,” Kit summarized.

“Do you believe in God, Mr. James?”

“It depends on the day,” Kit shrugged, “but that’s between me and Him. It don’t affect how I’m s’posed to treat others.”

“Surprisingly, I believe you,” Shelly admitted. “Well, I think we’ve got a few here that will give you an idea of what we face most of the time. We’ll start with these and then come back for more when we’re finished,” she explained as she opened the white purse in her lap and stored the selected files inside. Kit remained silent as she stood and exited the small space with him in tow.

38. Transitions

John scanned the crowd past Jean-Pierre’s shoulder. He had received Brigit’s inquiry to his location some few minutes before. It had come as they were walking casually through the square just outside the Spanish office. Jean-Pierre was continuing his re-count of his first few days as the new Bailey to the rapt Anya Travnikova. Until the moment he had heard Brigit’s voice in his mind, John had been providing the witty interjections to the Senior Bailey’s tale. Now, a seriousness had come over the Grim Reaper while they stood in the middle of the square waiting.

Around them, the living milled about in the evening air, conversations floating easily across the space to his ears. He wondered, briefly, if the living could continue so easily if they were aware that Death and the escort to their fates stood so close to them. As his ice blue eyes continued to move over the faces, John was surprised to see only one pair of mortal eyes fixed on them. It was an older woman, he noticed, but not so old as to be waiting for them to approach her. She could see them clearly, he realized. Ah, a gifted one, he thought as he raised a hand to acknowledge her. The woman, in return, picked up her wine glass and saluted him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Brigit’s voice broke John’s concentration from the woman sitting across the square. When he turned his ice blue eyes to meet hers, he was concerned to see such a serious expression on her face.

“Is everything well?” John asked as he remembered that Brigit was to meet with Maggie this evening. He wondered if that meeting was the reason for his assistant’s dour expression.

“As well as can be expected,” Brigit replied quietly. She glanced at Jean-Pierre and the young woman standing by his side. She recognized her to be Anya Travnikova. “Why are you all here?”

“Oh, we are taking Miss Travnikova around for introductions to the other assistants. She’s having some difficulties with one particular, yet very important, aspect of her new position. So, Jean-Pierre has decided that until she can master this much needed skill, Miss Travnikova will serve as the delivery Bailey.”

“You’re made her the mail-girl?” Brigit asked as she studied the attractive young woman. “What is she having trouble with?”

“The Voice,” John sighed. “She can’t hear it yet.”

“That’s not good. How long will it take before she can hear it?”

“We don’t know. The other Baileys are already operating. Miss Travnikova, well, we don’t know,” John shook his head in show of his lack for a definitive answer. “This is the best temporary solution until we return from holiday. Hopefully, by then, her situation will have changed and she can join the others in their duties.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Brigit promised.

“That will be appreciated, Brigit. Jean-Pierre won’t admit it, but I have the feeling Miss Travnikova may have found a special place in his heart.”

“How do you mean?” Brigit asked. Her sight was still settled on the red-haired young woman that was laughing so easily at whatever Jean-Pierre was saying to her.

“I mean that I believe her to be his favorite; but don’t say anything. It would embarrass them both,” John chuckled.

“That secret’s safe,” Brigit assured him.

“Are you ready to begin your transition duties?”

“Yes,” Brigit confirmed. “Mr. James accepted our offer. He’s training with Shelly Longmont right now. I see you’ve taken care of finding the replacement for Belinda. Thank you,”

“Mama Dee needed a break,” John replied.

“I know. It’s a good choice,” Brigit commented. “Belinda is comfortable enough with my duties, but just to maintain that comfort, I will keep an eye on her as well. Good evening, Jean,” she greeted when the Senior Bailey and his recruit had finally noticed them and came to join them.

“How wonderful to see you again, cheri,” Jean-Pierre greeted between kisses planted on each of Brigit’s cheeks. “You remember my Anya, no?” The smiling young woman waved as Brigit and John quickly exchanged knowing glances.

“Yes, good evening, Miss Travnikova,” Brigit greeted.

“Well, let’s get on with it,” John decided out loud. “We might as well make the announcement of Brigit’s transition as well. Come, I’m sure Madame Zapatos has spied us by now and is eagerly awaiting the purpose of our visit,” the Grim Reaper remarked with another knowing glance in Brigit’s direction before turning to lead the small group across the square toward the phantom café that served as the satellite office for Spain.

“He was joking, no?” Anya leaned in close to Brigit and asked quietly.

“Yes,” Brigit confirmed. “Insert sarcasm often around us. We speak it fluently.”

Despite the heaviness that weighed on her heart, Brigit smiled at the young woman. When Anya smiled back, Brigit felt her spirit lighten, if only for the few moments it took to cross the square and enter the café.

Madame Zapatos looked up from her work as the door to the café opened and admitted John Blackwick into the space. At the sight of the Bailey directly behind the Grim Reaper, she leaned back in her seat. Curiosity grew at the appearance of the attractive red-headed woman, but everything that had been building in her came crashing to the pit of the Spanish Reaper’s stomach at the vision of Brigit Malone bringing up the rear of the line. Madame Zapatos felt her nerves stand on edge as she watched Brigit turn to close the door behind her.

It had been three years since the day she had first met Brigit Malone. Despite her best effort to reconcile the tumultuous first encounter with the American Assistant, Madame Zapatos had been given boundaries she only imagined crossing. For the past three years, she had tried not to think of Brigit Malone at all. It was an attempt she had failed at quite often.

“Good evening, Madame Zapatos,” John greeted as the Spanish Assistant rose from her chair and came to greet them. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything too important.”

“Not at all,” Madame Zapatos replied as she forced a nervous smile to her lean face. Her dark eyes flitted to take in Brigit Malone once more before meeting John’s ice blue gaze. “What do I owe for this pleasant surprise?”

“We’ve come to inform you of some changes to the hierarchy of the firm,” John explained.

“Changes? What kind of changes?”

John quickly launched into the announcement of his impending holiday and the introduction of Anya Travnikova as the new delivery person for the other Baileys. Brigit watched closely as the Spanish Reaper assessed the smaller woman between them while shaking Anya’s hand politely. John continued with the announcement that Brigit would be promoted to fill his position as the Grim Reaper. Surprise filled the Gypsy woman’s eyes as she looked to Brigit.

“Congratulations,” Madame Zapatos offered. “If I can be of any assistance to you, do not hesitate to call upon me.”

“I appreciate that,” Brigit replied with a faint smile.

“Well, that’s all we came for, Madame Zapatos,” John interjected. “We’re off to the Russian office now. Is everything all right with you here, Madame?” John asked, suddenly feeling a need to check in one last time before he was officially off the clock.

“Everything is fine here, John. Enjoy your holiday,” Madame Zapatos smiled easily. “You deserve it.”

Madame Zapatos watched as the small group turned and left the café as quickly as they had entered. When she returned to the table where she had been working, she was still smiling. Brigit Malone’s promotion to the status of Grim Reaper meant there would be visits. Visitations meant more opportunity to learn Brigit’s ways and perhaps, possibly, the attempt to cross a boundary the Gypsy woman had only daydreamed of…

As the small group crossed the square toward the alley that served as the portal, John fell in beside Brigit.

“That was generous of her to offer her assistance to you,” he pointed out with a wry grin.

Brigit heard the teasing tone laced in his words. John Blackwick was fully aware of the infatuation Madame Zapatos held in regard to Brigit. He was also aware of the boundaries Brigit had set to avoid adding fuel to that flame.

“Yes, but she is the last soul I’d call upon for anything,” Brigit commented dryly before entering the alley’s waiting portal. John Blackwick laughed lightly and followed in her wake.

39: Taking Over

Ned Cadoc wore a broad grin as he entered The Drink House. He paused just inside the door and scanned the occupants of the room. His expression was not affected by the lack of movement from the other spirits to acknowledge his presence. Over the past century, he had grown used to being ignored by them.

But that going to change. Today, he would was making his announcement. He would make them notice him.

“Barkeep, a bottle,” Ned instructed the small man standing on the other side of the makeshift bar.

The small man nodded and turned to do as he had been requested while Ned casually leaned on elbow on the beam of wood held up by two large oak barrels. His eyes roamed the faces of the spirits still sitting around the small tables of the room once more. They were an olio of souls from different periods in time. Ned, though he had not spent his entire after life in Alpina (thanks to Kit James), felt as if he knew each one personally. Things were going to be different soon. As if he were some benevolent wizard-king, Ned would wake them from the silence they slept in; lead them out of The Drink House to soak up the sun and bask in their adoring gratitude for it. He’d bring some life back to the small town he had always planned to make his own.

Ned turned and lifted the shot glass the bartender had filled for him and took a sip while going over his plan once more. It had become apparent to him once he had finally understood that Kit James was gone. It was too easy, but Ned didn’t care. All he could see was the removal of his most immediate obstacle and he was happy for it.

He had followed Kit James and the woman in black from a safe distance. Glee danced in the pit of his stomach as he came to the thought of Kit James was finally being taken away, crossed over to face his final fate. Could it really be so easy? Had the winds finally blown in Ned’s favor?

Setting his glass back to the bar, Ned took a deep breath of confidence and turned back around to face the souls sitting in silence behind him.

