"Why won’t you just do this? If it’s the money, I’ll double your fee."
I raised an eyebrow. "That’s a lot of money."
"I have a lot of money. What I need is my husband back among the living for a few more minutes."
I couldn’t tell you what it was that went through her eyes just then, or why I didn’t like it. I’d spent too much time around bad people not to look for it in most faces, and I had my share of clients whose lies had created some really awful nights. I’d even had one client who had me raise a husband that she had killed, and he had done what all murdered zombies do—killed his murderer. Until he throttled the life out of her I couldn’t command him to do a damn thing. Things like that had made me suspicious of the stories that the nice people across my desk told me.
"What will you do with him for those minutes, Ms. Zell?" I asked.
She crossed her arms over her thin chest and scowled at me. She wasn’t trying to be pretty anymore, or soft. Her eyes were suddenly more gray than green, and it was a steely gray like a polished gun barrel. "You know, who the fuck talked to you?"
I shrugged and gave a little smile, letting her pick a name.
"It was that bastard gardener, wasn’t it? I should have tried to sharpen the axe myself."
I kept the vague smile on my face and gave her an encouraging look. It was amazing what people would tell me if I just kept quiet and seemed to know more than I did.
"I’ll pay your regular fee, plus a million dollars tax-free so that no one knows but you and me."
I raised both eyebrows at that. "That is a lot of money."
"It’s not about the money; what I want is revenge."
I fought my face not to look surprised. I needed her to believe I already knew most of it to keep her talking. "You can’t take revenge on the true dead, Ms. Zell. They’re dead. It doesn’t get much more revengey than that."
She leaned forward again, hands out, almost pleading. "But you can make him alive again for me. He’ll believe he’s alive, right?"
I nodded.