Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross (25 page)

“Go home, Brigit,” he finally said. “I’ll
deliver my decision in three days.”

“I don’t understand,” Brigit admitted. John
could hear the confusion in her voice. She had expected a severe
and immediate sentence.

“You’re suspended until I can decide what to
do. I think it’s the fairest thing to do at this point. Go home.
I’ll come to you once I’ve made up my mind,” he said quietly.

Finally, Brigit stood and exited his office
as quietly as she had entered it. He heard a short exchange between
the two women before the main door to 666 ½ Bleecker Street was
opened and Brigit was gone.

John remained relaxed in his chair for quiet
some time after she had left. While she had mismanaged the
assignment and failed to ask for help, Brigit had made some
recovery of balance by increasing her work load and the discovery
of Belinda Yaris. Brigit had admitted her mistakes. She had taken
responsibility fearlessly. John knew he couldn’t discount those
facts. Yet, there was one thing she had omitted and John found that
to be an irksome thought. Whatever it was – personal or not – John
wanted and needed to know what it was before he could allow her to
carry on. He had told her three days. There was time to determine
his sentence in a cool manner. He had time to find justification
for what his heart demanded of him in regard to Brigit Malone.

“Mr. Blackwick, sir?”

John started at the sound of Belinda Yaris’
voice behind him. He had been so consumed with the ideas of how he
would approach Brigit that he had not heard the new girl’s entrance
into his office. Looking over his shoulder, John found her standing
just inside the door with the large black ledger she had been so
diligently recording in held against her chest. Her eyes, so very
bright blue against the pale skin and raven hair, were trained on
him in a wary stare. It seemed the young woman always looked at him
this way. John couldn’t tell whether it was a look of fear or deep
reverence – or both.

“Miss Yaris,” John cleared his throat and
tried to sound as though he were pleasantly surprised to see her.
“What can I assist you with?”

“I’ve finished with this book,” Belinda
declared. “I was wondering where I would find a new one.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Over to your right
there, Miss Yaris, are the blanks. Completed ledgers are stored
here on this wall,” John instructed with a nod of his head toward
the wall of bookshelves behind him.

He stepped aside as Belinda diligently
marched to the bookshelf and stored the completed tome where he had
indicated before turning and marching back across the room to
retrieve a fresh one. There was something about her that fascinated
John when he had a moment to contemplate the new recruit. Yet, as
soon as he had a thought to spare for Belinda Yaris, a different
and more pressing thought would quickly follow – pushing any
further musings of Belinda Yaris from his mind.

“Mr. Blackwick?”

John’s attention was returned to the young
woman once more.

“Yes?”

“Is there an official policy book for the
firm? I mean, you know, something that lays all the rules out?” she
asked timidly.

“Not really. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason, I guess,” came the reply; but
John suspected there actually was a reason behind the inquiry. “I
was just wondering if there were rules regarding workplace
relationships.”

John studied her face for a second as he
thought of how to respond. She was young enough to be the type to
find infatuation with the mysterious, bad boy type. Although she
had had limited interaction, John quickly came to the conclusion
that Belinda Yaris may have developed a slight crush on Seamus
Flannery. As John continued to ponder the right response, he
noticed the newest member of the firm beginning to grow nervous
with the wait.

“Well,” John finally began, “I don’t know
that there’s ever been a circumstance that warranted the creation
of a policy regarding
that
,” he mused. “However, I would
have to strongly suggest that, should it occur, that both parties
involved maintain their priorities regarding the firm and their
duties as assigned. I should also hope, Miss Yaris, that
you
will use your better judgment if an opportunity should present
itself.”

Belinda only nodded in response before
exiting his office. He hoped she understood his warning without his
having to be overly blunt. He remembered Brigit’s prediction that
Seamus Flannery would one day become a problem and even though he
tried hard not to dwell on it, John knew eventually her prediction
would come true. The recent chain of events revealed the beginnings
of that particular worry. Considering the fascination Belinda had
revealed without knowing it, John suddenly hoped Seamus wouldn’t
drag the young woman into the drama as well. She seemed like a good
girl with a good heart. John abhorred the idea of having to mete
out a dire punishment on her because of one bad choice.

