Esprit de Corpse

nib hover over the signature line for several minutes while she chewed the lip gloss off her bottom lip and stared at the page. Finally, she dipped the pen to the paper, the words flowing scratchily as she signed and dated it.

It seemed weird to see blue ink instead of red.

After recapping the pen, she hit a speed dial button on her desk phone, leaned back in her chair and waited.

Her dad used to get his administrative assistant to place calls for him and often left people on hold even though he’d called them. My heart twisted in bitter betrayal. I hated to admit I’d once admired that man.

“Oh, hi. How are you?” I bolted upright thinking for a moment Shannon could see me. But it was just her call finally connecting. “Yes, all signed.” She laid a hand on the contract, almost petting it. “Soon. I’m very much looking forward to getting my life back.”

Getting her life back? Whoa! That had been my thing. I’d spent most of the past year trying to get my life back. Only to sacrifice it again minutes after I had. What did Shannon mean?

“I’m very conflicted about this decision,” she told whoever she’d called. “Iver PR is—was—my dad’s life.” She sighed and I tried to remember what it had been like to actually need to breathe.

A click outside the door and movement in the hallway caught my eye. I hopped off the credenza to investigate, but froze at Shannon’s next words. “It’s like when my friend Kirsty was in her coma. More than anything I wanted her to wake up and come back to work again. But I also felt, if that wasn’t going to happen, then I just wanted her to get on with it. It was selfish, I know, but I felt like it was me in that coma. My life was on hold since I was filling in for her here at the office.” She swiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I couldn’t help but wish she’d either wake up or die.”

Shannon had wanted me to die? Now I had tears in my eyes, too. Did that make me the grim weeper? I knew what she meant. It was a very human thing to feel, but how could she say it to my face? Hello? I was right there in the room with—Oh, never mind.

Outside the door, footsteps hurried away. Someone had been listening in. Perhaps Willa had decided against interrupting given the nature of the conversation. I crossed the room to check out who was there, but by the time I got there, the hallway was empty.

“Yes, everyone signed off on it but one person who couldn’t raise the buy-in fee.”

Shannon had sure changed her manner in the past year. She used to talk like one of the Death Valley girls, like, you know? Now she sounded professional and in charge.

And she was dressed very differently, too. When she’d worked here during her summers off from university, she’d been all casual and no business. Today she wore a somber skirted business suit. At first I’d assumed she’d bought it because she was in mourning. But upon closer examination, I saw that her outfit, while both pricey and fashionable, didn’t look new. She could have bought it used or borrowed it, but why would she? The Ivers had money. No, she must have purchased a business wardrobe after realizing I wasn’t coming back anytime soon. No doubt her father had made her.

Small wonder she’d wished me dead.

My death had ruined her life.

While I had actively tried to get my old life back, it seemed Shannon had just given up. She could have found a replacement and returned to school, but she had just caved to her father’s will.

“No, I trust her,” Shannon continued into the phone. “Plus she signed a nondisclosure agreement.” For a moment I thought she was talking about me, but the Hellish NDA I’d signed had expired when Seiko and his colleagues had revealed their time-syncing machine to all Hell the night I’d saved the world.

“No, she won’t say anything about the new management structure.”

Now I was confused. Was it the grad student life she wanted back? Or working as her father’s right hand? And how could a contract—an ordinary contract—give her either?

There was another pause while she listened, tapping the pen against her teeth. Had she already arranged to shuffle her leadership team? It had only been a week.

“Well, yes. The detective is still doing interviews, but revamping our business model isn’t something he should concern himself with, is it?” She sounded a little unsure.

And also? What detective?

“I’ll have it messengered over to you this afternoon.” She scribbled something on a sticky note. “Thank you.” Shannon hung up, then pressed the intercom button. “Willa, do you mind stepping into my office when you have a moment?”

How different her management style was from that of her father. He would have ordered his assistant—or any of his employees—to drop everything. I’d been on the receiving end of those calls often enough. And yet, thanks to his Deal, we’d all loved him. If Shannon’s colleagues cared for her, it would be for real reasons, because she was genuinely worth it.

Willa stuck her head in a moment later. Shannon handed her the signed contract along with instructions to courier it over to Ray Mora at the offices of Greatwhite, Nurse and Hammerhead.

The assistant collected the paperwork, trading it for a short stack of pink message slips.

“All these clients want to talk to you about the future of their accounts. Some of ’em sounded pretty upset.” She fidgeted, switching the contract from hand to hand. “Do you want me to have one of the account execs call ’em back?”

Shannon flipped through the messages. “No, I’d better do it. We can’t let them know I’m leaving, because we can’t yet tell them why.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes. Good thing she wasn’t wearing makeup or that would have been a real mess.

“Do you want copies made, Shannon?”

“Good point. I’m not thinking clearly today. Please make one master copy and lock it in this drawer with the other contract.” She pulled her bottom file drawer open a few inches by way of demonstration. Was that a parchment document in there? She slammed the drawer shut again. “We can make more copies as necessary.”

The assistant began to say more, but Shannon smiled at her wearily. “Thanks, Willa. If you could send that right away . . . ?”

Willa knew a polite brush-off when she heard one. She turned on her exceedingly high heels and left the office.

“Love the shoes,” I called after her from my place near the door, knowing she couldn’t hear me. I suddenly felt frumpy in my jeans and hiking boots. I drew my beautiful Reaper robe closer around me, running one finger down the soft, velvet piping. I sighed, remembering how Dante had covered the extra cost of the piping.

What did Shannon mean she was leaving? Could Iver PR survive losing both its Ivers in such a short time span? Surely she knew this was the worst possible time for an IPO. She needed to stay in place as CEO until she’d established that the business could thrive without her father. It would only take a year or so, then she could—

A whoosh-bam interrupted my deep thoughts. I leaned back against the door frame, trying to look business casual and stuck out my chin as Dante materialized across the room.

He arrived facing Shannon, but quickly realized I was behind him near the office door. He strode over to me, knuckles white where he clenched his scythe, eyes narrowed in my direction. “Kirsty, you were supposed to follow me. Now we’re going to have to start over. In fact, I think perhaps I should speak again with Colin—”

“Did you find Conrad?”

“—about us not . . . What?”

“I assume you went to the hospital where I’m guessing by the lack of, oh, say, Conrad, that you didn’t find him there.”

Dante sighed deeply, which, unlike when Shannon had done it, was strictly for show. “As I tried to tell you, I was merely using the hospital as a starting point. Now if you’ll follow me this time I’ll show you how to find a demon’s ecto-trail—”

“But that didn’t pan out so well, did it?”

He snapped his mouth shut on whatever he’d been going to say next, his lips thinning into a pale, straight line. His face began to darken, so I hurried on before the coming storm.

“I assume you didn’t spend the last . . .” I checked my watch. Thank Lucy time was aligned for once. “. . . ninety minutes waiting for me to show. You already tried the ecto-thingie. With no luck. You couldn’t find Conrad