Along Came a Demon Read Free

the tub and tried to haul myself up, and he touched me on the forehead. I barely felt it. But then it was like a … a jolt through my body. It took my breath away. I went under the water, just for a second, came back up and I still couldn’t breathe. That’s all I remember till I woke again.”
    I stepped closer. “What do you recall next?”
    Her eyes slid away as she concentrated on a memory which could already be fading. “People there. Police. In the bathroom.” Her gaze darted back to me and her tone turned indignant. “It was so embarrassing! One of the officers picked up my thong and said he wondered if his girlfriend would like one. The detective said he’d get one for his wife, but it would cut off her circulation - not that it would matter because her crotch atrophied years ago. I was stark naked in my bathtub and they joked about my underwear! And then the other officer said he’d heard on good authority if you - “
    I cut in. I didn’t need that much information. I kept my voice and expression neutral, although I wanted to grin at the mental picture her words evoked. “Making jokes at a crime scene is a coping mechanism. A kind of barrier they put between them and the reality of what they see and have to deal with. Your underwear was an excuse, a distraction if you like.”
    She stared at the ground and I hoped she hadn’t lost her train of thought. But she continued: “I tried to cover myself with my hands as I got out of the tub. I yelled at them, but they took no notice, as if they didn’t hear me. I tried to wrap a towel around but I couldn’t seem to pick it up. I was … I froze. I couldn’t understand what was happening. And then… .”
    She brought her hands up to cover her eyes.
    After talking to so many dead people, you would think I’d become hardened to it, but although I learned to keep my feelings to myself, their sad stories still get to me. After a while they come to terms with what happened to them, and become resigned - although I did meet a couple with a serious case of self-denial. But people like Lindy who have only just passed over - I feel so damned awful for them, for what they go through, not only losing their lives, but the frustration, disbelief and fear they experience as they come to realize they are no longer among the living.
    She dropped her hands and looked me in the eyes. “They were talking about the dead woman in the tub and I realized they meant me.
    “ They left after a while, taking me with them. I mean … I watched them take my body, but I was still there! Then I was all alone. And then I remembered you. So I came to see you.”
    “ How did you manage that, Lindy?”
    “ I walked here. It isn’t far. Although it did seem to take a real long time.”
    Two days. She took two days to reach me.
    I didn’t explain how her leaving the apartment was, as far as I knew, an oddity. “I’ll see what I can do. But it could take time and I can’t have you waiting in my yard.”
    “ I won’t be a bother,” she said quickly.
    I had to be blunt. “Well, you are a bother when every time I look out of the window see you staring in.”
    She glanced at the yard. “I don’t want to go back to the apartment. Can I stay here if I keep out of your way? If I keep out of sight?”
    I closed my eyes and puffed out a quick breath. I didn’t want her here, but I couldn’t make her leave if she didn’t want to. Compromise would work better.
    The rest of the lot stretches behind the house. I have an honest-to-god orchard back there with a pear, a couple of plums, a Bing cherry and four apple trees. Grapevines smother the back wall. The harvest is nothing special as the high altitude means a short growing season, but my neighbors are glad to come in and pick their own, and in return I get a few jams, jellies and relishes. Hoping Lindy could follow, I walked toward the orchard. “Why don’t you hang out with the apple trees for now? But when I find your son, I want you