Night Beats: Ghost in the Vending Machine

Chapter 21: S06E08: Easy Come, Easy Go

Jordan stood to the back of the small crowd that had gathered in the cemetery that overlooked the city. He rested in the shade of an ancient yew, picking the red berries off a fallen branch as he listened to Trix's service.

Before he was killed, Richard had arranged, and even paid, for Beatrix to be buried in a modest plot. It was depressing that he'd not trusted them enough to be forthcoming. If he had, they would be one step closer to finding out who in the department he was suspicious of.

The crowd had dispersed by the time he felt comfortable enough to approach her grave. Jane remained by his side as they said their final farewells, though for him, Trix was not in the casket, but his pocket.

"You okay?" Jane put a hand on his shoulder, his arm now in a sling as his stitches healed.

"Yeah. I'm just glad we were able to give her some kind of justice. Though, she kinda gave it to herself." He dug out a buffalo quarter, feeling the surface, but it was only a regular coin.

"You know that needs to be logged into evidence. They're packing up her things and sending them to the warehouse on Friday."

"Come on, Jane. You can't seriously-"

"It's the rules." She held out a hand, and Jordan sighed before placing it on her palm.

"Doesn't seem right to keep her in a dusty box."

"Jordan, she's gone. Brent confirmed it."

"I know. I know. It's fine. Just take it." He held up a hand in surrender, and Jane dropped it into a baggy, sealing the top with her thumb and forefinger. "You okay to drive home with that arm?"

"I got out here, didn't I?"

"Feisty."

"Sorry. I can't help but feel like this is my fault. She was a ghost, I didn't think she could die—again. I didn't even think she liked me." He turned his eyes to the modest clutch of daffodils sitting on her coffin.

"You do have a way with people I can't even begin to understand. Do you need some time?"

"Yeah. I'll text you later. We'll need to start trying to piece together Richard's murder board. Whoever did all this, I'm going to find him."

"You mean, we. But try to get some sleep, you look terrible."

"How is it you get shot and I'm the one still recovering?"

"It's a curse," she said while walking away.

"Funny." Jordan went back to his moping, but as the men came by to lower the casket into the ground, he decided to take his misery home to the company of a bottle of gin.

✧

The keys hit the counter with enough force that they slid across the granite and onto the floor. Jordan ignored them in favor of digging out his favorite glass, throwing in three cubes of ice, adding a lime, and dousing the whole thing in gin with a splash of seltzer. He set it down long enough to take off his sling and change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. By the time he got back, the ice was floating in more water than anticipated, which was probably for the best.

He took a sip and turned on the TV, picking something for background noise as he scrolled through images of Richard's office on his phone. "I don't know where to start." He groaned then dug around his pocket before removing a small plastic square.

"What do you think, Trix?" He held the quarter up to the light. "Still giving me the silent treatment, huh?" Jordan set it next to his glass. He propped his feet on the coffee table and turned up the volume on the TV. There was no telling if Jane would be observant enough to realize he'd filed the T off a regular buffalo quarter, but he had a feeling, even if she did, she'd not say anything.

Jordan grinned while taking another sip of his drink. "We'll see how long you can hold out before you finally tell me to shut up. You're about to find out that I make a terrible roommate," he added before dimming the lights and settling in for the kind of night where he'd wake up on the couch with a justifiable hangover.

✧✧✧