Читать книгу The First Ghost - Marguerite Butler - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Why on earth had I set my alarm so early? I hit the snooze button and wiped my bleary eyes.

“Oh no, you don’t,” said Corinne. “You promised me. First thing in the morning, you said. Remember?”

I rolled over. She’d learned a new trick and now hovered directly over my bed. “Get out of my bedroom.”

“No. Get up. We’re going to my apartment to see what Ruth has done with Billy. Get up, lazy bones.”

I groaned. I had promised to visit Corinne’s apartment on the way in to work. I’d called my boss to see if I could get another day off, but her attitude was that if I was well enough to be released from the hospital, I needed to come in to work. She didn’t outright threaten me, but she hinted darkly about the amount of work piling up on my desk.

Fortunately, Corinne’s apartment was reasonably close to mine in Canterbury Park, just north of Dallas. It would mean a detour of several blocks in the freezing cold, but it would be worth it to rid myself of being screeched awake by a cranky ghost. The thought of living with Corinne for the next forty years brought me upright.

“I’m up. Now leave so I can shower and dress. I’m not doing it with you hanging around.”

“Fine. I’ll wait in the kitchen.”

“Good. Play some cards while you’re at it. And make a pot of coffee.”

She started to sniffle. “You’re just mean. I loved coffee.” And with that she floated through my wall, presumably to sit, or hover, in my kitchen.

* * * *

True to my promise, an hour later I stood, bundled and freezing, on the landing to Corinne’s former apartment. Having mastered the art of hovering, she no longer walked. At first I found it disconcerting, but it’s extraordinary how quickly you can adjust to things. Like ghostly roommates. And Death popping in and out.

“I hope Billy isn’t too sad. Do you think he’ll be able to see me?”

I looked over at her. She had floated up to eye level with me. I’m not used to seeing other women outside my family eye-to-eye. “Why haven’t you checked on him yet by yourself?”

“I can’t. I don’t seem to have free rein. I’m sort of tethered to you.” She stuck her lower lip out.

I knocked on the door. “Don’t pout at me. It wasn’t my idea for you to stalk me.”

“I’m not stalking you. I’m haunting you.”

“Like there’s a difference.” I knocked again. “Maybe she’s gone.” I shivered and pulled my woolen hat tighter as a gust caught me.

“She’s here. Her car is in the lot.”

The door opened a fraction. The security chain was still latched.

“Ruth?” I said. “Ruth Yeshu?”

The door opened a little wider, but the chain remained intact. A pointy nose and beady eyes were visible through the crack. “Who are you?”

“My name is Portia Mahaffey. I was a friend of Corinne’s.”

“She’s dead.”

Duh. “Yes, I know. I’m here about the dog.”

“What dog?” Ruth said.

“Corinne’s dog. I’m supposed to check on Billy.”

The door closed slightly as Ruth removed the chain and then it opened wider. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“That bitch,” Corinne breathed. “If she’s done something to Billy...”

“Cut the games, Ruth,” I said loudly enough to drown out Corinne in my ear.

Corinne floated into the apartment hunting for her dog. “Billy? Come to Mommy.” She made smoochy noises.

“I’m not here to take Billy,” I said. “You can keep him if you want. I...I promised Corinne that if anything ever happened to her, I would make sure Billy was taken care of.”

Ruth finally stepped back and let me inside. She pulled her sweater tighter. It was much too big for her and it swallowed her skinny frame. “It’s too cold to do this at the door,” she said.

“He’s not here,” Corinne said.

“You’re too late,” Ruth said to me. “I got rid of the dog.”

“Already? Don’t you think that was a bit hasty? What if her aunt wants him?”

“Not my problem.” Her ferret face was hard and mean.

It was hard to concentrate over Corinne’s wailing. “My sweater. She’s wearing my sweater. She took my dog and my sweater.”

I loomed over Ruth. “I’m making it your problem. I want Billy and I want all of Corinne’s stuff packed up for her Aunt Susie. Someone will pick it up.”

Ruth’s beady eyes narrowed further. “How do I know you were really her friend and not some scammer? You don’t have any legal right to tell me what to do.”

“You’re wearing Corinne’s sweater,” I said.

“Maybe it’s my sweater.”

“Lying bitch!” Corinne screeched, making me wince at the volume. “It’s mine. Mine!”

“It’s Corinne’s sweater, all right. I know that for a fact.”

“So what if you saw Corinne with it?” Ruth crossed her arms over her skinny chest. “We wore each other’s clothes all the time.” Yeah, right. Corinne wore double digits and Ruth couldn’t be any bigger than a six.

“I was with Corinne when she bought it.” Hey, I was getting the hang of lying.

“Marshall’s. Just last week,” Corinne said.

