now.”
Dante’s outlined blurred again, the light surrounding him faded and he was once again invisible to mortals.
He walked over to where I waited with Shannon. “Perhaps Conrad will see reason and agree to vacate your body in the morning.” The last thing Dante sounded was hopeful.
“I don’t think so, Dante,” Shannon whispered. “But thanks for trying.”
“We should go now, then, to Hell and see what the—”
“No,” I cut in. “We’re going to see this through.” When Dante put his hands on his hips and looked prepared to argue, I went another direction. “Look, Dante. What’s another day or two? How long can a murder trial last?” I realized this wasn’t making points in my favor and moved on quickly. “Let’s see what the outcome of the preliminary hearing is first. We can always go to Hell afterwards.”
Dante began to argue, but Shannon laid her hand on his arm. “I agree with Kirsty. Please let’s see this through.”
Dante ceased his protests, but I didn’t get the impression Shannon and I had won him over.
“Look, Dante. They’ve only got circumstantial evidence—the stapler that’s been the cause of all this trouble. And now the digital file of Shannon saying she wished me dead.”
Realizing what I’d just said, I looked away.
“What do you mean? I never wished you dead.”
“On the phone, yesterday morning. You said you felt like it was you in the coma and that you wished I’d either wake up or die.” By the end of that sentence, I’d gone from reluctant to share to angry at her for feeling that my tragedy was an imposition, then feeling betrayed and sad that she’d wished me dead.
“Oh, Kirsty. I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean it that way.” Shannon held out her arms. Now I got the hug I’d craved earlier. We clutched each other for long moments. “I really wished you’d wake up, Kirsty. I really did. I’ve missed you so much.”
I nodded, stepping out of the circle of her arms. She felt a little insubstantial. Like being hugged by the Michelin Man when he needed his pressure checked. I could see the light shining behind her—right through her. We’d better hurry up and get her back into her body.
Dante must have arrived at the same conclusion. He’d stood by quietly while Shannon and I worked out our issues with hugs and soft words. Now he coughed and gestured for me to continue with my thoughts on the case. Where was I? Oh, right. The recording. “So Frannie, dedicated employee that she is, recorded your side of the telephone conversation and then played it back for the police. By now, it will have been copied and emailed all over the place so there’s no point in stealing Frannie’s iPhone, but the stapler . . . The stapler is the key piece of evidence and you should go and get that.”
Dante stared at the ground and rubbed his chin. “Look, Kirsty. I know you mean well, but I think we’re going down the wrong path. I need to report our progress to Colin and see what he has to say. He may decide we should wait or maybe we should file a Wrongful Termination Appeal. This was supposed to be a straightforward capture and release into Hell and it’s gotten way out of hand. Shannon, I’m sorry but I need to take you to Hell now.”
He reached for Shannon’s hand again—like he hadn’t been holding it enough lately.
My turn now. I grabbed her other hand and jerked her toward me, right out of Dante’s grasp. I shouted nearly the same words I had the day of my own scything, “Hell, no. We won’t go!” I thrust Shannon behind me. “By all means, Dante. You go. Report in to Sergeant Schotz. Then come back to us. But you know Hell. Easy to get into, but really hard to get back out again. Plus you can’t teleport her with her body still alive, so we’d have to walk. And that means we’d have to encounter the . . .” I lowered my voice and hissed, “Gee-gnomes. What if she gets stung? Then what?”
Shannon hissed in a sharp
Dante’s outlined blurred again, the light surrounding him faded and he was once again invisible to mortals.
He walked over to where I waited with Shannon. “Perhaps Conrad will see reason and agree to vacate your body in the morning.” The last thing Dante sounded was hopeful.
“I don’t think so, Dante,” Shannon whispered. “But thanks for trying.”
“We should go now, then, to Hell and see what the—”
“No,” I cut in. “We’re going to see this through.” When Dante put his hands on his hips and looked prepared to argue, I went another direction. “Look, Dante. What’s another day or two? How long can a murder trial last?” I realized this wasn’t making points in my favor and moved on quickly. “Let’s see what the outcome of the preliminary hearing is first. We can always go to Hell afterwards.”
Dante began to argue, but Shannon laid her hand on his arm. “I agree with Kirsty. Please let’s see this through.”
Dante ceased his protests, but I didn’t get the impression Shannon and I had won him over.
“Look, Dante. They’ve only got circumstantial evidence—the stapler that’s been the cause of all this trouble. And now the digital file of Shannon saying she wished me dead.”
Realizing what I’d just said, I looked away.
“What do you mean? I never wished you dead.”
“On the phone, yesterday morning. You said you felt like it was you in the coma and that you wished I’d either wake up or die.” By the end of that sentence, I’d gone from reluctant to share to angry at her for feeling that my tragedy was an imposition, then feeling betrayed and sad that she’d wished me dead.
“Oh, Kirsty. I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t mean it that way.” Shannon held out her arms. Now I got the hug I’d craved earlier. We clutched each other for long moments. “I really wished you’d wake up, Kirsty. I really did. I’ve missed you so much.”
I nodded, stepping out of the circle of her arms. She felt a little insubstantial. Like being hugged by the Michelin Man when he needed his pressure checked. I could see the light shining behind her—right through her. We’d better hurry up and get her back into her body.
Dante must have arrived at the same conclusion. He’d stood by quietly while Shannon and I worked out our issues with hugs and soft words. Now he coughed and gestured for me to continue with my thoughts on the case. Where was I? Oh, right. The recording. “So Frannie, dedicated employee that she is, recorded your side of the telephone conversation and then played it back for the police. By now, it will have been copied and emailed all over the place so there’s no point in stealing Frannie’s iPhone, but the stapler . . . The stapler is the key piece of evidence and you should go and get that.”
Dante stared at the ground and rubbed his chin. “Look, Kirsty. I know you mean well, but I think we’re going down the wrong path. I need to report our progress to Colin and see what he has to say. He may decide we should wait or maybe we should file a Wrongful Termination Appeal. This was supposed to be a straightforward capture and release into Hell and it’s gotten way out of hand. Shannon, I’m sorry but I need to take you to Hell now.”
He reached for Shannon’s hand again—like he hadn’t been holding it enough lately.
My turn now. I grabbed her other hand and jerked her toward me, right out of Dante’s grasp. I shouted nearly the same words I had the day of my own scything, “Hell, no. We won’t go!” I thrust Shannon behind me. “By all means, Dante. You go. Report in to Sergeant Schotz. Then come back to us. But you know Hell. Easy to get into, but really hard to get back out again. Plus you can’t teleport her with her body still alive, so we’d have to walk. And that means we’d have to encounter the . . .” I lowered my voice and hissed, “Gee-gnomes. What if she gets stung? Then what?”
Shannon hissed in a sharp
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