Belinda returned to her desk and sighed. John
had answered her question somewhat vaguely, but she had caught the
warning at the end of it. She had the sense that John Blackwick
suspected the object of her fascination, but Belinda was sure he
was misjudging Seamus Flannery. The Irishman seemed sweet toward
her during their few conversations, almost gentle, even though he
pretended to be so very dangerous.

Belinda opened the fresh ledger and reached
for the files Seamus had turned into her that morning. His quick
recovery from his sickness had caused John to set Seamus back to
work at reaping souls although they were relatively easy ones
compared to what the Irish Reaper said he was used to. He had
lamented his boredom with the assignments during his brief visit to
her office. Belinda had merely listened, hoping he would notice
that he had her full attention.

As she began to record the pertinent
information, Belinda decided they were wrong about the rugged,
flame haired Irishman. They didn’t see what she saw in him. They
were wrong about Seamus Flannery and that was all there was to
it.

Brigit stood from Maggie’s reading chair and
went to the window. She was impatient, yet, she was not sure
whether it was from the waiting for Maggie to return home or from
the waiting to see what John would decide to do to her. Deep down,
she hoped he would give her the position back. She was not willing
to resign herself to the idea of being crossed over just yet. It
would ultimately mean the breaking of her promise to Maggie – the
whole reason she had taken the offered position in the first
place.

She had only been home for two days, but it
felt like ages as she pondered the possibility that John would
arrive with the purpose of crossing her over. Brigit hated the
waiting, but at the moment, she had no other option. Today was the
third day. Brigit hoped John would make his appearance soon and the
wait would finally be over.

Yet, the street was empty. Looking up and
down it from the bay window, Brigit caught no sight of her mentor.
Sighing heavily, she turned and made her way back towards Maggie’s
chair. She would just have to sit and continue her wait.

As she began to lower herself into the
cushion, Brigit paused.

An odd energy was emanating from the door.
The chill that floated across the room caused her skin to tingle
despite the warmth of her black coat. Curious, she crept to the
door and listened. She had felt this before. As she listened for
any tell-tale sign of the source, her mind raced to find the memory
where she had experienced the feeling. Quickly, she pressed her eye
against the peephole as the energy continued to grow stronger. A
gasp escaped her when he stepped onto the landing and paused,
looking first at the door that concealed her and then at the door
across the hall. His black robes fluttered with an eerie breeze
that blew from behind him. His pale skin seemed almost transparent
in the dim light of the hall. Brigit could feel her heart
thundering in her ears as she realized who she was peering at. It
was the Bailey and he was on an assignment. When he turned to enter
the door across the hall, Brigit felt her fear explode. He was
after Mama Dee…

Mama Dee closed her eyes and began to massage
her forehead. She had felt the migraine coming on as soon as she
had awakened that morning. As a precaution, she had called the
women’s shelter and told her boss she wouldn’t be in today because
of the headache. After a compassionate plea to please go see a
doctor, Winifred had excused Mama Dee for as long as she needed on
the condition that she present a doctor’s note upon her return to
work. As she hung up the phone, Mama Dee had silently thought that
today might actually be the day to finally make an appointment. The
headaches were becoming too frequent and at her age, she couldn’t
financially afford to miss any more work.

A deep sigh escaped her as she massaged her
head. There was more behind all this, she thought. She wished she
could talk to Brigit. Maybe the young woman would have some more
insight for her now that she walked on the unseen side of life.

Mama Dee felt herself smile at the thought of
Brigit. The young woman’s energy had been a little stronger in the
apartment across the hall for the past two days, but Mama Dee had
not managed to have a moment to openly acknowledge it. Maggie must
have noticed it as well, Mama Dee thought. The woman had not made
her usual request for the old woman to join her for dinner. Maggie
was keeping it all to herself – a notion Mama Dee couldn’t really
blame her for.

