Riley Thorn and the Corpse in the Closet by Lucy Score

43

1:12 p.m., Tuesday, August 18

There was something comforting about the aftermath of a crime, Riley thought as she watched firefighters, paramedics, and cops slowly restore order to Sixth Street.

Channel 75, a rival news channel located just down the block, gleefully reported live from the scene while Chris Yang tried his best to record Bella Goodshine reporting the news on an iPhone while a paramedic bandaged his injured foot. Chelsea was strapped to a gurney while an EMT attempted to remove a stapler that had embedded itself in her hair. Firefighters pulled a still duct-taped Griffin from the dumpster.

The rest of the Channel 50 staff was celebrating being alive and the prospect of getting a new building with drinks at a bar two blocks down.

“No more moldy break room.”

“No more stopped-up toilets.”

Riley sat half a block back from the barricades to avoid the cameras while Nick gave his statement. She’d already given hers and had taken Kellen aside to strongly suggest he look into what had happened to Hudson’s brother’s high school bullies. He’d find more death and, if he looked beneath the surface, more murder.

Families would get answers to questions they didn’t know they had. She wondered if the knowing would do more harm than good. Wondered if a high school bully would have grown into a compassionate adult if given the chance. But Hudson had taken those chances away.

Gabe was next to her, his biceps and shoulders covered in shallow cuts and scrapes from the shrapnel. He was still shirtless, but one of the paramedics had given him scrub pants.

“You did great today, Gabe,” Riley said, nudging him with her shoulder.

He beamed down at her. “It was my honor.”

“We make a great team.”

“It would appear so.” He looked at his extra-large hands. “I am sorry for saying you wish to go nowhere. That is not what friends do.”

“You may have made a teeny, tiny, practically insignificant point,” she admitted. “I have to either embrace this or swear it off. Dabbling is dangerous, and I can’t just cherry-pick the good stuff about being psychic and avoid all the bad stuff.”

“Am I good stuff or bad stuff?” he asked.

“You’re the best stuff,” she assured him. “I’m serious. You walked into a hostage situation today on purpose to help. I had to be dragged in at gunpoint. You and Nick make the whole hero thing look so easy. I’ve got a lot to learn from both of you.”

“You believe me to be a hero?” he repeated.

She grinned. “Yeah. I do. And anyone, including Elanora Basil, who says otherwise can fight me.”

The man looked as if he’d just been handed an entire litter of sleeping puppies. “Thank you for the gift of your friendship, Riley Thorn.”

“You are welcome, Gabe… Hey. What is your last name?”

“Gabe!”

Riley and Gabe both looked up as Wander pushed her way through the crowd.

“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching for him and then dropping her hands to her side. “Are you both okay?” She gestured in Riley’s direction.

“Is our heroic friend moment over?” Gabe asked solicitously.

“Yeah, I think so,” Riley said.

“Wonderful.” He climbed to his feet. “Wander, would you do me the great honor of joining me for ice cream?”

Riley watched her sister’s face as it beamed like the sun with a crush on the earth. “Yes, Gabe. A thousand times, yes.”

Elanora appeared and fixed Gabe with a piercing gaze. Riley tensed, and Wander looked crestfallen.

But Gabe straightened his shoulders and stared down at her tiny grandmother.

“Elanora, I am escorting Wander to get ice cream,” he announced.

Riley blinked and held her breath.

There was silence for a long moment, and then her grandmother nodded curtly. “I trust you both will continue to apply yourselves to your work with diligence regardless of any dalliances with…frozen desserts.”

Wander and Gabe shared a wide-eyed look before nodding vigorously. “We will, Grandmother,” Wander assured Elanora.

“Then go. Enjoy yourselves.” Elanora sounded like she was choking on the words. But it still counted as a blessing.

It might have been the smoking debris still raining down from the sky, but Riley felt a little teary-eyed as she watched her sister and her gentle giant friend walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand.

“Well, that was a fine mess.”

Riley looked up and found her grandmother staring down at her.

“Yeah. Thanks for the help,” she said dryly.

“You will walk with me,” Elanora announced.

Too tired to argue, Riley climbed to her feet and followed her grandmother down the alley.

“You did not need my help,” the old woman said.

“I did. You could have contacted the spirit of Hudson’s brother much faster than I did. This whole thing could have ended an hour ago. With no explosion, I might add.”

“It was your responsibility. You needed to see it through.”

“Grandma, this is not some kind of class project. This was life and death.”

“And you needed to realize that when it comes to life and death, you can handle situations like this. Maybe not as efficiently or with as much poise and grace as myself. But you got everyone out of that building alive. Including your insipid ex-husband.”

“That was a team effort,” Riley said modestly.

“And you stepped up to be part of that team. Those people got out because of you.”

Riley’s chest was just puffing with pride when her grandmother added, “Unfortunately, the property was destroyed because of you. However, I sense that most of them will get over it quickly.”

“So why did you come down here then, if it wasn’t to help?” Riley asked in exasperation.

Elanora frowned. “To watch my granddaughter in action, of course. Some grandmothers attend soccer games or debate clubs or homecoming parades. I came to watch you save lives.”

“Are you saying you’re proud of me?” Riley asked, fishing for praise.

Elanora’s lips twitched in their perpetual frown. “Perhaps I did it so I could say ‘I told you so.’”

It was good enough for Riley. “Thank you for the lessons—even the painful ones.”

