Death Times Two(5)

Jon walks to the fireplace, taking a deep sniff of air. “Nothing here, man.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “Are you sure she’s telling the truth?”
Lisa glares at him and the fire I saw earlier returns. “Now why the hell would I lie, jackass? What do I have to gain?” She shakes her head, disbelief and annoyance clear on her face. “Typical guy. You can’t see it or understand it, so it must be a lie.” She settles back against the couch. “Reminds me of my partner, Nate.”
Jon’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead and he opens his mouth to retaliate. I shake my head once. It’s not worth it. It’s unclear how much she knows about us or how much she’s likely to believe. But Vivian said she was here to do a job and we needed to support her. That’s what I damn well will do.
I reach for my travel mug filled with bloodcoffee, using the cup as a prop for casual intro to conversation. “So… how long have you seen dead people?”
Lisa barks out a laugh. “Cute. Haven’t heard that line outside of a movie.”
“Okay,” Jon announces. “I’m out of here. It’s your turn to handle the weirdness. Call me if you need me.” The temperamental werewolf strides across the lobby and disappears into the dining area. He’s temporarily moved into Rafe and Vivian’s apartment while they’re tying up loose ends in Argentina.
It’s been a long summer so far and I can’t wait for the vampire master and her husband to come home. Their arrival will signify a return to normalcy as well as the beginning of fall at our remote resort. Personally, avoiding the sun and traveling through the tunnels gets old.
“All kidding aside,” I say to Lisa. “I’m serious. I never knew there were reapers in the world.”
“Isn’t there an old saying about what man doesn’t know about his world could fill the largest library ten times over?”
I shrug. “No idea. Sounds about right, though. Are you going to answer me about how long you’ve seen ghosts? I am truly curious.”
Lisa glances into my eyes, uncertainty showing in the dazzling blue depths. “Normally I can’t discuss that.” She hesitates, but apparently sees something in me that encourages her to go on. “I guess I was born with the trait. Another reaper died, my husband as a matter of fact, and I kind of fell into the job. It certainly wasn’t my choice. Then I found out I’d be reaping stupid people. So really not my choice.”
I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. “Fascinating. And what does ‘reaping’ entail?”
“Well, it depends on the soul. People who die in violent ways are more resistant than happy souls. Sometimes I have to chase them down. Sometimes they go to the afterlife willingly.”
 “So there is an afterlife? I’ve always wondered.”
“Er… um… yeah. There is. But I really don’t know much about it. I make a point of not getting too close to my porter. He has a tendency to take anybody who gets within reach on a joyride to Hell.” She nervously looks around the lobby. “Why is it so dark in here? And you didn’t cover who actually did the killing of those ghosts I spotted.”
I stand and motion to the front desk, where Tommy is on duty. “Why don’t we get you checked into a room? Neither of those questions has a quick answer.”
Lisa follows me and listens quietly to Tommy’s directions on where her room is and on some of the inn’s facilities. Thankfully he catches himself and doesn’t mention the protocols on blood  donors and the sex-toy basket our paying guests normally receive.
Jon had carried in Lisa’s bag, so once she’s handed her room key card I grab the luggage and lead the way upstairs.
“Wow,” Lisa says, eyeing the floor to ceiling book cases encircling the landings that overlook the lobby. “Someone sure likes to read.”
“The owners collect first edition books. Sure fills up the time during the long Alaskan winter.”
A tense laugh escapes her. “I prefer indoor target shooting with a .22 pistol. Especially under the influence of alcohol—it’s good for a laugh.”
Her words sink in and I glance over my shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
We arrive at the top and she shrugs. “Only if you’re stupid.”
I escort her to the largest suite on the second floor, room three. The inn is dead this week—no pun intended. Our busy time is winter and after the botched first attempt of a werewolf hunt earlier this summer, we’ve reverted to the normal off-season skeleton staff of thirty. Less people around should make it easy for Lisa to do her ghost-hunting task.