Chris Redding - Corpse Whisperer

Grace looked out the bedroom window. “Uh, no.”

The bedridden woman laughed. “Please. It’s so obvious. Look, he wants nothing to do with me. Go for it.”

How could someone toss another human being away so easily? As if she were lending out a hat or a book. “It’s not that simple. I have a job to do because you’re in danger. I can’t be distracted by. .” She waved her hands. “Men.”

“Oh, honey. Life is too short not to be distracted by men. I think he feels something for you. The last time the three of us were together, before this miscarriage, he didn’t even see me.”

Grace’s heart leapt in her chest, but her rational side tamped down the enthusiasm. She still hadn’t prevented Dolores’s death.

And until she did, her feeling for Zach, or lust for him, had to wait.

No matter what her wacky visions were telling her.

Zach came to her in a dream that night. He said all the right things. He touched all the right places, but as soon as she was ready to climax she awoke.

“I’ll be disappointed if he’s really that way in bed.” She blew hair out of her face. “Not that I plan on finding out.”

This time she put on clothes before she looked outside.

As she expected, that man stood there. Without turning on any lights she dialed 9-1-1, then Zach. With as much stealth as she could muster she opened her front door, then slipped down the steps to the driveway.

He heart pounded double time, hurting her chest.

The man looked in her direction, then ran into the neighbor’s bushes. The patrol car pulled into the driveway at that moment. The cop had seen the man and took off on foot after him.

Zach raced down the driveway almost running into Grace when a cloud obscured the moon. He grabbed her so she didn’t topple. The kaleidoscope of colors began, while his warmth soothed her. She might pass out. She struggled to get away from his touch.

“You okay?” he asked.

As soon as he let go relief warred with disappointment. She had never wanted anyone to touch her, but been so confused by that same touch. “Yeah, the cop went that way.”

Through the bushes the cop dragged a disgruntled man that Grace recognized.

“Mark?”

“You know this guy?” Zach asked. He stepped closer to her as if marking her as his. Me, Tarzan. This my Jane. It had a distinct appeal to belong to someone, but Grace knew it was only an instinct on Zach’s part. She didn’t think there were any personal feelings behind it. Too bad, in some ways, she thought.

She looked from Mark to Zach. “He’s a friend.”

“Huh? That lurks outside of your apartment?”

Grace shrugged. She had no idea why Mark was there. “What are you doing here?”

“Tell them who I am, Gracie,” Mark said.

“If you tell me why you aren’t in California and why you’re on my driveway.”

“Uh, Long story.”

“I’ll put on some coffee. You can tell us all,” she said.

Zach eyed the rumpled man with coiffed blond hair. No one should spend that much time on their looks. Especially not a guy. Mark sat on Grace’s couch as if he owned it.

Grace gave out coffee all around then sat looking at Mark expectantly.

Zach had convinced the patrolman he could leave. He’d take all responsibility for the prowler.

Grace owed him for this one. She avoided filing police reports as if she were allergic.

Zach stared into his coffee hoping that Mark and Grace weren’t that close. Mark looked at her the way a lover would look at another. His own frown at the idea they were a couple hurt his face.

“So what were you doing lurking outside my apartment?” Grace asked.

“I think I should handle this,” Zach said.

Her glare bounced off of his stone facade. He promised himself he wouldn’t let her bother him tonight. She wouldn’t get past his defenses again. No kissing. “I’m taking responsibility for him. I get to interrogate him.”

“Interrogate?” Mark licked his lips and sat straighter, the belligerence out of his posture.

Zach concealed his delight that he had the young man off balance. “Then talk.” He smiled, knowing he looked like a shark when he did. “Why were you outside Grace’s apartment the last three nights?”

“Three nights? I just got in town,” Mark said. He shifted in his chair, then sipped his coffee. His eyes darted around the room.

“Can you prove that?”

“No, I drove.”

“From California?” Grace’s face registered disbelief. “That takes a few days. I just talked to you.”

“I was on my way here,” he explained.

Something about his story didn’t ring true to Zach, but he resisted the urge to call this guy a liar. Maybe if he could get him alone.

Grace set down her coffee and leaned towards her friend. “Why? And why didn’t you tell me?”

At least she was dressed tonight and Zach couldn’t be distracted by imagining her without her robe. The bulky sweatpants didn’t do anything for her petite figure. The opposite could be said for the midriff-baring white t-shirt. And she hadn’t bothered with a bra.

This was worse than Grace in a robe.

He took a sip of his coffee to cool himself down, or at least distract himself.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Mark’s gaze flicked to Zach then back to Grace. “I wanted to talk about our last conversation. Say it was all okay.”

“But you were on your way before we had the conversation. This doesn’t make sense Mark. You know I’m in the middle of something.”

What was she in the middle of? This thing with Lors? Murder? Zach didn’t want to believe that.

“Why didn’t you knock on the door?” Zach asked.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wake her.”

Reasonable on the surface. The hairs on Zach’s neck still stood in response to this guy. Something was not kosher with him.

After two full days of work and two nights of interrupted sleep, Zach’s fatigue took over. “You going to be okay with this guy, here? I can drive him to a hotel.”

Say, “No.”

Grace nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

Zach rose, put the cup in her sink and left them to whatever they planned to get up to tonight.

Zach’s distrust for Mark propelled him to do some research on him. He sat in his office, his computer screen the only light.

Footsteps clomped down from the apartment above. He braced himself.

Celia wore a bright red sweat suit. Her hair told him she’d been asleep.

“Did I wake you?”

“Not really. I had a dream. Were you in some trouble?”

Zach shook his head and went back to his search. He found out who Mark’s parents were and where they lived. He hoped Celia would just go away.

“I don’t mean any harm,” she said.

He didn’t look at her. “But you always cause it.”

“You’ve always been embarrassed by me.”

He couldn’t deny her accusation. “You wear your ‘gift’ on your sleeve.”

She sat in his chair reserved for clients. “You’d think I wore a turban and told fortunes.”

“That’s about how much people respect what you do.” The pained expression on her face had him wishing he could take back his last statement. “I’m sorry.”

She rose. “You’re not, but I’ll forgive you anyway. That’s what I do.” She walked towards the stairs. “Beware of someone named Mark.”

She disappeared. He only half heard her as he realized where Mark had gone to high school. Even worse, where he’d been a year ago and who had been there, too.

“I came to surprise you for your birthday, Gracie. Is that so odd?”

He sat hunched over a beer at her kitchen table.

“Yes, because you aren’t that sentimental.”