Free Final Words by Teri Thackston

not hang around after their bodies
expired. They did not appear to the living. They went on to…to…
    Emma wasn’t sure where they went. Heaven. Hell. Some kind of
metaphysical limbo reached via a warm golden tunnel. Or maybe the dying just
dreamed themselves into oblivion.
    It didn’t matter. She had imagined Amalia Campanero’s spirit
because she was stressed. She should accept that fact, move forward with her
work and be grateful that she had no post mortems scheduled for the rest of the
day.
    She’d hoped that sitting on the sidelines for a couple of
days, doing paperwork, would help her forget what had happened on Wednesday.
But the image of Amalia Campanero continued to taunt her.
    A chill shuddered through her. Opening her eyes, she sat
forward. “Get a grip,” she muttered and reached for the next page of the
report.
    A shadow fell over her desk. “Talking to yourself?”
    Emma looked up with a start. “Alan!”
    Her ex-husband smiled at her from the other side of her
desk. “Hello, Emma.”
    Rising, she clutched her hands over her stomach and tried to
calm her racing heart. She hadn’t seen Alan in months and certainly hadn’t expected
to experience this rush of emotion at seeing him again. But she was fragile
now, a victim of her own imagination and he’d always had the power to quicken
her pulse with his shimmering blue eyes and lean runner’s body. The fact that
she was already halfway to Nervous, USA only strengthened his effect today.
    “I had business in town,” he said. “I wanted to know how you
were so I thought I’d see if you’re free for dinner.”
    She forced her fingers to untwine, then reached out to close
the folder that lay open on her desk. Temptation teased her but she resisted. “I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    “Why not?” He stepped closer to the desk, bringing a scent
of spicy cologne with him. A lock of his blond hair fell forward over his
forehead. “Two old friends? What’s wrong with that?”
    “We’re divorced, Alan, because you cheated on me.” Picking
up the folder, she held it in front of her thrumming heart like a shield. She
tried to remember how easily he had manipulated her emotions before. “I’d say
there was everything wrong with us having dinner together. And how did you get
up here anyway?”
    He lifted a visitor’s card key. “Your receptionist gave this
to me when I told her I was your husband.”
    Emma frowned. “ Ex -husband. I’ll make a note to let
the receptionist know that additional piece of information.”
    Alan perched on a corner of her desk, his eyes glimmering
beneath pale lashes. He was apparently unaffected by the curtness of her tone. “I
haven’t seen you in months. Since that day before the judge.”
    “You’ve called me almost every night.”
    “I’ve spoken to your machine almost every night. I’ve spoken
to your parents. I haven’t spoken to you.” He leaned one hand on the center of
her desk, staking a claim on her territory, bringing himself close enough that
she caught another whiff of his cologne. “I’ve been worried about you, Emma.”
    She put down the folder, picked up a pen and twirled it
through her fingers, determined not to back away. His nearness made her nervous
but only because she remembered how he had made her doubt herself with his
lies. At least, that was what she wanted to believe.
    Those charming blue eyes dipped, focusing on her lips. “Can’t
we at least talk, babe?”
    Her abdominal muscles tightened and her ribs began to ache
with the effort of holding her ground. “I don’t see that we have anything to
talk about. And I wish you’d get off my desk.”
    He ignored her wish. “Can’t you forgive me for a little
mistake?”
    She shot to her feet. “A mistake? You cheated on me several
times—”
    “Only twice.”
    “And then lied even after I caught you in the act.” Emma
took a deep breath. She would not be drawn into an argument over how
many affairs he’d