But for him to say that I’d summoned him just didn’t make sense. I’d have to look into that one.

“How long have you been awake?”

I snapped back to Garrett and looked at my watch. Or, well, my wrist where my watch would have been had I remembered it. “Um, about thirteen days.”

He seemed to still beside me. I couldn’t be sure, though. I was drifting in and out of reality, if the little girl with the kitchen knife on his hood was any indication. I suppose she could have been a departed, but they rarely rode on hoods.

“Look, I realize you’re different than the average human,” Garrett said, his tone guarded, “but thirteen days without sleep can’t be good for anyone, not even you.”

“Probably not. Did you buy a new hood ornament?”

He glanced at his hood. “No.”

“This doctor have a name?”

He reached across my lap into the glove box and pulled out a card. “Here’s his info. He’s supposed to go to your office this morning if you make it in.”

Dr. Nathan Yost. “I’ll make it in. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Nope. He’s an ass**le. But everyone else on planet Earth seems to worship him.”

“All righty, then.” I tried to stuff the card into a pocket, then realized I didn’t have any. “Hey, I left my bag in Misery.”

Garrett shook his head. “The things you say, Charles. Oh, I keep meaning to tell you, I’ve been working on a special list of things one should never say to the grim reaper.”

I chuckled. “I have so many comebacks to that, I don’t think I can pick just one.”

“I’ll start at the bottom,” he said with a grin. “Are you ready?”

I shrugged my right eyebrow. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Okay, number five, I’m dead tired.”

“So, it’s not a particularly long list.”

“Do you want to hear the list or not?” he asked as we pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building.

“I’m weighing my options. This list could either be a revelation of apocalyptic proportions or a complete waste of my limited brain fuel. I’m leaning toward the latter.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you the rest when you’re in a better mood. It’ll make it more suspenseful.”

“Good idea,” I said with a thumbs-up. Suspenseful, my ass.

“Nobody recognizes true talent anymore.” He escorted me upstairs. “Are you going to get some sleep?” he asked as I inched the door closed between us, leaving him in the hallway.

“Not if I can help it.” At least he’d been of some use to me. I’d made it through another hour without sleep.

Just as I closed the door and turned toward the coffeepot, he reopened it, muttered, “Lock this,” then closed it again.

I trudged back and locked the door only to hear keys jiggling in the lock about two seconds later. Either that, or I’d fallen asleep standing up again. Since Reyes hadn’t appeared to offer me an earth-shattering cl**ax, probably not.

Cookie burst in, walked right past me, and headed straight for the coffeepot. “Did you talk to Garrett?”

I followed her. “Yep. I think there was a clown in my apartment this morning.”

“Are my pajamas that bad?” she asked, surveying the pj’s she still wore.

“No.” I blinked back to her. “A dead clown.”

“Oh. Like a departed?”

“Yes.”

“Is he gone?” she asked, glancing around in concern.

“Yes. He crossed.”

“Well, that explains the clown comment. I just thought you were being a smart-ass.”

That trip made me super sleepy. Maybe I really did need a shot of adrenaline. “Hey, I thought you were going back to bed.”

“I was, but visions of sugarplums kept dancing through my head. Sugarplums of the male variety, if you know what I mean. Speaking of which,” she said, taking a long draw on her java, “was Garrett naked?”

“Why would Garrett be naked?” I asked, carefully placing a frown on my face to camouflage the giggle bubbling up inside.

“I was just wondering if he sleeps naked.”

“I have no idea if he sleeps naked. He would hardly answer the door that way.”

She nodded in thought. “That’s a good point. Oh, crap, I have to get Amber up for school.”

“Okay, I need a shower anyway. I still smell like coffee. And I need to run by Super Dog sometime today. Don’t let me forget.” I headed for the bathroom.

“You got it. Oh,” Cookie said, pausing at the door, “I meant to tell you, I borrowed a can of coffee from the office.”

I stopped and hit her with my best glower of astonished disappointment. “You stole a can of coffee from the office?”

“I borrowed a can of coffee from the office. I’ll buy another with my next paycheck.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Charley…”

“Just kidding. Don’t worry about it,” I said with a wave of my hand. “It’s not like I pay for the stuff.”

She had started out the door but stopped again. “What?”

“The coffee. I don’t actually pay for it.”

“Where do you get it?”

“I swipe it from Dad’s storeroom.” When she flashed me a look of shock and disapproval, mostly disapproval, I held up my hands and did the time-out gesture. “Hold up there, missy. I solved cases for that man for years. The least he can do is provide me with a cup o’ joe every now and then.”