Page 72 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes

We all turn to find Death standing calmly next to the TV across the room.

“YOU!” Chan’s eyes flash treacherously. “You’re the one who’s been leaving all this stuff?”

“They’re gifts,” he replies as if he doesn’t understand what the problem is. “Is it not how you mortals demonstrate your regard?”

“Not with grand larceny, no,” Chan answers in complete disbelief. “You could’ve just got me a box of Maltesers and a Pandora gift card.”

Death’s eyes flick to the painting. “I always liked this painting, even if Guido was an insufferable bore.”

She stares at him. “You knew the artist of this three-hundred-year-old painting?”

“I’m far older than that,” he answers easily.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Chan waves her hand and rolls her eyes. “You’ve spent forever, like, collecting people’s souls or whatever.”

“I reap souls, I don’t collect them,” he corrects without a hint of offense. “But that’s not all I do. I’ve always enjoyed watching mortal history unfold.” He crosses the room until he stands in front of Chan, leaning in but not crowding her space. “I’ve seen things you couldn’t possibly imagine. I witnessed the destruction of Pompeii, saw the great fire reduce London to ash. I stood within the walls of Constantinople at the fall of the Byzantine Empire… actually, that was a very busy day for me.”

“I’m sensing a theme here.” Chan stares up into his eyes and taps her foot impatiently. “One that still doesn’t explain why all this old stuff is currently in my living room.”

“Because you are the first to interest me in eons,” he says, frowning. “I wanted to gift you items that were worthy of you. They are priceless beyond human comprehension and filled with ancient magic.”

“Oh,” Chan replies in surprise, her features softening slightly as she studies him, her perfectly painted lips pursing in consideration. “You do know I’m a boy in a dress?”

“ClassicTo Wong Foo,” Dusty whispers beside me.

“What’s a Wong Foo?” Death turns to Dusty with a frown.

Dusty opens her mouth, but I shoot her a look. “No,” I mouth.

Chan snaps her fingers to draw Death’s attention back to her. “Death, focus please.” She watches him speculatively when he complies. “What do you want from me?” she asks curiously.

“I would have thought that obvious. I want to engage in a mutually enjoyable outing where we can interact in a pleasant manner.”

She blinks slowly three times. “You… want to take me on… a date?”

“Is that not a mortal custom?” he replies, bewildered.

“Um, Chan?” I give a little wave to get her attention. “A word, please.”

Her eyes remain on Death for a few more seconds, her expression unreadable, before she turns and sashays her way over to me and Harrison. The three of us lean in together in a kind of mini rugby huddle.

“Before you answer,” I whisper to Chan, aware that Dusty is right next to me, “uh, maybe you could consider going on a date with him.”

“What?” Dusty hisses but I ignore her.

“It’s just that this is the perfect opportunity. He seems uncharacteristically chatty with you. Whenever I ask him a question, he flat-out avoids answering, but maybe this is a chance to get some information from him.”

“Oh. My. God.” Chan bites off each word with a sarcastic undercurrent. “Did you seriously just ask me to. Take. One. For. The. Team?”

“Um…yes?”

She narrows her eyes. “You want me to go on a date? With Death?”

“No?” I wince. “Maybe… just... just think about it, okay? We could use all the help we can get right now.”

“What, like a spy? A femme fatalé?” she muses. “I can work with that.”

“No,” I sigh. “I just thought…” I shrug. “Never mind, you don’t have to.”