Secondhand Souls (Grim Reaper 2)

“I can’t live here, Charlie. I have to be at the Three Jewels Center. It’s my job.”

“You can go there for meetings and classes,” he said. “I thought you’d live here with Sophie and me.”

“I have to be there for the Squirrel ­People.”

Charlie threw his arms around her and pulled her close. “No. I’m ­never letting you out of my sight.”

Audrey patted his back for him to let her loose, but he pulled her ­tighter to him.

“Are you guys going to do it?” came Jane’s voice over the speaker.

Charlie let Audrey loose and looked around. There was a domed security camera in the doorway that hadn’t been there when he had lived here. He looked directly into it. “No, can you buzz us in?”

“I guess technically it’s not necrophilia,” Jane said.

“Please,” he said.

The door buzzed and they went in and up the stairs. Jane stood in the doorway of what had once been Charlie’s apartment, wearing Cal Berkeley sweatpants and a Stanford sweatshirt. “Come on in.”

“Is Sophie here?” Charlie whispered.

“School,” said Jane.

“Cassie?”

“The yoga center is mad at her for borrowing their backboard without asking, so they’re making her stay extra to scrub out all the old chakras.”

“Yeah, that’s not a thing,” said Audrey.

“Whatever,” said Jane. “She’s going to run by school and walk Sophie home, so we’ve got an hour or so to kill.”

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“I’m in banking. We have ATMs that do almost everything.”

“Aren’t you in real estate loans?”

“I am, but I’m pretty high up, so I don’t really do anything. Sign papers and go to meetings. I have an assistant who does the work. They don’t even miss me. I’m golfing with important clients right now, I think.”

“You golf ?”

“Nope. You want to go through your old suits? I’ve had a lot of them tailored for me, but there’s some I didn’t get to yet. They should fit you—­you look about the same size as former Charlie. You’re going to need something for the cop’s funeral and this Mike guy doesn’t seem like a suit guy.”

“He owned one,” said Audrey. “It’s pretty ratty.”

“Wait,” said Charlie. “How do you know what clothes he owns?”

“Because I went to his apartment to get the clothes you’re wearing now.”

Charlie suddenly became aware of the clothes he had on, felt the front of the oxford-­cloth shirt, looked at the jeans, the shoes, some sort of sporty black leather walking shoe. “I’m wearing dead man’s clothes?”

Jane looked at Audrey with a “What are you gonna do?” shrug. She headed into the master bedroom, waving for them to follow.

“You seem very—­I guess, very okay with this,” Charlie said.

Jane spun on him at the closet door. “I know! How are you doing? Are you feeling comfortable? Is it weird?” She looked over Charlie’s shoulder. “Is it weird for you? Have you guys—­”

“She just brought me home from the hospital this morning,” Charlie said.