“Good citizens of Alpina!” he called cheerfully, “I have an announcement to make.”

Ned waited to see whether he had garnered their attentions. Only one pair of eyes turned in his direction. The young woman standing in the further most corner by the window was the only one to pay attention. Ned flashed his most charming smile at her. When she rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the scenery outside The Drink House window, Ned felt his temper flare.

“It is my intention,” Ned said through clenched teeth, “to take control of Alpina. From this day forward, you may refer to me as Mayor Cadoc. I will endeavor to make Alpina a better place in which to spend our after lives. I will guard you all against those who would come here to take you from this slice of pure heaven. As your new mayor, I promise to keep all citizens of Alpina safe. All I ask is that y’all behave yourselves toward me and one another. There’s no reason not to maintain peaceful relations around here. It doesn’t have to be like it was before. I’m a new man and I hope y’all will give me the chance to prove it. It’s your choice.”

Ned paused to catch his breath. No one in the room had turned during his speech. Not a single one of the gathered souls exhibited any sign of hearing him. No one seemed interested in even responding.

It didn’t matter, he decided. He had said what he wanted to say. If push ever came to shove, Ned Cadoc would remind them they had been given the guidelines for existence in his town. It wasn’t too much to ask for; Ned mused as he turned his back to the room and downed the remaining contents of the shot glass the bartender had provided. A little respect would go a long way with Ned Cadoc. It wouldn’t be his fault if they chose to ignore his rules. He had given them an option. It was their choice…

With that in mind, Ned slammed the glass against the plank and adjusted the brim of his hat. Straight-backed, Ned turned and walked out of The Drink House to make his way to the next gathering spot without so much as a glance at his fellow citizens still staring out the window. He would make the speech again – hopefully to a more receptive audience.

40: Josie Gail Goes Home

The girl sighed heavily for the thousandth time. She had been reading the Field Guide over and over for two days now. At first, she had read the words, understanding the basic meaning of them. There were some big ones in them, though, some words she had never heard during her days at the schoolhouse. The girl focused on the big words, spelling them out loud with the hope of their definitions somehow being revealed to her by the sound of her own voice.

Brigit had yet to return to the office. Josie knew the dark woman was going to quiz her about the meaning of the rules. Her frustration mounted with the knowing she couldn’t explain what she was reading. The big words, despite being able to say them, meant nothing to Josie Gail.

Miss Yaris had shooed Josie to the little room just to the side of the door. While the strange looking young woman had invited Josie to ask questions of her, she appeared to not be truly interested in Josie’s plight. More than once, Josie had looked up from the book with the idea that she should just go and ask Miss Yaris her questions and be done with it; but Josie shot those ideas down with the thought that Brigit Malone would be more impressed if she worked it out on her own. In the back of her mind, Josie could hear her mother’s voice, admonishing her for her stubborn pride. This made the girl all the more determined to work it out for herself, clutching the thin book in her hands until the edges curled with the pressure from her fingers.

Two days had passed. She had not been able to witness the rising or setting of the sun like she would have if she had been back in Alpina, but she could feel it inside. It was a strange feeling, to know the days were passing without her to see it. It was a mystery Josie would try to think about later; but right now, she was facing a more pressing mystery.

The girl sighed yet again and gently closed the book. She wasn’t getting it. She wasn’t going to get it. She needed to accept that. She needed to just go home to Alpina and forget this whole mess. Kit James had been right to reject her request to join him. Josie had no place in the affairs of Reapers. While she knew she was brave enough to do the work, she had the sinking feeling she simply wasn’t smart enough.

It was with that feeling Josie lay the curled field guide on the small table holding the candle that had provided the light for her reading. Though she knew she would not feel the burn of the flame, the girl licked the tips of her thumb and forefinger before reaching out to pinch the wick of the candle. Enveloped in the darkness of the small room, Josie waited just inside the doorway, watching Belinda Yaris intently. The strange looking woman was intent on her work, never looking up from what lay before her on the desk.

Quiet as a mouse, Josie cautiously slipped from the small room, out the door and down the hall to the main door of 666 ½ Bleecker Street. All she wanted at that moment was to be home in Alpina, watching her mother do the same thing she did every day and would do every day until the Reapers finally came for them. Josie was sure it wouldn’t be that long of a wait now that Alpina had been brought back to the attention of the Reapers again. If the wait grew too unbearable, Josie imagined she would make a request of Kit James the next time she saw him. He would be a full-fledged Reaper by then. As a friend, if Josie asked it, she was sure Kit James would end the monotony of her afterlife.

Stepping out of the pantry of Doc Harrison’s old cabin, Josie took a deep breath to release the frustration she held in her chest. The sun was still shining over Alpina as she stepped out of the tiny one-roomed cabin and turned toward home. As she trudged up the muddy lane, the girl kept her eyes on the ground. She didn’t want to look at the town she had called ‘home’ for so long. She didn’t want to hate the surroundings she had once looked upon so fondly. The girl had never thought about leaving Alpina before and even though she now knew she could actually leave it, she knew she wouldn’t. She had no clue where she would go if she did.

Josie pushed open the door to the small house she shared with her mother. As usual, the woman was standing at the stove stirring the contents of the pot that sat atop it. Josie barely glanced at her mother as she closed the door behind her. She didn’t expect the woman to ever look up at her. She had not done so since the day Josie had died. Her mother had spoken to her, but it was never a full conversation. It was always the same thing. Holding the hope for almost a hundred years that her mother would look at her – just once - was gone as Josie Gail crossed the room toward the small room she called her own. As she reached for the door, she heard the knock of her mother’s wooden spoon against the edge of the pot and the clank of the lid as it was returned to cover it.

“Supper will be ready soon. Y’all be sure to wash your hands,” Josie heard as she closed the door to her room softly.

It was the same direction she had heard every day at this hour, spoken to a family that had disappeared until only one remained. It was a part of what had helped Josie keep time all these years. The statement meant that it would be dark soon, but time no longer mattered to Josie. Not now.

Feeling as heavy as a rock dropped against the moving waters of the creek, Josie sank onto the edge of her small bunk and slid the hat from her head. She hang it on a nail over the bedpost and sighed deeply. She wanted to cry, but she knew it was a useless desire. Crying would solve nothing. She knew she’d still be here, in the fading light of her room, alone with her frustrations and a ghost in the next room that was unaware of anything but the phantom contents of the pot on the stove.

Slowly, Josie curled herself into a tight ball and sighed heavily once more.

41: Checking In

Mama Dee looked up from the ledger she had been writing steadily in. She had heard the door open and close. She could hear Brigit’s voice just outside her door. When the little old woman finally saw her friend, she was curious to see the pretty red-headed girl that appeared to hang on every word Brigit was saying. The girl was looking up into Brigit’s face, her bright eyes fixed solidly on the Assistant Reaper as she spoke. Mama Dee watched the red-head nodding eagerly in acknowledgement of the instructions Brigit delivered. The little old woman bit her lip and tried to return to her work, but she could see Brigit hovering just outside the door. She could feel her friend’s gaze burning against her profile.

“Come on in, Bree,” Mama Dee called softly. “Don’t do any good to just stand there. I ain’t in the business of readin’ your mind, you know.”

Brigit entered the small office and leaned against the wall just inside the door. Mama Dee looked up, but kept her silence. The red-head was gone and despite the faint smile on Brigit’s face, Mama Dee could see the mountain of sadness in her dark eyes. She didn’t need to know the details to know exactly what her dear friend was feeling.

“Did you see Maggie?”

“Yes.”

“Did you set her free?”

“I didn’t really have a choice, did I, Mama?” Brigit asked quietly. “She deserves to be happy, you said so yourself. She needs to live the life she has left to live. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Mama Dee nodded in agreement. She wanted to go to Brigit and hug her tight against her breast to comfort her friend’s broken heart. Mama Dee refrained, though. If she knew Brigit, the crying was done and the acceptance was on its way.

“Who’s the little red-head?” Mama Dee asked with a nod in the direction Brigit’s companion had gone off in. She wanted to change the subject before she started to cry for Brigit.

“Anya Travnikova. She’s one of Jean-Pierre’s new Baileys, but for the time being, she will be serving as a messenger between the offices and the other Baileys,” Brigit explained, grateful that her friend had found a topic that didn’t have to do with Maggie.

“A messenger? Is this a new position?”

“For the time being, it’s a solution to a small issue. Anya is having some difficulty hearing the voice, so, Jean has decided to put her to work delivering messages and files to the Assistants. We’re hoping it will not become a permanent solution,” Brigit explained. “Though, I can see where it might further streamline the processes of the firm. It will save the Baileys time to not have to make their own deliveries.”

“But delivering their own files delays the death process,” Mama Dee pointed out. “A Bailey on break gives a person a few more minutes to live. Did you think about that?”

Brigit studied the small woman sitting at the writing desk. Even though Mama Dee had died shortly after Brigit, she was keenly aware of the traumatic experience Mama Dee’s passing had been during those few minutes after her heart had ceased its beat forever. While Mama Dee was overly fond of Jean-Pierre, Brigit knew her friend harbored a distaste for that particular part of the business of dying.

