Secondhand Souls (Grim Reaper 2)

“Maybe it was you,” said Lily. “Not them.”

“Really?”

“You’re talking to me from beyond the grave, although not literally. A lot of ­people have been on that bridge over the last seventy-­five years, yet you’re the one she picked.”

“Oh, yeah. How’s your friend doing with my body?”

“He seems pretty comfortable. He’s boning a nun with it.”

“Oh no!”

“No, it’s okay. She’s into it. You met her.”

“Oh, Audrey?”

“Yes. So, what’s it like being dead?” Lily was suddenly aware of the ­other counselors in the room looking at her, which normally didn’t bother her. Sage was writing down the time on a Post-­it, no doubt so she could find the call on the recordings when she reported Lily. “Just a second, Mike.” She’d forgotten for a moment that all the calls were being recorded.

She pressed the mute key and turned to Sage. “This guy thinks he’s a ghost,” she said. “I just need to indulge his delusions long enough to figure out how to get him down. You want to take over? I can put him on hold, probably.”

“No. Go ahead,” said Sage. “Sorry.”

“I’m back, Mike. You okay? One of my co-­counselors was noting the time for the recording.”

“Recording? That’s not good, is it?”

“I just need to get you safely off that bridge, Mike,” she said, louder than was necessary.

“Well, I just called to tell you that I was okay, better than okay. I’m, well, I’m not just the me you’ve met, I’m a lot of ­people. And there are others here. Thousands.”

“Mike, as a trained crisis counselor, I’m not qualified or authorized to give you a diagnosis, but if someone less grounded than you were to say that—­that he was ‘a lot of ­people,’ then I would have to recommend he seek counseling.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

“Not really a mystery that you didn’t have any friends in life, Mike.”

“Oh, the recording. Right. I need to know if you guys found the Ghost Thief yet. Concepción says we need to hurry.”

“Not yet, Mike. We’re trying to figure that one out.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks. Keep trying. I guess I won’t jump today, Lily. You’ve changed my outlook. I’m going to go seek some counseling right now.” He was possibly the worst liar she’d ever heard.

“Wait, Mike—­”

He disconnected. Lily looked over her shoulder to see if Sage was still listening, but the frizzy-­haired traitor in carg

o pants was already on her way to the director’s office.

Well, she’s totally useless,” Charlie said as he entered the apartment.

Sophie ran by him into the apartment—­wailing like a tiny fire engine—­through the great room where Jane and Cassie were sitting, and into her room. She slammed the door.

Jane sat up, wineglass in hand. “I’m suddenly feeling a lot better about my parenting skills.”

Sophie opened her door and poked her head out. “I liked you better when you were dead!” she shouted at Charlie. She slammed the door again.

“So, good first day back?” asked Cassie.

Charlie plopped down on the couch next to his sister. “She can’t even kill a rat that’s already circling the drain. In fact, I think he perked up a little. She kept pointing and saying, ‘Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!’ but nothing happened. A ­couple walking down the other side of the street gave me smiling pity nods because they thought she was slow.”