I’d stood there for a solid fifteen minutes after the other girls left, after he left, barely breathing, unable to move until Mrs. Worthy busted me for skipping and sent me to the office.

He was basically dark and creepy and just sort of showed up in my life every so often to impart some juicy tidbit of afterlife wisdom—and scare the bejesus out of me—only to leave me quaking in the wake of his visit. At least I was a bright and shiny grim reaper. He was dark and dangerous, and death seemed to waft off him like smoke off dry ice. When I was a child, I decided to name him something ordinary, something nonthreatening, but Fluffy just didn’t fit. Eventually, he was christened the Big Bad.

“Ms. Davidson,” Elizabeth said, sitting beside me.

I blinked and glanced around. “Did you just see someone?”

She scanned the area as well. “I don’t think so.”

“A blur? Kind of dark and … blurry?”

“Um, nope.”

“Oh, okay, sorry. What’s up?”

“I can’t have my nieces and nephew wake up to my body. I’m right under their windows.”

I’d thought of that, too. “You’re right,” I said. “Maybe we should break the news to your sister.”

She nodded sadly. I called Garrett over, and we agreed for me and the cop to ring the doorbell and give Elizabeth’s sister the news. Maybe Elizabeth could help me with what to say. Her presence might make the whole thing easier on us all. At least I’d thought so.

An hour later, I was in my uncle’s SUV, breathing into a paper bag.

“You should have waited for me,” he said really helpfully.

Never again. Obviously there were siblings out there who actually liked each other. Who knew? The woman had an emotional breakdown in my arms. What seemed to upset her most was the fact that Elizabeth had been outside her house all night and she hadn’t known. I might should’ve left that part out. The woman grabbed my shoulders, her fingernails digging into my skin, her morning hair, a cross between disco and crack addict, shaking in denial; then she crumpled to the floor and sobbed. Most definitely an emotional breakdown.

The bad part came when I crumpled to the floor and sobbed with her. Dead people I could handle. They were usually beyond hysteria. This was the people-left-behind part. The hard part. We hugged each other a long time until Uncle Bob arrived on-scene and dragged me off her. Elizabeth’s brother-in-law got the kids ready, and they all went out a side door and loaded up the car for a trip to Grandma’s house. All in all, they were a very loving family.

“Slow down,” Uncle Bob said as I panted into the bag. “If you hyperventilate and pass out, I’m not catching you. I injured my shoulder playing golf the other day.”

My family was so caring. I tried to slow my breathing, but I just kept thinking about that poor woman losing her sister, her best friend, her comadre. What would she do now? How would she go on? Where would she find the will to survive? I started crying again, and Uncle Bob gave up and left me alone in his SUV.

“She’ll be okay, hon.”

I looked in the rearview mirror at Elizabeth and sniffed.

“She’s tough,” she added.

I could tell she was shaken up, and I probably wasn’t helping.

I sniffed again. “I’m sorry. I should never have gone in there.”

“No, I appreciate you being there for my sister instead of a bunch of male cops. Sometimes guys just don’t get it.”

I glanced over at Garrett as he talked to Uncle Bob, shook his head, then leveled an expressionless gaze directly on me. “No, I guess they don’t.”

* * *

I needed to get the heck outta Dodge—and how—but Elizabeth wanted to go to her mother’s to check on things. We made plans to meet up at my office later; then I asked another officer to drive me back to my Jeep.

The ride was calming. People were just getting out, heading to work. The sun, still looming over the horizon, cast a soft glow on the crisp morning, suffusing Albuquerque with the prospect of a fresh start. Pueblo-style houses with neat lawns slid past us and broke away to a business district with new and old buildings covering every available inch.

“So, are you feeling better, Ms. Davidson?”

I peered at Officer Taft. He was one of those young cops trying to get in good with my uncle, so he agreed to give me a ride, thinking it might boost his career. I wondered if he knew he had a dead child in his backseat. Probably not.

“Much better, thank you.”

He smiled. Having asked the requisite question of concern, he could now ignore me.

While I normally don’t mind being ignored, I did want to ask him about the tiny blonde, who looked to be about nine years old, gazing starry-eyed like he’d just saved the earth from total destruction. But this line of questioning took tact. Skill. Subtlety.

“So, are you the officer who had a young girl die in his squad car recently?”

“Me?” he asked in surprise. “No. At least I hope not.” He chuckled.

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he thought about what I’d said. “I haven’t heard that. Did someone—?”

“Oh, just a rumor, you know.” Officer Taft had probably heard all about me from the other kids on the playground. Recess could be such a gossip den. Clearly he wanted to keep the conversation to a minimum. But my curiosity got the better of me. “So, did you have a young girl close to you die recently? Something in a blond?”