Page 27 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

Dusty nods. “That’s what I’m hoping. He says he saw the light, which means he’s not tied here by unfinished business.”

I nod. “Thanks, Dusty.”

“Of course.” She winks. “I am your spirit guide, after all, and right now I’m guiding you to take a shower and start packing for your romantic weekend away with your hot boyfriend.”

She seems entirely too gleeful about that prospect, but I decide not to ask. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.

“Right.” She turns to Terry. “I’m going to take you somewhere we can get you some help, but I warn you, this is my favourite wig. If you shock me and make even one hair stand out of place, I am going to rip each and every appendage from your body, starting with your balls. Capeesh?”

Terry nods rapidly, his eyes wide, and the next second they’re gone.

“They’ve left,” I tell Danny, and we both look up at the scorch mark on the wall.

“I’m beginning to think you’ve got a point about the damage deposit,” Danny mutters.

7

Iopen the door to the flat and stare at the man standing on my doorstep. He’s tall and slim, dressed in ripped skinny jeans and black leather boots that lace up his calves and are decorated with metal studs. His well-worn T-shirt has a faded Metallica logo on the front, and over it is a heavy black military jacket. I raise my gaze to his face, which looks vaguely familiar—clean-shaven and thin, with dark brown eyes that match his brown hair.

I watch as he raises a vape to his mouth, filling the air with the scent of bubblegum, and my mouth falls open in recognition. Snorting aloud at my obvious epiphany, he saunters past me into the flat.

“Close your mouth, Tristan, or you’ll catch stray dicks.” He smirks.

“Brandy?” I say in surprise, closing the door behind him. “Wait, isn’t the phrase catching flies?”

“Is it?” He raises one brow. “You’re looking very surprised to see me, Tris, considering you’re the one who called me to come over.”

“I know.” I shake my head. “Sorry, I just… This is the first time I’ve seen you out of drag.”

“It’s Tom, by the way,” he says.

“Tom.” I smile. “Sorry about calling you over on such short notice. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. I wasn’t doing much but watching Ari snore in his recliner after eating himself into a food coma.” He rolls his eyes. “Now where is my handsome little prince?”

He croons the last part in a loud singsong voice and turns to look around. With perfect timing, Jacob Marley struts around the corner as if sensing Tom’s presence. He looks up at Tom coquettishly.

“There’s my gorgeous boy,” Tom exclaims loudly and swoops down to scoop my overweight cat into his arms. “Who’s my precious little pudding?” He cradles Jacob Marley, rocking slowly as he makes kissy faces at him. Jacob Marley stares up at Tom in complete adoration, mewling like a kitten, and preens under his attention.

“Is that Brandy?” Danny asks as he emerges from the kitchen and stops abruptly at the sight that greets him.

“Tom,” I tell Danny, who, like me, has never met Brandy outside of drag before.

“Hey, Tom.” Danny nods. “I like your shirt. I love band T-shirts, but Tristan keeps stealing them all to sleep in.”

“If he’s not sleeping naked, you’re clearly doing something wrong,” Tom snorts. “What are you wearing those for?” he asks, glancing down at the heavily padded oven mitts on Danny’s hands.

“Because of this.” He reaches into the hallway cupboard and brings out the pet carrier, then unzips the opening and sucks in a breath as if bracing himself to do battle. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Tom smirks. “And you lot call me the drama queen.”

With one hand, he takes the carrier from Danny and sets it on the floor before looking down at Jacob Marley still cradled contentedly in his other arm like a really chubby baby. “Are you ready to blow this joint?” he asks and Jacob Marley meows an answer. “Want me to take you to breakfast at the little café down the High Street?” Jacob Marley mewls again. “Shall we get you some milk? You’re so neglected here, aren’t you, my poor little prince?” Jacob Marley gives one last mournful yowl of agreement as if he isn’t spoiled rotten and doesn’t rule this flat like his own private kingdom.

I watch as Tom sets him on the floor beside the pet carrier that Danny and I always seem to lose layers of skin over whenever we try to get him in it.

“In you go then, darling,” Tom croons to him.

Jacob Marley stares at Danny and then turns around and lifts his tail. He saunters over regally and without so much as one single complaint steps inside and curls up, purring.