“...at Marshall’s last week,” I added.

Ruth’s mouth dropped open, but she closed it quickly. “How come I’ve never seen you before? Corinne didn’t have friends.”

“That she told you about.”

“I never even wore the sweater,” Corinne lamented.

“I don’t think she ever wore the sweater,” I said.

“It still had the tag on it.” Corinne peered closely at the sweater.

“I’ll bet you pulled the tag off and took it,” I said. “What else have you helped yourself to? Maybe I should call her Aunt Susie. Maybe I should call the police. I’ll bet that’s theft. Stealing a dead girl’s stuff. That’s low.”

Ruth wrenched open the door. “Get out.”

There were bright spots of color on both her cheeks. This was kind of fun.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what you did with the dog. Where’s Billy?”

Ruth started to look frightened. “I told you. I don’t have the dog. I took him to the pound over on Lexington.”

Corinne burst into noisy sobs.

Ruth gave me a shove. I stumbled backward and she slammed the door. “Go away!”

“You’d better hope he’s okay.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Come on, Corinne, it’s okay. We’ll get him. They keep animals for three days, I think.” That sounded right. I had heard that somewhere. Corinne cried harder. I looked around to see if people were staring, but it was too cold. Everyone had heads down rushing along. “Let’s go back to the DART station. After work, I’ll get Billy.”

On a map, Dallas Area Rapid Transit, or DART, looks like an octopus with the main body of the beast being in the city proper. Several legs run up through the park cities and farther north, up the technological corridor, all the way to Plano and Carrollton. I can get almost every place I need by train or bus.

“But it’s Wednesday and I died on Monday. We have to go now, before it’s too late.”

I gritted my teeth and called Cruella de Vil. Of course, my boss is really named Ginger Deville of Smithson, Parker, and Deville, but Cruella suits her. I’m sure she would club puppies if it helped her relieve stress. I trudged toward the station with cellphone at ear, prepared for the groveling.

Joy of joys, Cruella’s voice mail picked up, and I tried to spit it all out before a live human could pick up. “Hi, it’s me. Portia. Listen, I have to take care of something really, really super important this morning. I am coming back to work today, and I’ll work through lunch and stay late until my desk is clear, but I have to do this and I appreciate your understanding so–”

“Portia?” I winced as Ginger’s crisp voice answered. Should have hung up quicker. “I thought you said you were coming back today.”

“I did. I am. I just have to take care of something.” Or be stalked for eternity.

“What could be more important than your job?”

“I...uh...” Here I had thought my lying skills were improving. “I have to see the doctor one more time. And pick up some...medicine. Yes, I need to pick something up. That’s exactly what I’m doing.” That part wasn’t a lie. I was picking up a dog, and getting rid of my ghostly roommate would be the best medicine ever.

“You said the doctor had cleared you to work. I need you here, Portia. I can’t run around short-staffed. Where is the demand letter for the Butcher case? And my schedule? It hasn’t been updated in days. I hardly know where I’m supposed to be when. If I miss a court setting because I wasn’t properly notified...” She let the implied threat hang there.

“I’ll get everything caught up. I’ll have the letter on your desk by lunch, and I’ll get all your things typed and the schedule updated before I leave today. Promise.”

She sighed heavily, implying the huge sacrifice on her part for having a slothful secretary who had managed to get hurt. “Get here as quickly as possible.” Click.

That was it. Not even a How’s your head? Four years ought to warrant a card at the least.

* * * *

To get to Lexington, I rode the red leg into the hub and switched to the blue one. It was inconvenient and time-consuming, but the distance was much too far to walk.

I tried to ignore Corinne on the train. She hovered close by, but there was no way I would talk to her and get myself hauled off by security.

The train jostled to a stop at the terminal nearest the Lexington address I had gotten from information. As soon as I departed the train, Corinne was yammering again. I ignored her until I reached the pound. Then I realized that I had no idea what Billy looked like.

“So what kind of dog am I looking for?”

“Billy’s a pug.”

“Those are little dogs, right?”

“Oh yes, he’s a big dog in a little body. He’s got the most expressive eyes and a beautiful smile.” I rolled my eyes to express disgust at anyone who described her dog’s smile.

The smell inside the ugly concrete structure was two parts antiseptic and one part nervous animal. A woman in a green shirt that said Animal Control looked up.

“Help you?”

“I’m looking for a dog.”

Her expression brightened. “Any special type of dog? We have lots of animals here for adoption. Oh. Or did you lose a dog?”

I thought for a moment. “I have a friend who lost a dog.”

“He would have to claim it himself.”

“That could be a problem. Does it cost money?”