“Jean-Pierre has chosen a team of souls that are very much like himself. I’m positive that if the circumstances arise that a soul needs those few extra minutes of mortal existence that they will be considerate enough to allow it. I’ve seen Jean do it more than once. I can’t imagine that he would instruct his team to be anything less than compassionate toward a soul,” Brigit said gently. “Death comes for just about everyone, Mama,” she smiled.

“Except the Immortals,” Mama Dee responded.

She clearly remembered meeting Lancelot DuLach and Brigit’s doppelgänger: Cahira. At the time, Mama Dee had not had the presence of mind to question their Divine gift, but she had found herself thinking of it now and again. She always wondered what a person had to do to have such a gift bestowed on them.

“I wouldn’t be jealous of them, Mama,” Brigit chuckled. “They will never have the luxury of knowing their fates for the life they live continuously. As spirits, we can exist for as long as we chose to. The upside to that choice is that we will know our fates if we ever decide we’re done walking the spirit world.”

“I know,” the little old woman said before falling quiet for a few seconds. Finally, she looked at Brigit and the sadness in her friend’s dark eyes once more. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” Brigit replied. “Time heals all.” Mama Dee nodded in agreement. “Well, I need to go check in with Belinda. Everything has been transitioned and I want to make sure she’s still comfortable with our agreement.”

“John’s already gone? He didn’t even say good-bye.” Mama Dee sounded hurt.

“He’s preparing as we speak. I’m sure he’ll stop in to see you before he’s really gone. Jean-Pierre is still working out their schedule,” Brigit laughed.

“Oh, good.”

She was about to ask Brigit another question when the red-haired girl reappeared in the doorway. Mama Dee couldn’t help but to notice the girl’s eyes light up when they settled firmly on Brigit. She wondered if Brigit had noticed it as well.

“I spoke to Miss Yaris,” Anya declared. “She says drop files off at any time. This is okay with you?”

“That will be fine, Anya,” Brigit answered. “Anya, this is Mama Dee. She is our records keeper for the time being,” Brigit introduced as she turned the girl to face Mama Dee.

“Hello, Anya,” Mama Dee greeted politely.

“Is nice to meet you,” Anya gushed with a beaming smile. “Everyone is so nice, Brigit. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Brigit smiled. “Thank Jean-Pierre and continue to work on that one skill, okay?”

“Okay,” Anya agreed eagerly. “I go to see the others now. Good-bye, Miss Dee,” the girl said before waving in Mama Dee’s direction and disappearing from the doorway. When they heard the main door open and close, the woman cast a suspicious eye at Brigit.

“What is that look for?” Brigit inquired once she recognized it.

“Just how many groupies do you plan on collecting?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mama. Anya will be checking in with me often. I promised John and Jean I would keep an eye on her while she continues her training, that’s all.”

“Mm-hm,” Mama Dee drawled. “And I’m sure Anya Travnikova will be keeping an eye on you as well. Just watch yourself, Bree. You know what I say about red-heads.”

“They’re trouble. I know, Mama; but I can assure you I am all business.”

“It ain’t your side of the street I’m concerned about, child. Now, go on. Get to work because I have to get back to my own work,” the small lady instructed as she shooed Brigit from the room with the wave of her hand.

“Yes, Mama,” Brigit laughed lightly. “How about some coffee later?”

“Later is fine. Now, go away,” Mama Dee smiled.

Brigit left the small office and walked the length of the hall toward her office. She needed to check in with Belinda and then Josie Gail to see how things were progressing in the girl’s comprehension of the field guide.

“Oh, you’re back,” Belinda stated when Brigit entered the room and slid her umbrella into the canister by the door. The metal tip plinked! against the bottom before the shaft of the instrument fell to rest against the collection of abused walking sticks John kept there. “Anya says she’ll be here quite often. That’s exciting.”

“I’m sure you think so,” Brigit commented as she cast a warning glance at the Goth girl in the silent reminder to keep her opinions of the new Bailey under control. “Where is our young friend, Josie?”

“In the room. She’s still reading. I told her to ask if she had any questions,” Belinda related, ignoring the glance she had received. “She’s been very studious though. I haven’t heard a peep from her since she went in.”

“I’m sure her silence has nothing to do with your threat of kicking her ass,” Brigit chuckled. “Josie, come out here please,” she called toward the small room. She watched the darkened doorway, wondering how the girl could read in such poor lighting. “Josie? Come on out,” Brigit called again when the girl failed to appear. She looked to Belinda. “Are you sure she’s in there?”

“Yes. I saw her go in. Maybe she fell asleep,” Belinda suggested.

“Ghosts don’t sleep, Belinda. We meditate, we rest but we do not sleep,” Brigit snapped as she crossed the space to stand at the door of the small room.

Peering inside, she could see no trace of Josie in either the chair or on the small bed in the corner. Brigit stepped into the room, her eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness within it. To double check her initial inspection, she looked to the small bed. It was empty. As she brought her sight around to look at the chair once more, it stopped halfway between the two pieces of furniture to rest on the small table that held a candle. An unusual shape held her interest. Recognizing it for what it was, Brigit snatched the field guide from the table and held it up for closer inspection. The edges were curled, as if Josie had held it tight while reading it.

“Is she here?” Belinda asked from the doorway. She was scanning the dark room around Brigit.

“No, she’s gone.”

“I don’t understand,” Belinda said more to herself than to Brigit. “She couldn’t’ have left without my seeing her.”

“Apparently, she has,” Brigit pointed out.

“Don’t tell me I’ve lost another kid,” the Goth girl groaned. “Brigit, I –“

Belinda was interrupted by the sound of Shelly Longmont’s voice filling the room behind them in the demand to know where everyone was hiding. Brigit and Belinda stepped from the small room to find Shelly and Kit James standing in the middle of the office.

“What are y’all doing in there?” Shelly asked lightheartedly.

“Looking for Josie,” Brigit answered. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” Kit James demanded. His irate glare fell on Belinda, causing her to take a step backward.

“I lost her,” Belinda offered.

“What do you mean you ‘lost her’?” Kit pressed.

“Josie’s not lost,” Brigit cut in. She opened the field guide to the blank last page and formed the question in her mind. In a matter of seconds, the word formed in dark black ink. Home was the word it revealed. She sighed and closed the book gently.

“Well, where is she?” Shelly asked.

“She’s gone home,” Brigit replied. “I guess I should go see her. She was quite intent on securing a position with us. I need to see what has changed.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kit offered.

“No, Mr. James. I’ll be all right. You need to finish your training with Miss Longmont.”

“That’s just it, Brigit,” Shelly cut in. “He’s finished.”

Brigit looked at them in surprise. Kit had only started his training the day before. The typical training time for a Reaper usually lasted a week, or two – as was the case with Shelly’s last group of recruits. Very few Reapers completed their initial training in less than a week before being turned over to a mentor. Yoshiro Takamoto had completed his training in only a few days before returning to Japan to sit the assistant’s chair there. Brigit herself had gone through a few days in the beginning, but even then, her training had continued in some aspect as she worked alongside John Blackwick.

“It’s only been a day,” Brigit pointed out.

“Previous experience seems to have helped Mr. James. He just needed the refinements and the full process shown to him. He’s done, Brigit. He’s all yours now,” Shelly beamed proudly.

“Do you have any questions, Mr. James?” Brigit asked.

“Nope.”

“And you’re confident you’re ready?”

“Yup.”

“Very well,” she sighed. “We’ll go find Josie together. I know you have a matter you’re anxious to see to as well. Belinda,” Brigit turned and lay a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “As you have time, please organize the files we brought back from Alpina and have them delivered to us there.” Belinda nodded obediently. “Shelly, do you have any new classes to begin?”

“No,” Shelly replied.

“Good. I don’t think we’ll be recruiting much for the foreseeable future. So, if you will make yourself available to me – just in case?”

“Of course,” the blonde woman said quickly. “Just holler when you’re ready.”

“Mr. James, if you’re ready, we’ll be going now.”

“I was waitin’ on you,” Kit pointed out calmly.

Brigit nodded and started for the door, pausing just long enough to pluck her umbrella from the container. Kit was close on her heels as they walked the length of the main hall and entered the portal waiting on the other side of the main door.

41: Waking Up on a Sunday Morning

She opened her eyes with a snap. Had she really been asleep? What had awakened her?

Josie sat up and rubbed her eyes. She had been asleep. It was the first time in a hundred years that she had closed her eyes and managed to completely disappear from her current reality. The shock of the realization was interrupted by the sound that had punctuated her rest. The pounding was incessant.

The girl rose from the small bed and went to the front room. Her mother was standing at the stove, unbothered by the pounding against the door. Annoyed, Josie went to the door and threw it open. The sight of Ned Cadoc standing on the other side of it surprised her.

“Good morning, young lady,” Ned greeted after barely glancing at her. “Are your parents home?” he asked as he looked into the room.

“What are you doing here?” Josie spat once she had finally managed to push her surprise aside.

“Oh, just making my rounds to better acquaint myself with the fine folks of Alpina not that I’m the mayor. Mayor Cadoc, at your service,” Ned introduced as he extended his hand toward Josie. When it was not received, Ned finally looked at her. Staring back at him was an angry face he recognized. Quickly, he withdrew the extended hand as if it had been burned. He had not expected to see her, especially today. “You,” he sneered. “You’re the brat that got Jim Dougherty killed.” He had remembered her face and story, but not her name in the wake of his surprise.

