Page 10 of Death Wish

Walking into the back room, I almost bumped straight into the guy, who must have been just about to follow Kay into the store. He must have seen me pass through the curtain because his eyes widened.

“You’re like me,” he said. He was middle-aged, graying, with tan skin and a thick mustache.

“Sort of,” I said, reaching in my back pocket. I took out my tablet and turned on the search feature.

“Well, get in line, lady.” Anger took hold of the man’s tone again. “The girl needs to answer my questions first.”

I held the tablet up, snapped his picture, and waited as the database skimmed through all the deceased for a match. It only took five seconds to find out who the man was. I reviewed his profile.

Victor Martinez. Age fifty. Human. Cause of death—murder.

“You’re one of those reapers, aren’t you?” he asked.

I nodded as I read through his biography, took out my chalk, and started to draw the symbols for a spirit door on the side of the walk-in refrigerator’s door.

“You wanted to know who killed you, right?” I asked him as the door glowed orange. “I can tell you, but you have to go back and leave the Medium alone. Sound fair?”

“I just want to know—was it Frankie? I bet it was Frankie.”

I smiled. “It says here that it was actually a Will—”

“Will! That bastard! I knew they were sleeping together. They planned this together, didn’t they? To get me out of the way? I knew it.”

I didn’t answer, just ushered Victor toward the spirit door. Frankie and Will’s motives weren’t something that would be disclosed in the biography, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. He could assume whatever he wanted to. What his profile did say was that both were facing jail time for his death. I passed that little tidbit along as he walked through the door, then smudged the chalk with the back of my arm to seal it shut again.

Easy.

Why couldn’t all cases be like that?

When I went back into the front of the shop, Kay was counting the money in the register, head down. It took her a second, but she finally looked up, jumping again in surprise. “Jade!”

“You really did have a hard day,” I said, walking over to the counter.

“You have no idea,” she mumbled.

“If the other haunts were anything like Victor, I can imagine.” I paused, wondering if I should bring up the real reason for my drop in. Best to just get it out and over with now. “Were you able to find out anything about me or my family?”

She shut the register and moved to the store windows to close the blinds. “I told you, Jade, it’s a little more complicated than plugging your name into Google and getting an answer.”

“I know.” But excitement was bubbling up despite myself. “But you did find something, right? What is it? What did you find?”

She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a few folded papers. I reached for them, but then remembered I couldn’t actually touch them and pulled back. Kay opened them and held them out for me to read. I scanned the topmost sheet.

“Two families with the surname of Blackwell. One in Canada and one in the U.S. But I was able to find a Jade B. Well and a Jadee Black on Facebook, both in the U.S. but none of them look even a little like you. Some aren’t even driving age.” She flipped through the other papers, showing me the pictures she’d found of the other Jades. Even at first glance, it was obvious none of these women were me.

“Did you check obituaries around this time last year?” I asked.

She frowned. “Yes, and didn’t find anyone with your name, age, or appearance. Are you sure you’re from this country? I haven’t checked other countries.”

I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure I’m from here. A gut feeling, you know? But I guess we can expand the search to other countries. It can’t hurt, right?”

“Do you have a middle name?”

“Not that I know of.”

Her nose scrunched up, like it always did when she was thinking. “Are you sure Jade Blackwell is even your real name?”

Good point. If they wanted me to not remember anything from my time alive, it would make sense to change my name, too, didn’t it?

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