“There is a fee and of course the boarding costs since we’ve housed the animal for him. And if he can’t provide proof of vaccination, he’ll have to pay for those, too, before we release the animal.”

She looked at me shrewdly. “If you were interested in adopting a dog, you could adopt one for as little as fifty dollars.”

Crap, that was expensive. Still, I got what she was saying. It’s cheaper to adopt back your own dog than bail him out. “That’s very reasonable.”

She smiled broadly. “Let me show you the dogs. We have so many animals here in need.”

“I’m looking for a little dog. One that could live in an apartment.”

I followed her back through heavy doors that made me think of a jail. “The dogs are this way. We house the cats separately.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that.”

As she led me back into the kennels, the nervous animal smell grew stronger. I tried not to wrinkle my nose. And the noise. Dear heaven, the noise when she opened the door. Dogs of all shapes and sizes barked and yelped. Their howls echoed off the walls of the concrete bunker.

Once inside, I could see it really was a jail, a doggy jail. The inmates all rushed the bars, clamoring to be taken out. I’ve never seen so many dogs in one place. Corinne floated off past me, flitting anxiously about. “Billy? Mommy’s here. Billy?”

“Take a look around,” said the animal control gal loudly over the din. “See if anyone takes your fancy. We’ve got an adoption room, where you can spend a little time with any dog you might be interested in.”

“I don’t see him,” Corinne said.

“Are there any more dogs?”

The woman looked at me like I was crazy. How could anyone want more dogs than this? “Maybe in the infirmary. But those dogs aren’t available. We don’t adopt out sick animals.”

“I really want a small dog.”

“You and everybody else.” She walked past cages of large, shaggy creatures, down to the end of the row. “We’ve got a couple of dachshunds. And a little schnauzer. He’s old, but very sweet. He’d make a perfect apartment dog.”

“My sister has a pug,” I lied. “I’m very partial to pugs.”

She looked at me curiously. “There is a pug. But we took him to the infirmary.”

“My Billy!”

I ignored Corinne, which was hard because she was doing somersaults in the air. Lovely. Add another skill to her floating repertoire. “Is he sick? What’s wrong with him?”

“Actually he seems depressed. He won’t eat.”

Looking around the doggy jail, it wasn’t too hard to figure. “Could I see him? Maybe he just doesn’t like it here.”

I followed her back out of the hellish bunker. The moment the heavy door clanged shut behind me was a blessed relief on my eardrums. Pure bliss.

The infirmary turned out to be a separate building. It was much quieter and less jail-like. More like a vet’s office. In the back of one of the cages, was a fawn-colored lump.

“Does it have a name?”

“No. Someone left him here in a box. No note or anything.”

“Billy,” Corinne shouted, somersaulting again. “Billy!”

The lump stirred and lifted his head.

“Hi, dog. Um. Billy?” He cocked his head and wagged a curly little pigtail uncertainly.

“I think he likes you,” the woman said. “Talk to him.”

“Hi, Billy,” I said, feeling stupid talking to a dog. “Come on over and see me.” He looked at me. His tail wagged hesitantly. “Can I take him out?” I asked the woman.

Billy spotted Corinne’s ghost. He could indeed see her. I know this because he suddenly leapt to his feet and barked.

“I’ll take him,” I said.

In retrospect, I should have tried to adopt an orphan from Africa. It would have been far simpler. Who knew there was so much paperwork involved in picking out a dog? A dog, for crying out loud.

I practically had to sign my life away. They wanted references and background info and my own freaking pedigree. You’d think they would be glad to unload an animal, but it was worse than wedding vows. I promised to feed him and water him and walk him and vaccinate him until death do us part. Sheesh.

A whole hour’s worth of paperwork and interrogation later, I was the proud owner of one pug. I’d had to purchase a leash and collar there since I hadn’t had the foresight to bring my own, which had shocked the woman. I couldn’t explain that I’d had no idea when I left the house this morning such things would be necessary.

Billy trotted along on the leash, inspecting every pant cuff and curb we passed, lifting a leg to water the ones he found appealing. He had a square body and a massive, comical head. His smushed-up face was black with the biggest, popped-out eyes I’d ever seen on something that wasn’t a squeeze toy. His ears were little velvety flaps.

I gave him a pat. I admit that the ears were quite soft. Maybe a dog wasn’t so bad. He licked my hand frantically. His oversized tongue barely fit into his mouth; mostly it lolled out the side. I wiped my hand on my pants.

Billy seemed thrilled to be on the leash and kept looking up at me like now what? Truthfully, I had no idea. How would I get him home? He was too big to hide in my purse like a Hollywood Chihuahua, and I couldn’t just tuck him under my arm like the old ladies in furs shopping down Hillman Street. He was small enough to be no protection from rapists and muggers, but too big to sneak onto the train. I gave up and called Harry, who grumped and complained and then snickered in disbelief at the idea of me with a dog.