“Yeah? What about it?” Josie spat back.

“He was a good man and my friend, that’s what about it.”

“Your friend got killed on account he couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants. I was mindin’ my own business that day. He had no call to do what he did to me!” Josie screamed. “No call at all!”

“You shut your mouth, you little bitch!” Ned growled. He had never blamed the girl for Jim’s death, but after hearing her speak, Ned was inclined to start doing so with a whole heart.

“You wait ‘til Kit James comes back! He’s gonna kill you,” Josie sneered in warning.

A bellow of rage erupted from the well-dressed thug standing at the door. In two steps, he closed the space between them, clutched Josie by the throat and raised her high into the air. Her feet kicking in a useless attempt to find the floor, Josie looked into the man’s face and saw the intense hatred burning in his dark eyes.

“Kit James is gone, you stupid bitch. I saw the Reaper take him.”

Suddenly, Josie started to laugh. Ned shook her roughly and tightened his grip on her throat. Still, she laughed. The sound of it grew louder and louder in his ears until he finally snapped. Rage consuming him, Ned Cadoc hurled the laughing girl across the room. Her laughter did not stop even as she crashed against her mother and rolled to the floor. Josie did not notice her mother’s lack of movement as the laughter continued to rumble out of her small body.

“You fool!” Josie guffawed as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Kit wasn’t taken to be crossed! He went to work for them. Kit James has become a Reaper and you can bet he’s coming for you first.”

“Don’t you laugh at me!” Ned roared as he stormed across the room and lifted the laughing girl by her hair.

“Josie?”

The sound of the woman’s voice froze Ned’s arm in mid-strike. Josie immediately stopped laughing and looked around for the voice she only remembered in her distant memories. Both Ned and Josie looked to the woman slowly climbing to her feet beside the stove.

“Mama?” Josie asked in a disbelieving squeak.

“Josie? What is goin’ on here? Who are you?” Mrs. Gail asked as she focused her eyes on the man that held her daughter firmly by a fistful of hair. “Let. Her. Go.” Mrs. Gail growled once the meaning of the scene set in on her.

“Mama, stay back,” Josie cried as her mother moved toward Ned Cadoc. In an instant, Josie felt the edge of the knife against her throat. She had been so focused on her mother that she had not seen Ned’s hand remove the knife from its hiding place under his coat. “Mama, please,” Josie pleaded quietly.

“Me and the girl, we’re gonna take a walk,” Ned said calmly as he met the woman’s frightened eyes. He felt in control. Women were so easy to control – especially the mothers. Threaten their young; they always froze with fear…

“Please, mister, let my girl go,” Mrs. Gail pleaded nervously.

“No, I don’t think I can do that,” Ned replied as he set Josie to her feet just long enough to move his hold from her hair to her arm. The whole time, he kept the knife pressed against the girl’s throat. “We’re goin’ to go now. If you’re any kind of wise, you’ll stay right where you are.”

“Mama, just do what he says,” Josie pleaded. “I’ll be fine. He won’t hurt me,” she said, hoping to assure her mother of something she knew might be a lie.

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Ned smiled wickedly. “Now, you stay there,” he instructed Mrs. Gail as he began to back toward the door, dragging Josie with him.

Mrs. Gail watched as the man took her daughter from the cabin. When the door was pulled shut with a slam, she felt the first sob rise up from the pit of her stomach. How could this happen? Where was everyone? Where were her boys? How long had things been this way?

Her grief and confusion overwhelming her, Mrs. Gail stumbled to the work table and sank onto the small stool beside it. Her sobs were as haunting as the wind as she sought the answers to every question that tumbled from her mind.

43: Looking for Josie

Brigit turned to face Kit James as he stepped from the pantry and closed the door behind him. His face was set in a seriousness that went beyond the look Brigit was used to seeing on him. His eyes were cold as he took a quick look around the small room to make sure they were alone. For a moment, Brigit wondered if he could sense something beyond the silence that had met them.

“Do you have an idea where we should look for her first?” Brigit asked.

“I have a couple of ideas,” Kit replied. “Do you know where Josie lives?”

“She invited me to dinner on the day we met. She told me it was the cabin after yours.”

“That’s the place. We’ll split up. I’ll go down to the creek. You go look at her house. If she’s not there, come back and wait for me here. I’ll do the same,” Kit instructed.

“What if she’s there?” Brigit asked as she started for the door.

“If Josie’s at home, just stay there and I’ll come to you. If she’s at the creek, I’ll bring her here and we’ll wait for you. Either way, she better have a damned good reason for runnin’ off is all I got to say right now.”

“Agreed,” Brigit grumbled before opening the door and stepping off the porch. She heard Kit follow her for a step before he turned right and headed in the direction away from town.

Kit stormed his way to the creek trying to focus on finding his young friend while also trying to ignore the feeling that something was off. He had felt it as soon as he had stepped across the pantry’s threshold. The feeling had only increased when he stepped out onto the porch. Kit didn’t understand. He had been gone for two days. What could have changed during his absence?

Kit focused his attention as he stormed through the brush toward that spot he often found Josie Gail siting. He could feel himself starting to pray. Where was she?

When he was finally to that place on the bank where he would normally lay eyes on the girl, Kit felt his heart skip a beat. The rock where Josie spent her time in thought and her days fishing for fish that would never be prepared for a supper with her family, the rock where her petite body had been found lifeless a hundred years ago – was empty.

Fear rising up in him, Kit quickly scanned up, then down, the creek’s banks to make sure she wasn’t present before turning to go back to Doc Harrison’s place. His feet couldn’t carry him fast enough as he pushed his way back through the brush…

Brigit knocked lightly on the door to the second cabin set off the right of the path leading up the ridge. She had paused briefly outside Kit’s cabin, but nothing about his place suggested the girl’s presence. Brigit knocked on the door again, this time a little louder. Behind it, she could hear shuffling and then the sound of hurried steps approaching it. She took a half step back as the door was yanked open. Staring back at her was a woman in obvious deep distress.

“Who are you?” the woman gasped as she quickly took in Brigit’s appearance.

“My name is Brigit Malone. Is Josie Gail here, by chance?”

“No,” the woman replied. Brigit noted that frazzled woman looked as if she might cry. “She’s gone. He took her.” Brigit studied the woman for a few more seconds as the words sank in on her.

“Who took her?”

“A man, with a knife. He took my baby girl,” the woman explained. “Do you know where he took her?”

“Mrs. Gail,” Brigit said calmly as she deduced that this was Josie’s mother. “I need for you to calm down, please. How long ago did this happen? When did this man take Josie?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Gail replied in frustration as she turned to return to the stool where she had been trying to fill in a hundred years of blank thoughts. “I just know he was here when I,” Mrs. Gail paused in search for the right explanation. “When I woke up…”

“Woke up? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know! All I can remember is laying on the floor staring up at the ceilin’ and Josie’s rollin’ around laughin’ like she’s just heard the funniest thing ever and I’m thinking: what is she laughin’ about? Then, Josie sits up and says somethin’ about Kit James going to be a Reaper – which is sad because he was so nice to me and Josie and the boys after my husband passed on. Then, when I realized that I was awake and I could hear Josie laughin’, the man stomped over, snatched my girl up and pulled a knife. He said they was goin’ for a walk and if I was smart, I’d stay right here. Ma’am, he’s got my girl. I heard her voice for the first time in so long today and he took her. Please,” Mrs. Gail was beginning to fall apart. “Please find her. Please find my Josie,” the woman pleaded.

Brigit stared at the woman. She refused to be caught up in the recently ‘awakened’ woman’s hysterics. It occurred to her during the quick telling of events that the distraught woman had been caught in a time loop. The action of Josie’s knocking her to the floor had been the cause of her freedom. Brigit was certain that if she continued to remain calm in the face of Mrs. Gail’s emotional course, then eventually, Mrs. Gail would become calm as well.

“Mrs. Gail, do you ever remember seeing the man before today?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Think hard,” Brigit encouraged.

Surprised by the instruction, Mrs. Gail quickly rummaged through her memories of the life she had lived. As if the memories were a pile of rags, the woman dug as far down as she could before she found the one the woman in the long black coat might be looking for. Suddenly, she looked up at her visitor, her eyes wide in alarm.

“Ned Cadoc!”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure as I’m looking at you,” Mrs. Gail confirmed. “Ned Cadoc took my baby.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gail,” Brigit sighed in relief. “Now, if you’ll come with me, we’ll see what we can do about finding Josie.”

Before Brigit could say anything more, Mrs. Gail was on her feet and headed out the door. With the information the woman had provided, Brigit knew Kit James would not find Josie at the creek. She hoped he was waiting at the small cabin where they had agreed to meet. As she followed Mrs. Gail down the path that led back to town, she was surprised to see Kit storming up the trail toward them.