“Do not thank me. It’s unseemly.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “I guess it would be extra unseemly if I hugged you,” she said, opening her arms, knowing full well she was a dirty, smoky, glittery mess.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elanora scoffed. “Now, before I go. I received a message for you from a Bianca.”

“Bianca Hornberger?”

“Yes. She wanted me to tell you thank you and she wants a favor.”

“That sounds about right.”

“She wants you to tell her family she’s sorry for being too distracted by the shiny things in life to be present for the important things.”

“Wait. Are you sure you got the right Bianca?” Riley asked.

“Death strips away everything we think is important only to reveal what actually is important,” Elanora said. “All souls remember their truth once the distortions of life begin to fade.”

Riley blinked. “Wow. So even bad people become good souls?”

“Something like that. The important lesson is to not wait for death to make you a good soul. Now, if you will excuse me, I have an important meeting to attend.” Elanora paused, then awkwardly patted her on the head before striding off, leaving Riley to stare after her, feeling like she’d just been handed a cosmic lesson, one she didn’t know what to do with.

“Hey there, Sexy Sparkle. Got you a souvenir,” Nick said from behind her.

Riley turned and admired the view as he approached. He looked heroic with a half-dozen bandages over cuts and burns, his clothing torn and dirty. Luckily for him, the bomb blast seemed to have shaken off most of the glitter.

“Hey there, Hometown Hero.”

He held out a piece of cardboard. It looked like a very small pair of shoes. “This is all that’s left of your ex’s cutout.”

Riley laughed and threw Griffin’s tiny feet over her shoulder so she could loop her arms around Nick’s neck. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

He grinned the full dimpled wattage at her. “Not nearly often enough.”

“I love you, Nick Santiago. Thank you for saving my ass once again.”

“It’s a nice ass. I’m kind of in love with it,” he said.

She felt something between them vibrate.

“Is that a phone in your pocket or did you learn a new trick?”

He fished out her phone and handed it over. “You left this in your Jeep at a crime scene.”

Riley glanced at the screen and winced. “Ten missed calls from my mother.”

A shiny black car rolled up to the police barricade, and a distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit rolled down the rear window.

“Mr. Gentry,” Chris said, abandoning his iPhone reporting.

“Why are we getting scooped on our own explosion?” Malcolm Gentry demanded.

Chris pointed over his shoulder at the smoldering skeleton of the building. “Well, sir, there was a bomb.”

“I can see that,” Malcolm said crisply. “Why aren’t we reporting it?”

Chris rubbed his dirty hands over his forehead. “Well, Mr. Gentry, sir. The bomb blew up our building with all our equipment. So there’s that.”

“I didn’t drive down here for excuses. Get a cameraman and a reporter and get on it.”

“Dad!” Griffin waved to his father as a firefighter cut through duct tape around his legs.

“Hi, Daddy!” Bella purred, batting unnaturally long lashes in her soon-to-be father-in-law’s direction.

“Man, I do not miss this place,” Riley said.

“I like that you’re the kind of girl who blows up buildings,” Nick said.

“Technically that was Mrs. Penny,” she pointed out.

“Riley! Hey, Riley! I’m going to need you on camera in five minutes,” Chris said, waving frantically. “Also, do you have a camera?”

“Not happening, Chris,” she told him.

“But—”

“Not happening,” she repeated.

“You heard the lady,” Nick cut in, glaring at Chris until he scampered off.

“Wow. You didn’t even have to punch him in the face.”

“I’m heroically bloody and intimidating,” he explained. “Let’s go grab some lunch, Thorn.”

She laughed and looked down. She was a sweaty, glittery, dirty mess. “Like this?”

“Hell yeah, like this. Let’s go sit on a deck and get drunk,” he said.

“It’s a Tuesday and not even—” She glanced down at her watch. “Oh my God. One p.m. This is the longest day of my life.”

“Live a little, Thorn,” Nick suggested nuzzling her neck.

“Mmm, you’re very convincing,” she said as they meandered away from the wreckage of Channel 50.

“By the way, my dad called during this whole fiasco.”

“What did he want?” she asked.

“He wants us to come to dinner at the restaurant again.”

“To eat or work?”

“Both. Seems he’s down a server and a bartender tonight.”

After the morning she’d barely survived, Riley didn’t feel up to the dinner shift in a busy restaurant.

“I told him we had other plans,” Nick told her.

“Oh, thank God.”

“He was still willing to pack up a dinner for us to go.” He sounded enthusiastic about this.

“Which means what?”

“He likes you. He’s welcoming you to the family,” he explained as he led her down the block. He was walking with a limp and leaning on her. She liked it.

“What about your mother?”

“She still thinks you’re the daughter of a hippie witch and a farmer, so I wouldn’t be expecting any hugs from her anytime soon,” Nick advised.

“Noted.”

“I’m proud of you, Thorn.”

“Why is that?”

“You didn’t throw a gun at the bad guy this time.”

“No. I almost shot you and Mrs. Penny instead.”

“Progress.”

“Yo! Wait up, boss man,” Mrs. Penny called. She was hustling after them as fast as her cane could go. “Where are we going?”

“To get drunk,” Nick told her.

“Count me in. My blood alcohol level is dangerously low.”

Riley’s phone rang.

“Hi, Mom,” she said.

“Oh, good. You’re not dead,” her mother said dryly.