Abracadaver (Esther Diamond Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A

realized until just now, when John baldly used the word “date,” that he had been showing interest in me—
that
kind of interest.
    John was subtle and courteous about it (which was the kind of man he was), and that was one of the reasons I’d been oblivious until this moment.
    But the main reason I hadn’t noticed John flirting with me—which I now realized he had been doing lately—was because I was obsessed with Lopez. Or at least very preoccupied with him. And we were dating again. Or trying to date, anyhow . . . unless, after last night’s smash-and-grab, we were already in another off-again phase? Either way, I was involved with him. Well, kind of involved. We had a relationship, anyhow, though we weren’t
in
a relationship. Not yet, really. Or maybe we were, but we didn’t—
    Okay, stop.
    I let my breath out in a rush and gave myself a mental kick. This was not the time to try to find the right word for whatever was between me and Lopez. So far, we had
never
found the right word for it, and it certainly wasn’t going to happen now, standing in ankle-deep slush on a noisy street corner in Chinatown while Max and Lucky both looked at me with concern, no doubt wondering what John was saying that was making me go all tense and fidgety.
    On my phone, John said, “I mean, I want to ask you out later, when my head is clear, instead of right now when I’m so freaked out.”
    Oh, no
,
I thought uncomfortably. John wanted to go out with me. What was I going to do? What should I say to him?
    I’d had no problem recently turning down Danny Teng (multiple times), because he was a sleazy thug who made my skin crawl. But I hated the thought of rejecting John, who I really liked.
    I was unprepared. How had I not seen this coming?
    Come on, don’t beat yourself up. There’s been a lot of Evil and fear and deadly cookies ever since you met John. And you’ve been working long hours, too.
    Plus, things had been so volatile with Lopez lately.
    Oh, when are things
not
volatile with him?
    “Esther,” John prodded. “Is that okay?”
    I really needed to focus here.
    “Is John okay?” Lucky asked.
    “I don’t know,” I replied.
    “What’s going on?” Lucky demanded.
    “I’m sorry, I know I’m babbling,” John said. “And not making much sense.”
    “No, it’s okay,” I said vaguely. “You’re fine.”
    “Is something wrong?” Lucky asked, worried about his honorary nephew, who’d had a close brush with death today.
    “Would you just look for a cab?” I said.
    “A cab?” John repeated blankly.
    “Not you,” I said. “John, what’s going on? Why did you call?”
    He took a breath. “I really need you to bring your friend Dr. Zadok here.”
    “Where is ‘here’?”
    “Oh! Sorry. I’m at the funeral home.”
    I looked at Max, covered in soot and patently weary, as I asked John, “When do you want to see him?”
    “Right now.” When I didn’t answer immediately, John said, “It’s important, Esther.”
    “All right. We’re still in Chinatown,” I said a little reluctantly. “We can be there in a few minutes. But what’s going on?”
    “Well, um . . . This is going to sound weird.”
    “Uh-huh.” I gestured at Lucky, trying to tell him we wouldn’t need a ride, after all.
    John cleared his throat. “One of the departed . . . I mean, a few minutes ago, one of our corpses just kind of . . .”
    “Yes?”
    “. . . just kind of got out of its coffin and walked away.”

3
    C hen’s Funeral Home was in a turn-of-the-century building in what had previously been Little Italy, a neighborhood which had shrunk to just a few short blocks over the decades while Chinatown had by now grown to encompass much of the old Lower East Side. The funeral business operated in an L-shaped structure with two entrances that were on different streets, their façades separated from each other by the other buildings on the two blocks; unless you knew what lay behind the public faces of the