“She wasn’t at the creek and you weren’t at Doc Harrison’s,” Kit explained. “Mrs. Gail? Is that you?” he asked when he realized Brigit was not traveling alone. “Where’s Josie?” he demanded as his realization furthered itself along to the significance of Brigit being accompanied by a woman that had been frozen for a very long time. Yet, here she was before him, wringing her hands with worry.

“He took her, Kit,” Mrs. Gail said quickly.

“Who?”

“Ned Cadoc,” Brigit answered calmly.

She met his eyes in time to see the surprise of Mrs. Gail’s presence flee to escape the wrath of Hell that came to replace it. The serious look Brigit had noted upon their return to Alpina was back in place across his features. It was an expression that made her slightly nervous.

“Where could they be? Where could he have taken her?” Mrs. Gail asked out loud as she turned around where she stood, scanning every tree of the woods around them and every crag of the mountain that rose against the sky.

“I have a couple of ideas,” Kit growled as he re-adjusted his grip on the rifle he carried.

“Will he be alone?” Brigit asked.

“Yeah,” Kit spat as he started looking up the trail from where Brigit and Mrs. Gail had come. “I took care of his gang years ago,” he explained before turning to look at the town below.

“You seem to be trying to decide which direction to go, Mr. James,” Brigit pointed out.

“Well, my first thought is that he’d take her to the claim.”

“The Claim?”

“Lenny and I had a mining claim a little further up the trail near the head of the creek. Ned and his boys ambushed us there after Lenny took up reaping. They killed Len the second time. I’ve always had the feeling Ned still uses the place as a hideout now and then, but every time I’ve checked, he’s been gone.”

“What’s your second thought?” Brigit pressed. A solution was beginning to form in her mind. With the blink of her eyes, she called to Shelly Longmont with her mind. In a matter of seconds, she heard: I’ll be there in a jiffy…

“That he’s in town. If he took Josie, it’s because she mouthed off at him and if I know her as well as I think I do after a hundred years of bein’ friends – then that’s exactly what she’s done. Ned’s a show off. He’s gonna want an audience for whatever he decides to do.”

“Josie told him you’ve become a Reaper,” Brigit noted.

“What’s goin’ on?”

The sound of Shelly Longmont’s voice so close to them caused everyone to turn her way. Her smile faltered at the expressions her eyes met. Finally, Shelly turned her sight to Brigit.

“What’s happened?” she asked carefully.

“Do you have Rosie?” Brigit asked in return.

“I never leave home without her,” Shelly reminded.

“Mr. James, if you will, fetch your horse?” Brigit requested.

Kit turned and emitted a shrill whistle. It echoed off the crags of the mountainside above them. When the last echo finally faded, they heard the horse’s replying whinny in the near distance. Kit whistled again and then turned to face the women.

“Daisy’ll be here in a minute,” he promised.

“Shelly, can you ride?”

“Does a duck quack? Of course I can ride!”

“Good, I want you to take Daisy and Mrs. Gail up the trail to Kit’s mining claim, see if Josie might be there,” Brigit instructed.

“Brigit, what is goin’ on?” Shelly demanded as the horse came galloping up the trail toward them. The thunder of her hooves nearly drowned the sound of the woman’s question.

“I’ll let Mrs. Gail explain,” Brigit replied as Kit signaled his horse to come to him. Shelly kicked off her red high heels and walked to the animal’s side. She accepted a boost from Kit James onto the horse’s bare back, hitching her pencil skirt high up over her thighs as she made room to accommodate the strange woman Kit boosted up behind her. “Keep Rosie handy and be safe,” Brigit instructed. “We’ll be waiting for you in town.”

“Take my shoes,” Shelly called back. “I may be dead, but I still remember how much they cost me.”

“Daisy knows the way,” Kit said before slapping the horse across the nearest hindquarter. As Daisy started up the trail in a gallop, he turned and leveled his stern eyes on Brigit. “Can you shoot?”

“I’m armed well enough, Mr. James,” Brigit replied as she stooped to pick up Shelly’s discarded shoes.

“Not with that, you ain’t,” he commented with a nod toward Brigit’s black umbrella. Brigit looked at the instrument held firmly in her left hand.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked when she finally looked up at him in time to see him pump the lever of his rifle, chambering a bullet. She saw the firm set of his jaw as his eyes bore down on the town below them. She could feel his energy collecting itself within him. Kit James was perfectly calm despite his fury.

“I have in mind to kill the son-of-a-bitch.”

44: Waiting for Kit

Josie Gail held her breath as her mind raced. She didn’t dare move from the spot where Ned Cadoc had planted her against the wall beside the bar. She had already tried to run for the door once, but Ned had been too fast in throwing the knife. Josie barely ducked in time as it flew past her ear. While her left cheek had felt only the breeze the twirling blade created in its flight, it was the braid hanging from the left side of her head that suffered the bite of its keen edge. When Ned stormed across the small room to retrieve the knife from the wall it had found a home in, Josie realized she would only be safe as long as she did what she was told.

Now, as she watched Ned pacing back and forth by the door, she thought of her mother. Had the woman really – finally – looked at her? Had she really spoken to her? For so long, Josie had held onto the memory of her mother’s voice with only the nightly reminder to wash up for supper.

It was the excitement of knowing that her mother would finally be able to hear her, to talk with her that made Josie hold her breath. She wasn’t afraid of Ned Cadoc. Not really. He had made his point by throwing the knife. The lifeless tail of Josie’s braid lying on the floor a few feet away was the reminder to just stay put, no matter how long it took for Kit to come back to Alpina. Josie was sure he would. Alpina was as much his home as it was hers. He wouldn’t stay away forever.

“How long before he comes back?”

Ned’s voice broke through Josie’s thoughts. She looked up to find him leaning against the small space of wall between the door and the window. His dark eyes were leveled on her. Josie shrugged in reply. She didn’t have an answer for him. She had not had a chance to speak with Kit when he had come to the Reaper’s main office. She remembered the look he had given her once they had seen one another. Josie knew that Kit James had been made aware of why she was there. She knew he wasn’t happy with her about it and she had imagined there would be some yelling on his part as soon as he had the opportunity.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Ned asked.

“Nope,” Josie replied. “He could be gone for days for all I know. He’s a Reaper now. I suspect Kit’ll be too busy to always be hanging around here anymore.”

“I don’t believe that,” Ned grumbled as he returned his sight to the deserted street outside The Drink House.

He had run everyone out of the tiny saloon with the secret hope they’d hang around to watch events as they would unfold. As it turned out, the other souls merely found their ways into the other gathering spots to await their turns to go. It was as if they were firm in their desire to continue waiting, as if they had absolutely no interest in anything else in the meantime. This lack of interest from the others served as one more blow to Ned’s wilting ego.

He watched the trail that led up the ridge to Kit James’ place. He thought he had seen some movement on it earlier, but Ned soon convinced himself that it had been nothing more than an elk roaming about.

“We have unfinished business,” Ned reminded himself out loud. “He’ll be back.”

45: Kit’s Intention

Brigit hefted the rifle in her hands. She was surprised by its weight. She had never held a gun before. The feel of it now made her a little nervous.

Kit had explained the basics of using the weapon. He told her how to line up the shot and how to chamber another bullet if she happened to miss the first time. Brigit had absorbed the instructions quickly as she watched the hunter extract the pistols from his belt and give them a quick examination.

“There’s a ladder up the backside of the mercantile store,” Kit pointed one gun at the building directly across the way from The Drink House. “I want you to go up to the roof.”

“Where will you be?”

“I’m going to be on the street, calling out Ned Cadoc,” Kit answered as he returned one of the pistols to its place in his belt. Brigit watched as he reached for something in his shirt pocket. “Since I won’t be performin’ this proper, you need these.”

He passed the portfolio and field guide he had taken after Katuri-Buttercup’s passage into Limbo over to Brigit. She glanced at the name on the front of the portfolio: Ned Cadoc. She frowned with the thought that came to mind.

“You never intended to cross him properly, did you?” she asked as she pocketed the portfolio and field guide. She already knew the answer, but she wanted the satisfaction of his admission.

“With all due respect, ma’am, Cadoc doesn’t deserve it. Even if he’s bound for Hell, he don’t deserve to know his fate or to know he might find redemption there. I realize I’m probably breaking a rule by making that decision and following up on it, but if there’s consequences to it, I’ll face ‘em. I’m right sorry to involve you in this, but you gave me no choice really. Now, if he gets lucky and things go south, I want you to take the shot and make it a good one because if he runs like the yella-tail he tends to be when he’s outnumbered, he’ll keep you chasin’ after him for an eternity,” Kit warned. Brigit nodded in understanding. “Now, go on. I’ll give you time to get settled before I call him out.”

“Good luck, Mr. James,” Brigit wished the hunter before setting off to find her way to the mercantile building’s backside. Her mind raced as she trotted along, the rifle firmly in her right hand. She had watched enough Western movies during her life so long ago to have a good idea as to how this was going to look. She hoped, as she found the ladder attached to the backside of the building Kit had indicated, that she could do what was expected of her.

Once she was on the roof, Brigit crossed it quickly in a crouch with the hope she remained unseen. When she reached the front of the building, she peered over the edge to make sure she could see the street below. She was nervous about this, but she was also trusting Kit James to know what he was doing. Brigit waved an arm into the air to signal that she was in place and took a deep breath. All she could do now was wait – and pray.

