Prologue
‘Closed casket?’ ‘Your motorcycle was hit by an eighteen-wheeler on Interstate 95.’ ‘Oh.’ Simon looked around the group of mourners. ‘I didn’t feel anything.’ ‘That’s because we took your soul before you got hit.’ ‘Oh.’ Simon heard crying coming from someone in the room. ‘But I was only twenty-seven.’ He saw his mom and cousins hugging. ‘I wasn’t ready. I had things I wanted to do.’ ‘I’m sorry, Simon.’ ‘What happens now?’ ‘You’re being assigned to a detail.’ ‘Assigned?’ ‘Yes. Come with me.’ Simon took a last look at the closed coffin and followed. ‘I’m not very good at details. I mean, I don’t like to work… or study.’ ‘You’ll do fine.’ ‘But… you don’t understand. I’m my own boss.’ ‘Not anymore. Now you answer to the Big Man on top.’ Simon became confused. ‘Big Man?’ ‘Yes. You’ll see.’
Chapter 1
Sixty-five-year-old Evelyn Frances knew she was dying. The cancer had progressed to stage 4. She was sick of the treatment, which made her symptoms worse. Evelyn was ready to go, but her thirty-five-year-old son, Liam, was a mess. The two of them had been close since he was a baby, and unlike his sister, Karen, Liam had a soft heart, and was loving and kind. Lying in the hospital bed, a tube connected to the vein in her arm, Evelyn was kept comfortable and pain free because of morphine and other medication. Mostly morphine. With nothing but time to think, Evelyn smiled sadly to herself. She’d had a great life. She had been a huge movie star in her prime. As she aged, having nearly a hundred acting credits, including directing, Evelyn had a good life. Nothing to complain about. She now owned a women’s clothing line, with her gay son. Her daughter had married a wealthy man, so she did very little for a living. Karen, who was forty, was an entitled bitch. Evelyn didn’t mind telling her so. She and Karen had never been close. Karen was like her father. Lazy. Liam and Karen’s dad had left when they were in their young teens, never coming back. Her ex-husband decided he’d rather have a young trophy wife at the premieres than her. After her diagnosis, she thought of calling him, but he didn’t care what happened to her or their two children, so why bother? It annoyed her, of course, then over the years as he decayed body and soul, she continued to thrive… until. The diagnosis. Closing her eyes and visualizing her wonderful life of fame and fortune, Evelyn felt someone in the room. It was late at night, but sometimes nurses came in to check on her. Maybe to see if she was dead. That made her smirk. Not dead yet, honey. Opening her eyes, Evelyn saw a handsome young man in the room. He was not dressed as an orderly or nurse. And… she almost was able to see through him. How bizarre. Good ole morphine. “Hi, Evie.” “Do I know you?” “No.” Then, she knew. How she knew? She couldn’t say. “You’ve come to take me?” He gave her a loving smile.