“Just come get me,” I snapped.

It was bitter cold outside the terminal, but I couldn’t go inside anywhere with Billy. Dogs are extremely inconvenient. As I waited, Billy sat there happily blinking. Corinne cooed and baby-talked him. Blech. I would never do such a thing. His curly pigtail wagged in appreciation.

I realized that I had no food and no place to keep a dog that didn’t have thick, soft carpeting just begging to be peed on. I was shivering and pissed by the time Harry finally pulled up in a long white hearse.

“You’re going to ride in that?” Corinne’s eyes were wide.

“Welcome to the family business.” I scooped Billy up. He was surprisingly heavy. “This dog needs a diet,” I said, climbing into the passenger seat.

“No, he doesn’t. He’s perfect,” Corinne said.

“Looks like a ham hock with legs,” Harry said. “What possessed you to get a dog? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Don’t ask,” I said. “Just drive. I’ve got to stash this...I mean, I need to take my new darling home. Unless...I’ll bet you’ve always wanted a doggy.”

“Fat chance. I don’t know why you got the damn thing, but I sure don’t want it. I can’t keep a plant alive. And it’ll cramp my dating style.” He put the car in gear and jolted forward into traffic with barely a glance. Indignant horns sounded behind us.

“I thought you were so lonely and unloved.”

“Met a girl last night at a club.” He winked. “Turns out her roommate is even cuter. They think I’m adorable.”

“Lucky you.” I met a bunch of old ghosts playing cards and killing each other. Then I promised Death to try and help solve a murder.

Billy made little snorking noises with his nose, and he drooled on my leg. He stood with his paws braced on the window. I was glad someone enjoyed the ride. I closed my eyes as the hearse weaved in and out of traffic like Harry was playing Grand Theft Auto.

* * * *

I’m not allowed pets at my apartment, but a furtive look around assured me that the place was deserted. I carried Billy in and deposited him on the floor. He immediately ran the perimeter, sniffing everything and making horrible snuffling and wheezing noises. Snork!

“Does he always sound like that?” I asked.

“It’s something pugs do,” Corinne said. “Isn’t it cute? Aunt Susie breeds pugs, you know. She gave me Billy when I moved here so I wouldn’t be too lonely for home.”

I found the pug’s phlegmy noises less than charming, but I was in too deep now. Billy seemed excessively interested in my sofa.

“Oh no, you don’t!” I nabbed him just as he started to hike his leg. Everywhere I looked in my apartment, I saw lovely things waiting to be destroyed.

Over Corinne's objections, I put Billy in the bathroom and sacrificed a pillow for him to lie on. “Don’t pee on it,” I instructed him. “It’s your bed.”

Afraid to check my watch, I trudged back down to the DART station for the second time that day, wondering if I still had a job. Being a secretary at a successful law firm pays well, and I have gotten very accustomed to my creature comforts. The other secretaries aren’t bad to work with and we go out once a week, sort of a ladies night out, but in a more genteel, fine wine-and-dine sort of way than Harry’s wild nights. My apartment isn’t cheap, either. It’s centrally located near good shopping and restaurants.

But my boss. Ginger “Cruella” Deville is the most self-absorbed, impossibly bitchy boss I’ve ever had. I had the stomach flu last year and missed two days. She called me eight times.

My head was down, braced against the cold. As I withdrew my DART pass, I saw it: something large hunched next to the ticket scanner. It had to be eight feet tall and hairless. The amorphous shape reminded me of a slug. Its head raised, sniffing the air. It turned and looked at me. Its malevolent red eyes caused my heart to race. I knew I was looking on pure evil.

Its lips drew back in a snarl, and it unleashed a frightful howl, then flew right at me. I wanted to run, but I froze. My eyes closed, and my purse slid from my numb fingers. I felt the thing pass me like a cold chill stinking of wet dogs and rotten eggs.

An older gentleman handed me my purse off the ground. “You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. My hands shook so violently it took me three tries to swipe my pass through the scanner.

“You sure you’re okay, miss?” The kind old man was still behind me.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m having a bad day.”

I was so distracted as I sat in the nearly empty car, I almost missed the ghost.

He sat politely across from me with his hat in his hands. I took a moment to register the faint blurring around the edges that marked him as not quite corporeal. I had seen him before. It was the man from the tracks.

“Do you know my mother?” It was a child’s question, but he had to be at least sixty.

“No,” I said softly.

“Excuse me?” The older gentleman had gotten on the car with me.

“Nothing,” I said. “Sorry. Talking to myself.”

When I looked back, the seat across from me was empty.