Gina Grant - Esprit de Corpse

With a sense of tragic irony and a more than a little nausea, I drew the stapler out of my pocket and opened the baggie. I expected a waft of rotting brain to hit me, but it merely smelled a bit musty.

Just as Detective Leo had done, I gripped it by the baggie, not because I didn’t want to get Theresa’s fingerprints on it, but because, ewww. I applied just enough pressure to eject a staple partway so that the prongs stuck out like wee silver fangs. Like that day in my office a little over a year ago.

I held out my free hand, surprised to see how much it trembled. I glanced around for Dante, but if he was here in the ladies’ room with me, he wasn’t visible.

“C’mon. What’re you waiting for?” Conrad demanded, his eyes boring into my hand as if he could draw blood that way, his mouth partly open. He panted harshly.

Was that drool?

I could see his demonic countenance overlaying Shannon’s pretty features. If he stayed too long, would her outer self begin to take the shape of his inner demon?

I closed my eyes and slashed the stapler toward my hand. Oh, owww! Burning pain . . . didn’t happen.

I opened my eyes to find I’d missed. Oops.

I tried again, this time peeking through my lashes to guarantee I’d score a hit. And this time, ouch! Two dark red scratches traced across the back of Theresa’s hand. Blood immediately welled up along the cuts.

Holding out the contract, Conrad pointed to a page. “Here. Here.” He flipped to the last page. “And especially here.”

Placing the stapler on the counter, I bled cooperatively in all the right places.

Dante appeared then. Coincidence or had he been watching the whole time?

“Thou must giveth thy document unto me now so that I may registereth it with official channels.” His face screwed up and I could see his lips move while he repeated the sentence to himself. No doubt he was making sure he had all the thees and thous lined up correctly. “No, that’s right. Righteth.” He reached for the contract.

Way to get with the program, Dante! I felt my grip loosening on the grudge I was trying to hold.

Conrad clutched the document to him, unconcerned about getting Theresa’s blood on Shannon’s shirt. “No way. I’m making a copy first.” He produced Theresa’s iPhone and flipped through the icons to get the one he wanted. Then he tried to take a shot of the front page while balancing it on his hand. He mumbled something about the lighting and moved over to the bank of sinks where the fluorescents shone unflattering light down upon us.

The little recorded click sounded. He flipped the page. Click. Flip. Click. He turned to the signature page, photographed it and hit more keys.

“There. I’ve sent those photos to my private email account. Now you can take it.”

He held it out to Dante.

Dante closed his fingers around it, but as soon as Conrad let go, it drifted to the bathroom floor. Drifted right through Dante’s fingers!

“Goddamn it! Pick that up!” Conrad roared at Dante, who began the crackle and fade in and out. Then in. Then out completely. Almost completely. If I unfocussed my eyes, I could see static where he’d been. It was like on the Starship Enterprise when the transporter beam is taxed to extreme. We must have been away from Hell so long he was losing his ability to manifest at all.

Conrad cursed again and bent down to pick the contract amendment off the floor. “Here.” He thrust it at me. “You take it to Hell then. See you in twenty-five years.” He picked up his purse and took a step toward the door.

I grabbed his arm, dropping the contract back on the counter. “Wait. You have to give Shannon back her body. You saw what rough shape Dante was in. Shannon’s barely hanging on by a thread.” I didn’t need to see her—or in this case, to not be able to see her—to know this for fact.

Conrad rounded on me, his cold gaze on my fingers until I released his arm. Then he raised his eyes to meet mine and I wished he’d look away again. It was awful. It barely resembled Shannon’s face any more. I’d had some vague hope that some of Shannon’s goodness would infect Conrad, but instead, it looked like Conrad’s evil was overriding everything that had made Shannon who she was.

“You silly bitch.” Conrad took a moment to laugh before continuing. “I never had any intention of giving up this body. You believed I was bargaining in good faith? Have you met me? I was a son of a bitch long before I became an evil demon.” He laughed again.

“But Conrad. Your daughter is fading. Not just dying—it’ll be like she never existed at all. You cared for her once. Made your original Deal so she would live. Can’t you care again? You can have this body. Nobody’s using it. It’s available wholesale.”

“Whaddya mean nobody’s using it?” He got all up in my face, little pig eyes narrowing with hatred and suspicion. “You mean there wasn’t a soul to trade in the first place? You tried to trick me ?” He raised his hand to strike me. Unlike last time he’d raised his hand to me and I’d cowered like the frightened orphan I’d once been, this time I stood my ground, raising my fists, ready to defend myself. I wasn’t the same starry-eyed junior account exec I’d been a year ago.

For one thing, I was dead.

Conrad faked a left, but before he could really strike me, the bathroom door burst open and Maddy Stryker strode in. Faster than I could process her arrival, she registered Conrad and me. Spinning back toward the door, she shoved her guard into the hallway. Then she pulled the door shut and turned the lock. Almost immediately, the guard began to pound on the door, yelling for Maddy to open up.

Why would a bathroom in the city courthouse have a dead bolt? Maybe so officials and citizens could barricade themselves inside in the event of an uprising? Somehow the scene we were in now—trapped with a crazy prisoner—seemed more likely. Guess the building planners hadn’t thought of that.

“Now.” Maddy turned to us, back pressed against the locked door, a grim smile on her face. She rubbed her hands together, but skipped the bwa-ha-ha! laugh. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to me.”

“Done to you?” I rasped, my fingers flying to the bruises on Theresa’s throat.

Conrad took a step behind me, saying, “Now let’s talk about this, shall we? I’m a very rich man, er, woman. I can make it worth your while.”

“No, you’re going to pay! It’s because of you I got twenty-five years. They didn’t even go to trial, just condemned me right there on the spot.”

I’d heard on the news that the courts were exploring alternatives to deliver speedier justice, but waiving a trial?

Maddy took a menacing step toward us.

“Are you sure that’s what happened, Maddy?” I raised my hands in a calm-down gesture. “This was only supposed to be a preliminary hearing.”

“They said they had so much evidence they could convict on the spot. Which is fucking bullshit. They don’t know half the people I’ve strangled!”

My head spun at her twisted logic.

Still cowering behind me, Conrad asked, “Did you, by any chance, tell them about these multiple murders during the pretrial?”

“Of course I did! I want full credit! I want my day in court. I want to be famous! Not treated like some sort of criminal.”

“But you are some sort of . . .” I began, stalling while I figured out the best way to negotiate with this crazy woman.

Suddenly Conrad grabbed my arm and thrust me forward. “Take her.” I should have expected a repeat performance of the day I was wrongly reaped. At least it was a women’s bathroom this time.