Free Dead Reaper Walking by Mina Carter Page B

chance to say that, or anything, cutting me off with a sharp gesture.
    “No, I don’t want to hear it.” The disgusted expression in his eyes cut me to the quick. “Unlike you, obviously, my job is to save lives. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get on with doing just that. Saving lives.”
    He turned and walked away, each step ringing like a death knell in my ears. My throat tightened and tears stabbed at the back of my eyes, as my hand rose without permission to cover my mouth.
    I couldn’t save everyone. I could only ease their passage into the afterlife.

Chapter Seven
     
    “Fucking idiot.”
    Troy didn’t make it to the car before the look on Laney’s face got to him. Hurt. Betrayal. Misery. Like a puppy that had been kicked. His steps slowed and guilt wrapped itself around his heart, settling into a hard knot in his gut.
    Shit. He shouldn’t have said all that about saving lives. To a reaper. He got it, really he did. For her to track down everyone about to make a bad decision and save their lives would be a futile task. One that led to madness. He couldn’t ask that of anyone. But…would it be too much to ask for her to pick up a missing girl’s lifeline?
    He had his hand on the car door handle before he sighed and turned around. Perhaps he was reading this wrong. Perhaps there was some unwritten reaper rule he didn’t know about. After all, they’d only known each other a few days, and before that, he hadn’t a clue reapers existed outside fairy tales. Then again, perhaps he just couldn’t see himself tracking down a missing girl and a demon without her backup. Hell, without her at the Kaufman house, he and Reilly would have been toast. Literally.
    He made two steps around the car on his way back to her before Laney roared past in her big SUV. He could have sworn it grinned and leered at him as it passed.
    “Goddammit!” Stepping into the street, he tried waving her down but she studiously ignored him, her face set in angry lines.
    “Nice one, Troy. She’s pissed at you. Well pissed. Beyond pissed.” Berating himself, he stormed back to his car and yanked the door open. His cell rang as he slid into the driver’s seat.
    “Yeah. Regan.” His answer was short and clipped. Great, now he was being an asshole to everyone.
    “Regan. It’s Andrews.” The sergeant’s deep voice filled his ear. “Just got a report of screaming at the Barnett place. Might be nothing, but you want to check it out?”
    Troy closed his eyes, and rested his head back against the seat. The Barnett place. Home of the battiest pair of old women anyone had ever met. Every cop in Oakland knew about the Barnett sisters. There wasn’t a week that went by without the department getting a call out to the place. Cat up the tree. Intruders in the house that turned out to be their own reflections in the mirror. Strange noises from the pipes they swore had to be their dead parents trying to communicate from beyond the grave.
    Wouldn’t be so bad if they were just harmless old women, but both had an eye for the men. Wasn’t a cop in Oakwood, Troy included, who hadn’t had his ass pinched by one or both of them. Even Reilly had…and honestly, Troy would’ve have given his right arm to see that little confrontation.
    But still, a scream was a scream and Murphy’s Law said the one time they dismissed the batty Barnetts, that would be the one time they were telling the truth.
    “Great.” He sighed into his cell phone. The deep chuckle from the other told him that Andrews had picked up his inner struggle. There was the distinct probability Troy was getting an ass-pinching from at least one octogenarian before the night was out. Great. “Okay, no problem. If I don’t check in by nine, send out a search party.”
    Andrew’s voice rumbled down the line. “Not a problem, my man. But…surely your girl being there will ward off any unwanted advances?”
    Troy turned the key with a savage twist. “It might. If she was with