Secondhand Souls (Grim Reaper 2)

A blond woman in her midthirties came out of the back room.

“Whoa,” she said, when she spotted the big man. She stopped and backed up a step. “You’re a tall drink of water.”

“Honey,” said Ray, “this is Minty Fresh. Remember, I told you about him. Him and Lily.”

Minty considered the “honey” and gave Carrie Lang a second look: she was short, but weren’t they all? She wore an awful lot of silver Indian jewelry layered over denim and chambray, but she had a sweet smile, a nice shape, and there was a spark of intelligence in her eyes that really should have put Ray out of the running for her attention. It’s a lonely business, Fresh thought.

“Ms. Lang.” Minty offered his hand over the counter. “A pleasure.” As he took her hand he looked at Ray and nodded approval, giving the non-cop props for achieving out of his league.

“Mr. Fresh,” said Carrie Lang. “I’ve been by your store in the Castro. I always mean to stop in. What can I do for you?”

“I wonder if there’s someplace we can speak in private.”

“We’re pretty busy,” said Ray through gritted teeth.

“It’s about that special part of your business,” Minty said. “I, too, deal with very special secondhand items.”

Carrie Lang’s perky smile wilted. “Mr. Fresh, I don’t discuss the details of my business.”

“Under normal circumstances, neither do I, as the Big Book instructs, but these are really special circumstances.”

Ray turned to Carrie. “Big Book?” She patted his arm.

“I have an office in the back,” said Carrie. She turned and walked back through the doorway through which she’d come. “Watch your head.”

“Always do.”

Ray Macy audibly growled as Minty Fresh stepped behind the counter and ducked to go through the door.

Ray blurted, “You know Lily did me once in the back room at Asher’s.”

Minty Fresh stood to his full height and looked back over his shoulder at Ray. Carrie Lang popped back through the door, walked under Minty’s armpit, and glared at Ray.

“That is not news to me, Ray,” said Minty. But he’d bet it was news to Carrie Lang. “Miss Severo and I have parted ways. She is far too young.”

Carrie Lang held up her index finger to Ray, marking a place in the conversation where they would return at a later time—­for fucking sure. Ray understood completely, and had he been able to nod, he would have, but instead he assumed the expression of someone who had just accidentally plunged an ice pick into his junk and is trying to hide the effect. Carrie exited under the big man’s armpit. “My office,” she said, leading him across the stockroom.

Her office was utilitarian, small, with all metal desk, chairs, and filing cabinets. Minty Fresh sat in a guest chair across from her. His knees touched her desk and the chair was backed flush against the door.

Lang sat, sighed. “Mr. Fresh, you know the last time we started

talking—­”

“That’s why I’m here, Ms. Lang. All those secondhand dealers who were killed a year ago, ten of them, I think. They were all like us.”

She nodded. So she knew? What she didn’t know was that she’d been saved by the Squirrel ­People, who had knocked her out, duct-­taped her up, and thrown her in a dumpster until the danger passed. They’d come in the dark and she’d never even seen them. Fresh knew.

“I don’t think they’ve been replaced. We—­myself and a ­couple of other Death Merchants—­think that the soul vessels they should have collected are still out there somewhere.”

She shrugged. “The Big Book says that stuff just gets taken care of. We don’t need to worry about what other—­what did you call them, Death Merchants—­are doing with their soul vessel?”

“I know, but apparently, they’re not taken care of. Look, have you noticed an increase in the number of names, or any strange circumstances? More important, have you seen any weird shit when you’re out and about?”

“You mean like giant ravens or voices coming out of the sewers.”

Minty Fresh tried to push back in his chair, but there wasn’t room to do it and he bumped his head on the steel door. “Yes.”

“No. I did before, last year. But it’s been quiet since. The soul vessels are about the same. I bring them in, they go out.”