Page 41 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

There’s a quiet knock at the door and as we turn towards it, we see Tris push it open and stick his head through the gap. His eyes skim over me and Maddie before landing on the dartboard and the almost-shredded picture of Byrnes. Three of the six darts are planted dead centre between his eyes.

“It’s an improvement.” He grins and nods at the picture.

“Thanks,” Maddie says sincerely. “That’s the third copy of that photo. I practiced…a lot.”

Tris chuckles and shakes his head. “Sonia says if you’re done sulking, dinner’s ready.”

Maddie sighs and pushes herself up from her perch on the edge of the desk, collecting our two empty bottles as she does so. “I guess I should go and apologise to my wife for being so grumpy.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug as I rise from the sofa and follow both her and Tris from the room. “After well over a decade married to you, I’m pretty sure she’s used to it.”

9

“They’re punishing me, I know it,” Dusty bemoans from the counter across from me where she sits with her arms crossed and her legs swinging back and forth.

I stare up at her. “I’m sure they’re not.” I shake my head and resume my task of tucking the bagged organs into the body cavity of a Mr Randolph Endecott.

“They are too,” she replies with a sullen pout.

“Dusty,” I sigh as I pick up my needle and tweezers to begin stitching. “You’ve been dead for what? A year and a half? Not even that. I’m pretty sure it takes longer than fourteen months to become a full-fledged spirit guide. I mean, aren’t things like that supposed to take, I don’t know, decades? Centuries, even?”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re talking to the person who learned the Shirley Bassey number in under twenty minutes and let me tell you, those high kicks were no joke. I nailed the lyrics to Rihanna’sShut up and Driveon the second listen. It only took me a month to perfect the hardest move on a pole—and I mean, as in pole dancing. Get your mind out of the gutter, thank you very much,” she adds when I smirk. “My point is that you are looking at one of the original overachievers. I should bea full-on spirit guide by now. I’m telling you, they are punishing me.”

“And what are they punishing you for?” I ask absently as I concentrate on making neat, uniform stitches along the incision running the length of Mr Endecott’s torso.

“Do you need a list?” She begins to tick items off on her fingers. “Firstly, I bullied Gabriel into giving me this gig in the first place and refused to take no for an answer. I threw a wild party in heaven and got smashed out of my face with Freddie, ended up in the Land of the Dead with Bruce, and his whole family caught me giving him a blow job. Not to mention the whole body-swap fiasco when I commandeered your earthly form, took it for a joyride, and got stuck in it. Then, when they tried to send me on an accidental possession awareness safety course, I climbed out of the window after five minutes… I could go on.”

“Probably best if you don’t.” I chuckle. “Does it even matter if you’re a full-on spirit guide and not just a trainee?”

“Uh, did you miss the whole overachiever speech?” She waves her hand dramatically. “Yeah, it matters.”

I finish closing the incision and snip the thread, placing my tools down on the tray before looking back at her. “What’s really bothering you, Dusty?”

She stares at me, blinking those incredibly long false eyelashes.

“The truth,” I say firmly. “You think I don’t know when something’s upsetting you? You’re not nearly as shallow as you pretend to be.”

She stares at me for several long, silent seconds before blowing out a resigned breath.

“What if they think I’m not good enough?” she says quietly. “What if Iamnot good enough?”

“Are you crazy? What does it matter what they say anyway? Who’s the person who saved me and Chan from a gun-toting serial killer with the aim of an imperial stormtrooper? Who was the person who jumped into my body to save me from a bunch of potentially murderous octogenarians? Huh?” I prompt. She rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth curve anyway. “Who was the person who faced down a chaos monster trying to get through a magic doorway, all while wearing a spangly Princess Leia bikini and five-inch heels? Who went to heaven and the first day she was there ended up partying with famous celebrities? Who went to the Tierra de la Muerte and made Bruce’s entire family fall in love with her, even his abuela who, I have it on good authority, is a tough nut to crack. And…andwho was it who was prepared to selflessly give up the man she loves when she thought he was still in love with his ex?” She stares at me. “You’re DustyfuckingLe Frey. You don’t need anyone to validate you. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Aw, Tris,” she whispers and I see her eyes mist with a fine sheen of tears.

“My life is complete insanity most days. I’ve seen shit that I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams, but from the moment you were wheeled through those doors”—I point at said doors—“my life altered irrevocably, and you know what? I wouldn’t change a single thing. Because if I did, I wouldn’t have you, and Danny, or Chan, or Sam, even our prickly little Harrison. I have an incredible life because ofyou.” My voice softens as I gaze at her. “Don’teverfeel like you’re not enough.”

“Tris.” She swallows and looks down at the toes of her bright orange platforms. “I’m scared.” Her admission is so quiet that I almost miss it.

“Of what?” I tilt my head as I study her and suddenly I understand. “It’s Viv, isn’t it?” I know my guess is right when shelooks up and her brown eyes lock on me. “What happened to her really threw you, didn’t it?”

“She’s just…” Dusty shakes her head, trying to find the words to articulate her clearly troubled thoughts. “Bruce and I can’t do anything for her, we can’t help her. She just appears at random for short snatches of time before disappearing again. I don’t even know if she’s aware of us, but sometimes…”

“What?”

“Sometimes, I get the feeling she’s screaming on the inside but she can’t let it out, she can’t show it. She’s trapped and… and I think she’s in pain. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a spirit guide in training and I’m technically classed as a higher being rather than an earthbound spirit, but sometimes I get—like, I can sense how other spirits are feeling. Like a… what do you call it…”

I take a guess. “An empath?”