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“We contract out to them in these situations. A few people high up in the government know about us.” She stood and began to pace. “But that isn’t important now. What’s important is proving Timothy is the culprit and that he ordered a death, or more than one, that shouldn’t have occurred. We need to be proactive about defending you.”

Tessa twisted her fingers together. “How, exactly, do we do that?”

Cheryl grabbed her pass key and purse and spun toward the door. “We don’t do anything. You go to bed and stay out of trouble. I’m going to consult with the rest of the task force.”

She was gone before Tessa could say anything else.

Tessa was left staring at the back of the door, wondering what else her mom kept secret from her.

THE NEXT MORNING WHEN Tessa woke up, Cheryl wasn’t there. It was clear she’d been back and left again because the clothes she’d been wearing the night before were on her bed and a damp used towel lay on the bathroom floor.

Tessa was obviously still catching up on sleep from the late night out with Silas at the beginning of the convention. It felt like another time. Another her.

She took her time getting ready, Cheryl’s warning about a court martial and federal prison dominating her troubled thoughts.

When Tessa finally managed to push away that worry, another one popped up—Silas. Had she made a mistake spending so much time with him? He was clearly getting the feeling that Tessa was keeping something from him. If they continued their relationship, that could increase. He could get hurt.

But maybe it would be okay once that got back to Mist River and weren’t surrounded by reapers—and a rogue administrator ordering bogus reaps.

Tessa hadn’t come to any conclusions by the time she was dressed. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and headed out and immediately spotted Gloria, who was coming out of a room across the hall.

Gloria grinned. “Nice surprise last night, huh?”

“If by nice, you mean terrifying and annoying, then yes. Having my mother slash boss show up in my room unannounced was nice.” Tessa rolled her eyes.

“She said she called to tell you to expect her. You didn’t answer or call back.”

“She’s never heard of voicemail,” Tessa shot back. “Seriously, if what she had to say was important, she’d leave a message or text it to me.”

Gloria punched the down button on the elevator. “I guess you deserved the surprise, then. What’s she here for, anyway? Did she decide at the last minute that she wanted to get her learnin’ on? Or is she presenting? Seems weird, since this is the last day of the conference.”

They got into the empty elevator. “She’s the head of the task force that investigates lost souls and such,” Tessa explained. “She’s here to help handle the deaths of Art and Cynthia.”

Gloria whistled. “Wow. I don’t think you’re supposed to say things like that out loud,” she whispered, “the mythical task force is real. And Cheryl’s the head of it. That’s how you say it.”

They exited the elevator into the lobby, where reapers milled about or huddled in groups of two and three, talking in hushed tones. Tessa had a feeling that word of Cheryl’s arrival and what it meant had gotten out.

The breakfast buffet was crowded too. April was scheduled to give her wrap-up speech in the big conference room while people ate. Gloria and Tessa carried their plates and cups of coffee in and stood for a minute, looking for spots to sit. There weren’t many left, and they ended up in the front row, next to Bubba, who was beside Lee.

And to Lee’s other shoulder, Cheryl sat sipping coffee and looking calm. She glanced at her daughter, her gaze dropping to Tessa’s plate. She pressed her lips together, and Tessa knew her mother was judging her breakfast choices. Tessa lifted her chin, set the plate down, and took a big bite of donut in defiance.

April made her way to the podium and tapped the microphone. She looked paler than usual, and her eyes lingered on Cheryl for a second before darting away. She began to speak, talking about how well the conference had gone—considering—and how much knowledge had been passed back and forth between reapers.

Tessa nibbled and listened with half an ear. April’s tone was flat, her words more halting than usual. But she wasn’t saying anything particularly interesting, and Tessa preferred people-watching.

After ten minutes of droning on, April seemed to be wrapping up. “Our profession is an old and venerated one. As reapers, we are chosen for a sacred job. Gathering like this to help one another learn to do that job to the best of our abilities is an essential part of maintaining the integrity of our careers. I salute you all for attending and wish you luck over the next year. Until we meet again.”

April turned away from the microphone, toward Timothy, who approached his boss with a file.

Cheryl stood and cleared her throat, causing the murmur of voices that had begun to rise in the room to decrease back to silence again.

Lee and Bubba got to their feet too, and the three reapers edged out of the row of chairs and approached April and Timothy.

Tessa perked up. Lee and Bubba were on the task force?

Cheryl spoke in a clear, ringing voice that seemed enhanced somehow, as though she wore an invisible microphone. “Yes, we do have a sacred mandate to help the dead cross over. We also have a responsibility to police ourselves—to ensure that those who are within the fold of our organization have impeccable ethics. Unfortunately, we have reason to believe there’s been a problem. The Task Force on Lost Souls and Misplaced Allocations,” she glanced at Lee and Bubba, “has found reasonable proof that Timothy Bond has engaged in unlawful activities resulting in the deaths of reapers and the misallocations of their souls.”

Bubba stepped forward, reaching for Timothy, whose face drained. He looked even paler

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