Kit saw the woman on the roof wave in his direction. Pulling his hat low on his brow, he set off in the direction of The Drink House. The one pistol was still gripped firmly in his right hand. The second was riding comfortably against his right hip with the butt of it turned in a manner that would allow him to free it with an upward swipe of his left hand. With each step he took in the direction of the town’s tiny saloon, Kit reminded himself of every reason Ned Cadoc needed to be killed. There were fourteen reasons. One for each bullet Ned had pumped into Lenny’s body. The murderer had emptied both his pistols, reloaded and added two more shots to Lenny’s carcass for good measure. Kit had never stopped to remember how many bullets Ned had used to kill him, but he was pretty sure it was nowhere near the same number Lenny had died from...

As he neared The Drink House, Kit set his eyes to the nearest window. He could see a sliver of someone’s back just at the edge. He didn’t have to guess the body’s identity. Kit knew it was Ned Cadoc. He paused for a split second, the thought of taking a shot flashed through his mind. Kit quickly pushed the thought aside. Even though he had no intention of crossing his nemesis per proper Reaper’s procedure, Kit knew shooting Ned Cadoc in the back was out of the question. He wanted the cur to see he man who would send him into the eternal nothingness of Limbo. It was the only way Kit felt he could keep some honor to the whole thing.

What surprised him was that Ned was watching the opposite end of the street where the path turned to lead up to the homesteads on the ridge. Ned had no idea he’d be approached from the direction behind him. It told Kit that Josie Gail had not told her kidnapper about the mystery in Doc Harrison’s cabin.

“Ned Cadoc!” Kit roared from where he stood in the street. “Let the girl come out and we’ll settle this once and for all.”

There was a brief moment of silence as he stood watching the door to The Drink House. Everything was still around him. Even the air seemed to have stopped breathing as Kit stood on the street, his intentions clearly visible on his face. Steeling his reserve, Kit called to the man inside again.

“Now, Kitten,” Ned’s voice called back. “You know it’s never going to be over between us. What would you do without me?”

Kit gritted his teeth. The mocking tone to the other man’s voice was pushing against the door of his resolve. Kit knew he didn’t want to lose his temper. It would be the end of him if he did.

“Come on out, Ned,” Kit called again.

“Why? So you can shoot me on sight? I’m not as dumb as you think I am, Kit!”

“You may not be dumb, but you’re makin’ it plain as day that you’re chicken,” Kit replied. “You always did like to hide behind everyone else, didn’t you? Let everyone else do the dirty work and then step up to take the credit. No, you’re not dumb, Ned. You’re lazy.”

“All right, Kit,” Ned replied. Kit could hear the change in the other man’s tone. He was annoyed. Kit had hit Ned’s sore spot. “I’ll come out. We’ll see who’s chicken.”

Kit waited patiently. He could feel Brigit’s eyes on him from above. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the horse with its riders round the corner of the building at the far end of the street. When the horse stopped, he saw the women quickly dismount and scurry between the buildings.

The door to The Drink House opened slowly. Josie Gail’s face was the first thing to show. Kit met the girl’s eyes long enough to register her thoughts. She was not afraid of the knife pressed against her back. In fact, it appeared to Kit that she was relieved to see him if only to be rid of Ned Cadoc as well. Ned Cadoc emerged next, a wicked smile on his face as he held Josie in front of him. The hand on her shoulder was white with the force of his grip.

“Let her go, Ned,” Kit said calmly. “She ain’t got nothing to do with you and me.”

“You’re wrong, Kit. She’s got everything to do with us. You see, I owe her an act of vengeance on behalf of Jim Dougherty. If you’ll remember, he was a good friend of mine,” Ned reminded.

“So you’re goin’ to act out on a little girl? That’s mighty brave of you, Ned. No wonder no one around here ever took you seriously,” Kit laughed. He had caught Josie’s bristling at the mention of her being a girl, but he ignored it. He had his reasons. He hoped it would save her soul.

“You shut up!” Ned roared. “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord! Well guess what, Kit! I’ve become the lord of this town and I’ll take my revenge on every last soul that has ever laughed at me. I will cut the throat of every man, woman and child that dared to disrespect me. Every soul in this town is going to learn how to show some respect,” the killer vowed.

Kit studied the other man for a few minutes. He wanted to be done with the talking. He hated talking. They were wasting time.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said slowly, “you can have everybody else.”

“Kit, no!” Josie suddenly interrupted. Kit flashed a warning look at her to be quiet.

“You can have everyone else,” he continued, “once you get through me.”

“You know, Kit, I’d be happy to take you up on that offer; but I’ve misplaced my guns. It’s a shame, really, because they were such beautiful guns. You remember them, don’t you? I’m sure Lenny got a real good look at them when I killed him the first time. Do you remember them, Kitten?” Ned teased.

He knew the mention of Lenny would annoy the man in front of him now. It was the trigger he always pulled when he wanted to rile the elder James brother. Ned watched as Kit processed his thoughts quickly. He smiled wickedly again as he watched the hunter examine the pistol he had held at his side throughout their exchange. Suddenly, Kit tossed the pistol through the space between them. It landed heavily in the dirt at the girl’s feet.

“Giving up? Just like that?” Ned laughed.

“Pick it up, Ned,” Kit instructed.

“You,” Ned shook Josie by the shoulder. She looked up at him. “Pick it up.” He loosened his grip on her shoulder, but then, suddenly dug in. “Don’t try anything stupid, girl. I will slit your throat in a heart’s beat if you do,” he warned.

Josie nodded silently in agreement. He released her long enough to let her stoop to pick up the pistol and pass it to him carefully. Ned snatched it from her hand and examined it quickly to check that it was loaded. Josie took the opportunity to take enough steps away from him to be out of reach. Her movement was frozen at the rapid extension of his arm, the open end of the pistol’s barrel aimed directly between her eyes.

“Did I say you could go?” he demanded.

Josie shook her head. She could hear her mother’s voice; but it sounded so far away. More than anything, Josie wanted to turn around and see her mother once more before Ned Cadoc killed her a second time. At that moment, Josie Gail was finally afraid.

“Let her go, Ned,” Kit said again.

Josie met Ned’s eyes in a silent plea.

“Go,” Ned finally snapped at the girl.

With that, Josie was off in a dead run toward the direction she had heard her mother’s voice coming from. Her heart raced as her feet pounded against the dirt. She was almost to the end of the street when the woman ran out and snatched her up in her arms. Her face pressed against a breast covered in white silk, Josie became instantly aware that it was not her mother that held her.

“You’re safe now,” Josie heard against her ear as she was carried off the street. It was the voice of the blonde woman she had thought to be so rude during their first meeting. When Josie was set to her feet again, she found herself standing between the blonde woman and her mother. In an instant, Josie was once again enveloped by arms. This time, they were her mother’s.

“It’s just you and me now, Kitten,” Ned drawled. “What are you goin’ to do? I’ve got your gun.”

“I’ve got a gun,” Kit assured the other man.

“So, what now? A duel? Do you want to march ten paces, turn and draw?”

“Dueling is for gentlemen. You are no gentleman,” Kit responded.

“Oh, I beg to differ! Let’s duel,” Ned smiled. “Come on, Kitten. I promise to behave in a gentlemanly fashion. Cross my heart.”

“Fine,” Kit growled. Ned smiled and turned his back to the other man. Kit pulled the second pistol from his belt and crossed the space to stand at the man’s back. “Ten paces and I’ll do the countin’.”

“Do you believe in God, Kitten?” Ned asked over his shoulder.

“Depends on the day,” the hunter replied.

“Well, I hope today is a day you believe because in a few minutes, you’re gonna be lookin’ at Him,” Ned chuckled.

“Shut up and march. One…”

Brigit watched from her perch on the roof of the mercantile building, the rifle propped against the ledge, her finger resting gently against the trigger. She had felt a sense of relief rise up in her at the sight of Josie stepping through the door of The Drink House, but the feeling dissipated quickly at the sight of Ned Cadoc’s hand so firmly gripping the girl’s shoulder. He was using her as a shield. Brigit felt her ire starting to burn at the sight of the cowardly man hiding behind the girl. Kit had been right. Ned Cadoc was yellow-tailed.

“Brigit, we’re at the other end of town…”

It was Shelly Longmont’s voice she heard in her mind. Brigit didn’t dare take her eyes from the scene below.

“I’m on the mercantile roof. Stay where you are…”

Brigit kept her dark eyes glued on the two men on the street below. She couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but she imagined they were exchanging whatever insult they could to push one another to the point where the fight would break out. When she saw Kit toss the pistol in his hand toward Ned and Josie, she realized it would only be a matter of time. She watched the girl pick the gun up from the dirt and hand it over to her captor. When Josie made to move away, Brigit felt her heart skip a beat when Ned pointed the pistol at the girl.

“Shoot him, Kit,” she muttered out loud as she pressed her cheek against the rifle’s stock and peered down the barrel at the sight. She had it lined up directly over Ned Cadoc’s heart. When she saw Josie suddenly break away in a frantic run, Brigit pulled her aim up.

“Shelly…” she called in her mind.

“I see her…” Shelly confirmed.