The tea kettle began its lonesome cry in the
kitchen and Mama Dee opened her weary eyes. The throbbing was
mounting. She hoped a big cup of chamomile and mint would reduce
the pressure long enough to allow her to call the doctor’s office
and set an appointment. After that, Mama Dee decided, she would let
the banging explode while she hid in the darkness of her
bedroom.

Mama Dee lifted the kettle from the stove to
cease its cry. As she poured the boiling water into the waiting
mug, she felt the chill creep through the air behind her. Slowly,
she set the kettle on the counter, uncaring that it would scorch
the counter top beneath it. Every hair on her body began to stand
on end as she braced herself for what she would face when she
turned around. Although she would not see it, she could feel it.
The cold energy that reached out to embrace her caused her heart to
thunder in her ears, suddenly drowning out the explosion of the
migraine that had finally began its massive assault of pain and
fireworks…

Brigit entered Mama Dee’s apartment silently.
The Bailey had been too focused on his prey to hear her as she
exited her own apartment. She only hoped she was not too late to
stop him in his mission. It wasn’t Mama’s time to go. It couldn’t
be…

As she crept down the narrow hall that led to
Mama Dee’s kitchen, she could see the Bailey standing in the
doorway – frozen as if he were suddenly afraid to move. The string
of curse words she heard in Mama Dee’s voice alarmed her. Mama Dee
had never uttered a swear word in Brigit’s presence before and to
hear the old black woman do so now caused Brigit to increase her
speed. With a sudden flying leap, Brigit propelled herself the
remaining length of the hall and tackled the Bailey from behind. A
cry of sudden surprise escaped him before they both fell crashing
to the kitchen floor.

As they grappled on the floor, Brigit felt
the occasional hard kick to her ribs as Mama Dee joined in the
fray. The frightened commands to get out of her house, to return to
the depths of hell from whence they had came reached through to
Brigit’s brain as she desperately fought to maintain the Bailey in
her grasp. He was slippery, though, like a fish fresh from slimy
waters. His robes were oily in her hands as she grasped at them.
Twice, he slithered out of her reach but Brigit would manage one
way or another to regain her hold before feeling another kick from
the frightened Mama Dee. Finally, Brigit managed to still the chaos
in her mind for half a second.

“
John, I need you quickly
,” she cried
out in her mind.

Whether or not her mentor heard or answered,
Brigit was not aware, The Bailey had slipped out of her hold once
more and began a frightened scramble for the hall. Brigit rose to
her feet once more and lunged to tackle him again. In mid-air, she
had heard Mama Dee gasp. Either the old woman had finally seen her
mortal body or she had recognized Brigit – or maybe even both.
Brigit had no moment to spare thought as she and the Bailey crashed
to the floor in the narrow hall and continued their frantic
writhing for escape and control. Somehow, Brigit managed to wrap
her legs around the death bringer’s waist and lock her feet at the
ankles. She was instinctively intent on squeezing any life out of
him as she held his bald head in a firm head lock under one arm. At
her head, she could feel Mama Dee’s cautious approach. With a quick
glance back, Brigit saw her friend creeping down the hall, a frying
pan held over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

“Mama, no, it’s okay now. I have him,” Brigit
gushed as the Bailey wiggled in an attempt to escape.

“Brigit?” There was a note of disbelief in
Mama Dee’s voice.

“Brigit, what
are
you doing?”

Brigit’s attention snapped to the other end
of the hall to find John standing there. There was a surprised look
on his face as he viewed his assistant on the floor with the
elusive Bailey in possibly the most complicated death hold John
Blackwick had ever seen.

“Would you like the long or short version?”
Brigit gasped. The Bailey wiggled again and she tightened her hold
one more notch. The Bailey began to wheeze as he gasped for
air.