Chapter 2

Still Monday.

After the little PTA meeting, I fished out a twenty and left it for waitress Candi. Its a bit much of a tip for coffee service, but waitress Candi was only an hour off her shift as single mom Candace, and 6 hours away from being exotic dancer Candy Cane.

Hell even if i couldn't read her surface thoughts about an aching back, daycare issues, and the perils of dancing in stilettos; the scent of peppermint body glitter and diaper cream lingers a bit after she leaves the table.

Candi was the kind of woman who could smile through anything, and she did. That kind of attitude might be powerful enough to charm even an old cynic like me into giving a damn.

But not today.

Using my abilities requires a sensitive blend of neurochemistry that only really takes effect after twenty-four hours of being awake. Once they activate I can usually ride the endorphin high and use some stimulants to stay awake till the jobs done.

Yes, anything over 36 hours of runtime causes the brain to go a bit loopy. Mild hallucinations are common. They aren't so bad and can be ignored for the most part.

The longer I run the stronger the abilities get ... and it was time to leave the diner before the hallucinations spread to the other patrons.

I decided to walk home, can't trust myself not to fall asleep in a cab. That would be ... bad.

What's it like to walk though a big city while hallucinating? Usually its about the same, but the homeless crazes make a lot more sense and your fine unless you try to follow any white rabbits.

A knock on the door woke me. I was on the couch half dressed, my shoes still on, but with my pants in a ball around my ankles. Apparently the effort of untying shoes was a bit much.

My body walked home on auto-pilot. I knew I was hovering just on the north side of consciousness, but i didn't think I would sleepwalk. I didn't remember anything about the five blocks between the Village Inn and my apartment. I hope i didn't end up doing anything too horrible or too public. My ID can be a real monstrous son of a bitch. I pulled up my pants, did a quick check for bloodstains ( none ), the money (still there) and went to answer the door.

I swung the door open. Yes I know I should have looked through the peephole. But I was still hovering in that sweet spot between sleep and wake and could tell with my eyes closed who was on the other side. He always smells of Crest, Teaberry gum and formaldehyde.

It was Steve Lives (pronounced leaves). He is an assistant at the coroner's office. His unfortunate name mixed with his profession creates a brew of bad puns no matter how you pronounce it. He makes a show of hating the jokes but secretly reveles in the attention. A very intelligent man, and so far the only one who has a fair idea of what I am capable of. Figured it out himself too. He is an annoyingly smart man.

My minds eye was blasted with an image of warm apple pie steaming from the oven, espresso, and a reuben sandwich with all their delicious smells. Then just as my appetite was salivating like a cartoon wolf a large Plaid elephant appears turns around and relieves himself all over the dream breakfast.

"You like that?" Steve had an annoying bit of snark to his voice.

"Steve you rat bastard."

"Serves you right for peeking"

"It's not my fault ... just woke up."

"Who the hell is still asleep on a thursday afternoon?"

"Me." I quipped. "Damn, did you say Thursday?"

"Take a minute and shower ... then I need you to come down and take a look at something that is puzzling me."

"What is it another John Doe you want me to ID? I don't work for free"

"Oh, I don't need an ID, but I think you might want to do this one Pro-Bono. Got a body that showed up pretty mangled. They found it in the river yesterday. The address in the wallet says that she is just a few blocks from this neighborhood and I have placed the time of death sometime monday afternoon."

Damn.

Damn.

Damn.