Brigit watched Josie long enough to see Shelly run out from her hiding place between the buildings and snare the girl in her arms. When they disappeared from view again, Brigit snapped her attention back to Kit James. They were still standing there. They were still talking.

“What are you going to do? Talk each other to death?” she questioned out loud. When she saw Ned Cadoc turn his back on Kit, she was confounded. “What the hell?” She didn’t understand until she saw Kit step up to Ned and stand back-to-back with him. “You have to be fucking kidding me,” Brigit groaned. “A duel? Really?”

Ten paces counted out loud. Ned smiled as he looked to the window of the buildings around him. He could see the faces pressed against the glass. Everyone was watching. They would witness his prowess when he turned to finally kill Kittredge ‘Kit’ James for the second time. They would realize his capabilities. They would know Ned Cadoc as a man to be respected or they would learn the lesson just as Kit James would…

Two shots pierced the silence of Alpina as a single sound. Ned’s smile remained as he stared hard at the hunter standing ten paces away. The shot was good. The winds would come any second now…

“Any last words, Kitten?” Ned called.

“How’s your head?” Kit called back.

Ned felt it then, the first stream of pressure that snaked from under the hat’s band and down between his eyes. He cocked the pistol still pointed at Kit James again as his free hand felt for the source of the trickle. The hole was at that place in the middle of his forehead. Ned’s eyes widened in utter shock as he looked at the fingertips that had found the hole. They were covered in a black liquid. The hand holding the pistol still aimed at his nemesis started to shake as the winds finally came screaming down the mountain above them. When the first brush of their cold arms touched him, Ned pulled the trigger…

Kit held his sight on Ned Cadoc for as long as he could as the hurricane-force winds rushed from the mountain’s top to claim the soul that had been consigned to it. Kit could feel the burning in his shoulder from where Ned’s bullet had cut through the layers of fabric to touch the skin. It was a minor sensation compared to the wall of wind that rushed against him. Kit held his breath as he finally closed his eyes and prayed he remained when the wind was finally gone. He thought he had heard a second shot, but the howl of the wind had drowned it.

Brigit held her breath as she watched the two men standing in the middle of the street, their gun hands extended directly at one another. She was sure one of them – if not both – would fall any second. Then she heard the rumbling of the wind as it rolled down the mountain behind her. It sounded as if the earth itself was moving as the wind channeled its energy to rush between the buildings and wash over the men below. Brigit held her sight on the scene despite the force that pushed against her. She had felt the winds of Limbo before. She was familiar with their weight.

It was Ned Cadoc the winds carried away. Brigit heard a second shot but it was muffled by the howl of the wind, like a firecracker’s pop against the explosion of a bomb. She saw Kit James drop to his knees, but as the winds rushed across him, Brigit was relieved to see him remain in one piece. Realizing that he had survived, Brigit scrambled to her feet and ran across the roof with the rifle still in her hand. She jumped from the ledge instead of taking the ladder down. Her Reaper had survived.

As the winds finally vanished, Kit opened his eyes. He had dropped to his knees at some point, but he wasn’t sure when. The street was empty. Ned Cadoc was gone. As the hunter rose slowly to his feet, he saw them start to enter the street. They were looking at him, some in awe, and some in gratitude. The inhabitants of Alpina had watched it all.

His attention was diverted by the sight of Brigit Malone coming around the corner of the mercantile building. From where he stood, Kit could see relief in her dark eyes.

“Are you hit?” Brigit asked as Kit shoved the remaining pistol back into place under the wide leather belt around his waist. She held his rifle out to him.

“He grazed me, but it’s all right,” Kit sighed as he looked at the hole Ned’s bullet had ripped into the shoulder of his coat. “I’ll live.”

“Did you know he couldn’t shoot?” Brigit asked.

“Oh, Ned could shoot. Ned had a dead aim. It’s a shame the gun I gave him didn’t.”

“The gun was off?”

“Yup. I knew he’d aim for my heart and I knew he’d be cocky enough not to check the gun for anything other than bullets. I was taking a big chance on whether he’d see the barrel was a hair crooked.”

“Wow,” Brigit breathed as Kit James let a faint smile come to his face. In that smile, Brigit suddenly understood the depth of the new Reaper’s intelligence. It was at that moment the idea entered her mind. It was something she would need to discuss with John Blackwick, and if she hurried, she could catch him before he was officially gone on vacation. As Shelly, Josie and Mrs. Gail joined them, Brigit knew it was a good idea and turned to go.

“Brigit?” Shelly called as the dark woman started off toward Doc Harrison’s cabin. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back,” Brigit promised over her shoulder. “Just wait here.”

Shelly watched as Brigit strode away. She could tell Brigit Malone was up to something, but what it might be, Shelly had no clue. She tried to reach out mentally to the dark woman, but Brigit had blocked her. Putting her hands on her hips in a show of indignation, Shelly ‘harrumphed’ before turning to face her companions as they enjoyed their reunion.

46: The Idea

Brigit stepped from the portal and took a quick look around her. The Bleecker Street Café was busy today with a casual collection of Reapers and the usual inhabitants that haunted the place at any other time. Apparently, it was time for a coffee break and everyone was enjoying a conversation that didn’t have to do with business.

To her relief, she spied John sitting at the counter, immersed in a conversation with Giuseppe Cincotta. The big Italian smiled when he spied Brigit at the door. Seeing his companion’s expression, John Blackwick turned on his stool in time to see Brigit striding toward him.

“Brigit! How goes it?” John inquired cheerfully. “Will you join me for a ‘bon voyage’ drink?”

“I wish I could, John,” Brigit replied as she signaled to Giuseppe to ignore John’s suggestion. “I need to discuss something with you before you go.”

“I’m listening,” John smiled.

“I think we should re-open the office in Alpina,” she said quickly. “We could use it as a training center and as a western office.”

“Who would you appoint as the Assistant in Charge of this office?” John asked, his smile never fading.

“Shelly Longmont and Kit James,” Brigit revealed.

“A co-chair? Interesting,” John breathed as he nodded in agreement.

“Well?” Brigit pressed as he turned to pick up the teacup sitting beside him.

“Well what?”

“Can we do it?”

“You’re the Grim Reaper, darling. As of two hours ago, I’m officially on holiday. So, any decision you’ve made during that time has been an official decision as the Grim Reaper,” John informed her calmly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then why are you still here? Why aren’t you and Jean-Pierre on your way to wherever it is you’re going?” Brigit demanded.

“Jean felt that he needed to pack a few things first.”

“Like what?”

“Who knows? We’re ghosts. What could we possibly need aside from what we have? But you know how it can be,” John sighed with an amused shake of his head.

“Yes,” Brigit laughed lightly. “Well, enjoy your vacation once you’re finally on it,” she wished as she turned to go.

“Off so soon?”

“I have to get back. I’ll see you when you return,” she promised before opening the door to the café and giving the direction to return to Alpina.

Shelly Longmont looked up as Brigit burst through the door of the small pantry. She was immediately curious about the excited look in the returned woman’s dark eyes.

“Where’s Kit?” Brigit asked at once.

“Outside. He said he needed some time to himself. I expect he’s coming to terms with the end of a chapter in his existence,” Shelly said as she watched Brigit step to the window and look out it. “You look like you’ve got ants in your pants. What’s going on?”

“I’ve had an idea and I need to discuss it with you and Kit together,” Brigit explained as she opened the door to the small cabin. Kit James looked up from where he sat on the edge of the small porch. “Mr. James, will you join us please?” she requested.

“Is John aware of your idea?” Shelly asked cautiously.

“He is, but as I am now the acting Grim Reaper, the decision is mine – well, ours – once I’ve discussed it with you both.”

“What’s goin’ on?” Kit asked as he stepped into the room.

“I want to re-open this office,” Brigit stated without hesitation. “A new office requires someone to oversee it.” Kit and Shelly watched her intently as she started to pace with the excitement of her plan. “This office would oversee the western half of the continent, serve as our training center and be the central office for Dangerous Assignments. You will need a records keeper and you would have the authority to recruit new Reapers as you need them. What do you think?”

Brigit stopped pacing and looked to the two Reapers that had not interrupted her once.

“Who are you asking?” Shelly inquired.

“Both of you.”

“Who do you want to run the office?” Kit asked.

“Both of you.”

“Together?” they asked in unison.

“Yes,” Brigit replied firmly with a smile.

Shelly and Kit looked at one another. Brigit held her silence, waiting for their answer. They were working something out between them via the stare. She tried to eavesdrop on their conversation with her mind, but they had effectively blocked her. As the seconds continued to pass, Brigit felt her patience waning. Finally, Shelly walked to the middle of the small room and picked up her purse from where it lay on the long table. Brigit felt herself tense up as the other woman reached inside the bag. Shelly kept Rosie there, the Smith & Wesson Model 36. When Shelly withdrew her hand, Brigit breathed a sigh of relief to see the deck of cards in her hand.

“We’ll draw for it,” Shelly said calmly to Kit. “High card wins.”

Kit nodded in silent agreement and stepped to the table as Shelly began to shuffle the deck. Brigit opened her mouth to protest. The deck was marked. Kit James needed to know before he lost whatever it was they were drawing for. Sensing her concern, Shelly shot Brigit a dangerous glare.

