I sat up a little straighter. “Oh, yeah? What else has he done?” Maybe I could do my own investigative work under the guise of studying government.
“He’s made some promises to important people, struck some ambitious bargains that might get him into trouble later,” my doctor said elusively. “But it’s not important to your studies. Back to matters of Congress—”
“But if he’s made dangerous bargains and has had to back out of them for unexpected reasons, couldn’t that be considered motive for murder?” I pressed.
Anthony pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose and gave me a look that said he could see right through me. “Maybe, but I’m sure your uncle has already thought of that, Jazz. Please, try to focus.”
Sagging back into my chair, I grumbled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Now, what’s the process for getting a proposition passed? Well, it starts with…” Anthony opened the textbook again and continued lecturing as if I hadn’t interrupted him at all.
I still couldn’t get my mind off the case and our lack of suspects. Something was bothering me, something I couldn’t put my finger on.
David Ward was the mayor before he decided to run for senator. A politician who’d been in the game for so many years had to have made enemies. And yet, when asked who might have reason to come after him or the members of his staff, the only people Mr. Ward could think to point the finger at were the Smiths. His immortal brethren. Who also happened to be outspoken pacifists. Knowing what I know now, it made sense. The immortals could only feel threatened by each other because they were the only ones who could kill each other. But there was a third immortal couple, right? Why not tell Uncle Victor about them?
From what I remembered of Angela’s diary entries, there wasn’t too much said about the third immortal couple, only that they dealt with “disreputable persons.” Wouldn’t that make them more suspicious than the Smiths? Unless the Wards were unaware of the kind of business this third couple did…But if the Smiths—who kept to themselves—knew what this couple had been up to, how could the Wards—who were powerful, influential and connected—not know? The answer was simple. Of course they knew. Which brought me back to my original question: Why not tell Uncle Victor about them? Why cast the Smiths as the villains instead?
I stared at the whiteboard; the words Anthony had written joined my scattered thoughts, bouncing around my brain like popped corn in a kennel.
District concerns→ Senator→ Congress
Premature proposition.
Dangerous bargains.
Three immortal couples. Government, black market, humanitarianism. An argument between the Smiths and the Wards, an almost-encounter between the Smiths and the nameless couple. One contract killer. A string of murders, forming a loose ring around the soon-to-be-senator…
Misdirection.
Withholding information.
I was onto something. Like someone with less than twenty-twenty vision who’d lost their glasses, I saw its vague outline but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. I must’ve been making a weird face because Anthony finally stopped monologuing.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“For three immortal couples the world is too small,” I murmured, my attention drifting down to the journal sitting on my desk. They were Angela’s words. And they were the final pieces to this jigsaw puzzle in my head.
Anthony scrunched his face at me. “You’re back to not making any sense, Jazz.”
“They’re both influential in the legal and illegal circles. Their work had to conflict at some point. So what if…?”
My tutor continued to stare at me like he wanted to put me through an MRI machine and make sure I wasn’t having a stroke. But he didn’t interrupt.
“What if they struck a bargain, one that would guarantee they’d never interfere with each other’s line of work again? And that’s why Mr. Ward didn’t think to mention his other friends to Uncle Vic.” I stood, the words coming faster now as the theory took shape. “But if Mr. Ward had promised to do something for someone else, something that would unintentionally disrupt the third couple’s shady dealings, the agreement between them would’ve been null and void. Which gives the third couple the freedom and, in their eyes, the right to send their old friends a message.” I was breathing hard by the end of my speech and my heart was deliriously pattering around my chest. Grinning, I said, “Tony, you genius, you cracked the case.”
Before I could race out of the apartment and find my uncle, pain like a knife sliced across my gut. I hugged my torso and crumpled to the floor, screaming. Anthony dropped his textbook and lunged toward me. He didn’t make it in time. My head hit the floor with a crack.
◆◆◆
I materialized by one of the brick columns of the beautifully ancient gate where good souls went to spend eternity.
Death walked beside a little girl with bright orange pigtails. Her soul emanated the same glow as my body did, the same glow Death gave off. The dead girl gawked at everything she saw with heartbreaking innocence. Death stopped at the gate and waved the young soul onward.
“Welcome to your final rest,” she said simply.
I gathered my courage and marched over to the being who had cursed us. I couldn’t waste any time. She had the power to bring me back to life at any moment.
“I’ve met the immortals,” I said when I was close enough.
Death’s hair rippled even though there wasn’t any wind. It was mesmerizing. I shook off my awe and focused on gauging her reaction.
She turned slowly to address me, as if buying herself some time to formulate a response. I read some tension in her face despite her attempt to hide it with a smirk.
“Have you? Now you seek to question me about them?”
“I do.”
Death crossed her arms and gave me the once over. “What gives you the impression that I will grace you with the answers you seek?”
“I never asked