“You stay out of this,” she warned.

Brigit immediately closed her mouth. Shelly finally finished shuffling the cards. She split them evenly and lay the two stacks face down on the table. A slight smile played on her face as she looked to Kit James.

“Ladies first,” he invited.

Shelly smiled and reached for the half of the deck to her right. Brigit watched the other woman as she quartered that half and turned over the top card of the third quarter. The smiling face of the Queen of Hearts seemed to dare Kit James to try to do better. The hunter grunted before reaching for the remaining half of the deck Shelly had not touched. He turned over the top card and met the blonde woman’s surprised blue eyes. Brigit felt herself smile at the card he had turned over: The Ace of Spades.

“Well,” she said while trying not to laugh, “now that you’ve worked whatever that was out, can we continue this discussion?”

“You cheated,” Shelly interrupted accusingly. She was staring at Kit.

“They’re your cards,” Kit replied. “It’s not my fault you can’t read your own marks right.”

“All right you two,” Brigit cut in.

“I saw them just fine,” Shelly spat back. “I just didn’t think you could.”

“Well, I can, so there,” Kit retorted.

“Can we please get back to business?” Brigit bellowed. The two Reapers returned their attentions to her expectantly. “Do you two understand the responsibilities you’re taking on?”

“Yes.” “Yup.”

“Good. I will arrange to have all the files we took from you, Mr. James, to be returned for your completion at once. I will help you for the first few days to assess your understanding of the job and then you’ll be on your own. All Dangerous Assignments will be sent directly to you. Shelly,” Brigit turned her attention to the female Reaper, “since you are responsible for training, every new recruit will be sent here to you. I expect that you will take on the responsibility of staffing as it’s needed for this office. Now, do either of you have any questions?”

“Are you always this bossy?” Kit asked.

“When it comes to business, you have no idea,” Shelly answered for Brigit. “Go on, Brigit. Go do what you’ve got to do. We’ll get everything set up and we’ll be ready for you when you come back,” Shelly promised.

“I still need to talk to Josie Gail,” Brigit explained.

“About what?” Kit asked. Brigit caught the note of concern in his voice.

“She wanted a job with us,” Brigit replied. “That’s what brought her to me in the first place, remember?”

“So you made a decision?” Kit asked quietly.

Brigit sighed heavily and explained to them what her intentions had become after she had given it proper thought with regard to Josie Gail. When she finished, Shelly nodded in agreement.

“I can take care of that,” the blonde woman promised. “I think I need to start off fresh with her anyway. She’ll be safe, Mr. James, don’t worry. It’s a good position for her if she takes it,” Shelly said before Kit could object. “As long as she minds her manners, she’ll be fine.”

“Don’t hold your breath for that,” Kit quipped.

“All right,” Brigit said. “I guess that’s it for now. I’ll have those files sent back as soon as they’re ready. In the meantime, Shelly, you know how to reach me.”

Shelly nodded. Brigit looked to Kit James. He nodded politely before she turned to cross the space to the pantry. Brigit opened the door and stepped inside with the knowledge that everything would be fine. Everyone was in place, everyone knew their job. Yes, everything would be fine.

47: Thoughts with Coffee

Brigit sighed heavily and picked up the coffee cup Giuseppe had set before her. As had become her custom, she raised the cup and inhaled deep of the phantom steam that rose from the honey-colored surface. It had been two weeks since the last time she had found time to relax, if only for a few minutes, and enjoy a cup of Giuseppe Cincotta’s masterpiece.

John and Jean-Pierre had finally made their departure for places untold and Brigit had heard nothing from them until this morning when Anya Travnikova had come into the main office to deliver portfolios to Belinda. In her passing, Anya had stopped Brigit long enough to pass over the ancient postcard that had a faded watercolor printed on the front. Anya said nothing as she smiled and turned to go on about her business. Brigit turned the card over and smiled as she recognized the handwriting across the back.

“B –

We’re having a wonderful time. J.P. has kept us moving every minute of the day, but it is not distressing. Should be fit to return in a few weeks. Hope all is well. Regards, - J.B.

P.S. I HATE THE OPERA.”

Brigit took a sip of the coffee and thought about the schedule she had been keeping. Checking in at every office around the world occupied most of her day and when she had the time, she had been spending her idle time in Alpina to help Shelly and Kit sail the choppy waters of re-establishing a working office. Occasionally, Brigit played referee between the two when a disagreement would arise. In the two weeks since their appointment as co-assistants, Kit and Shelly had found a way to work together and it often involved an ignition of their tempers. To Brigit’s relief, guns were never drawn.

Josie Gail eagerly took the opportunity to become their records keeper. Shelly had brought the girl back to the main office for a day of training with Mama Dee. Once Josie had silently pushed past her shock of spending the day with a black woman, she had proved to be an excellent student. She set to work at once upon returning to Alpina.

Brigit had, as promised, spent a few days observing Kit James while he worked. He was a man of few words, but she learned by watching him to know what he was thinking at any given moment. He didn’t have to talk about the mixed emotions he felt over the end of the story involving Ned Cadoc. At times, Brigit witnessed a sadness fill the hunter’s eyes and she was sure it stemmed from a thought of his brother rather than the demise of his nemesis. At other times, she could tell he was re-examining those final minutes when he had faced Ned Cadoc, watching as he was carried away on the winds of Limbo. She hoped he held no regret in the completion of the tale. She hoped he could find a sense of purpose in his new existence as a Reaper.

Kit James had professed to be an unkind man, but Brigit had witnessed many instances of his kindness when he was reaping. They were as easy in coming from him as the moments of iciness when dealing with a darker soul. He was working into his position easily and Brigit was satisfied with his work.

Through the whole time, Brigit found she did not have a moment to think of the matters still wrapped around her own heart. If a thought of Maggie broached the threshold of her thoughts, she was quick to close the door. She simply did not have the time to mourn. When the time came that Brigit could think about it again – as she was sure it eventually would – she hoped to be healed enough to see it all for what it was: Progression.

“Is this a party for one?”

Brigit opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder. She immediately smiled at the sight of Mama Dee standing behind her. Concern danced cautiously with a happiness to see her in the little old woman’s dark eyes.

“Hello, Mama,” she greeted. “No, I’m not looking to be alone. How are you?” she asked as Mama Dee moved to occupy the stool beside her.

“I’m doing all right. I’m really liking the change of pace. How about you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“That’s because you haven’t,” Brigit chuckled. “The work keeps me moving just about every minute of the day. I always knew John was busy, but I never realized he was this busy. It’s no wonder he needed a vacation. I might need one when he gets back.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you’re the boss,” Mama Dee laughed. “Speaking of him, have you heard anything from him? I can’t imagine John would really go this long without checking in. It can’t be that easy for him to just let go after being involved for so long.”

“As a matter of fact,” Brigit pulled the postcard Anya had delivered to her from her coat pocket and passed it to the little old woman. “You’re partially right. I think he didn’t want us to worry about him,” she laughed as Giuseppe set a large mug of steaming cocoa on the counter for Mama Dee. Brigit thanked him as Mama Dee read the postcard.

“So, how are other things for you?” Mama Dee asked gently when she finished reading the message.

She passed the postcard back to her friend and reached for the cocoa. Brigit let her smile fade a degree. She should have known Mama Dee would ask about her heart. Friends did that despite whatever else might be going on and Mama Dee was always a friend first.

“I’m okay, Mama,” Brigit offered as she raised the coffee cup to her lips. “I’ve been too busy to dwell on it. Maggie deserves to be happy and if she gets that chance with a new love, so be it. All I ever wanted for her was her happiness.”

“Well, it’s not like you won’t see her again,” Mama Dee sighed. “I know how hard it is for you to take a step back, but it’s for the best. I’m proud of you, Bree. You’re doing the right thing for her.”

Brigit could think of nothing more to say. Instead, she tilted the coffee cup and drank the soothing brew slowly. This was good. She was relaxing. She decided she didn’t want any more words to come for the moment. There was nothing she needed to talk about. It was enough, for now, to sip her coffee in comfortable silence with a dear friend by her side. The words would find their way to her again. They always did. For now, though, this was fine.

###

The Author

B.L. Newport was born with a strong belief and sensitivity in the supernatural side of life. After growing up in the small Northwest Arkansas town of Siloam Springs, she has lived in New York City and Las Vegas, Nevada. During these journeys, B.L. has discovered the joys of hard work, good friends and good coffee. She resides in Denver, Colorado with her partner, Rochelle.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to everyone that has again inspired me during this journey. You know who you are and I am grateful to know you.

Thank you to Irene Stone for being my second set of eyes and for reminding me that Aspens are peaceful trees. Your input during this process has been invaluable to me.

For the real Mr. James – where ever you are, I hope you are well.

To my fans, family and friends – Thank you a million times.

To my partner, Rochelle, the biggest thanks as always. I couldn’t do any of this without you, your love and support.

To the Reader

Thank you for giving “Reapers, Inc. – The Hunter” a go. If you read any of the “Reapers, Inc.” series, I doubly thank you. If you have enjoyed the stories enough to recommend them it your friends, then, Thank you, thank you, thank you – and as always, Happy Reading