Knead Some Space

by Harley Gordon

  Novah laughed. “At least eleven. I still need help sometimes.”

  “This whole thing is starting to make me wonder.”

  “Wonder what?”

  “That maybe you’re not as wrong as I’ve always believed you are.”

  Novah was grateful Talia said wrong instead of crazy. She’d already heard that enough in her life. She was glad her closest friend was able o disagree with her without doubting her sanity or intelligence.

  Talia frowned at the door Agent Smith disappeared through. “I think I might make some calls. I still have friends from my time in the service who went into law enforcement. Just because Rachel played around with hacking laws doesn’t mean she needs to be investigated after she’s dead especially when it wasn’t a suspicious death.”

  “Unless it is, and they’re keeping a lid on it for some reason.”

  “This time, your theory might be right. Something’s going on. And he’s incredibly shady.”

  “No arguments here.”

  None at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Novah cringed at the funeral dirge playing on the organ. It was the one thing Rachel’s brother had insisted on for the service, saying it was tradition in their family.

  Which Novah would’ve checked with Rachel about, but Novah hadn’t seen her ghost friend since the night she disappeared from the roof three days ago.

  For three days, life went back to normal. Rachel didn’t visit again with mysterious and vague comments, and Novah didn’t see the slightest glimpse of Agent Smith. She went to work, looked into chupacabras, and planned Rachel’s funeral with very little help from her strange brother, Rogelio.

  He was nice enough, but there was something shady about him. He only lived an hour away and it still took him two days to arrive and he had given control over all the decisions to Novah.

  She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he just wasn’t good at planning, or he was too stricken by grief, but he seemed oddly uncaring that his sister was dead.

  He claimed it was because they hadn’t seen each other in years and had never been close, but Novah wasn’t close to her family either and she’d still be upset if she got the call that one of them had died.

  Maybe more so because it would have meant there was no more time to reconcile or get any kind of closure.

  She was a little surprised he even bothered coming at all since he cared so little about the funeral.

  At least until the call from the lawyer came. Then, he was suddenly a little more animated.

  Novah was merely confused. The lawyer wanted to meet with her as well. A meeting scheduled for an hour after the wake she was holding at her donut shop. She had no idea what the lawyer possibly needed her for and Rogelio hadn’t looked too pleased when he told her about it.

  His emotions were hard to read — all over the place. He went from sad to guilty to jealous to angry to numb in the span of minutes, over and over again.

  She had to keep her wall up constantly around him, not able to handle his strange feelings. It was exhausting and she tried to minimize their contact as much as possible, using Talia as a buffer between them.

  Here at the funeral was even harder. So many strong emotions and so much pain in one small chapel was too much for Novah to block out completely. Something always snuck through her barriers. They poked and prodded at her shields, leaking grief and disappointment into her, overpowering her own confusion and pain.

  Sweat broke out on the back of her neck as she tried to combat it, not a word spoken by the priest registering in her brain. What felt like needles stabbed her temples and chest as she tried the yoga breathing exercises she learned from DVDs she checked out from the library. It helped a little, taking the edge off, giving her enough time to plug in a few of the leaking holes.

  Talia leaned over and whispered, “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure? You’re sweating.”

  “I’m just not feeling well.”

  “Ew.” Talia scooted over a few inches away from Novah, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

  Novah rolled her eyes. She wasn’t contagious, but she didn’t have a way to explain what was really going on.

  She really needed to get it together since stupid Agent Smith decided to attend the funeral. He’d finally been leaving her alone and she wanted to keep it that way.

  The funeral wrapped up, and Novah hurried from the chapel, needing the relief of the dry, hot air outside before all these same people came to her shop and there was no escaping it.

  She needed to get a complete block back in place so she could eavesdrop on all these people she didn’t know who showed up to the memorial. Novah had placed an obituary in the local paper, naming the time and place of the memorial. Rachel knew a lot more people than Novah realized.

  She’d expected it to end up being mostly her paranormal group, Rogelio, and Thalia at the funeral. Instead, at least twenty others attended.

  If it wasn’t a chupacabra that killed Rachel, maybe it was one of the strangers who came to her funeral.

  Novah was still struggling with accepting the idea of a vampire being the murderer. Especially since there hadn’t been any more animal attacks. And according to the news, the animal who allegedly attacked Rachel hadn’t been identified yet.

  Dorothy joined her on the front steps of the chapel. “How are you holding up?”

  Novah forced a smile at the purple-haired woman in a fitted black dress. “Just a little overwhelming in there.”

  “She had a nice turnout. Much better than I expected.”

  Novah nodded. “I was surprised too. I hope I have enough food.”

  “You do. Everyone will bring casseroles too. I already dropped off two.”

  Novah snorted. “What is it about funerals and casseroles? They’re so depressing.”

  Dorothy shrugged. “Tradition, I suppose. And people suck at grief. They don’t know what to say to the bereaved. They want to help, but don’t know how. So they make casseroles and pat themselves on the back for a job well done.”

  “I’m never making another casserole for a grieving family again.” Novah thought they were disgusting and cliche.

  Dorothy snickered. “Oh, you will. Most of us recognize the ridiculousness of it, but if you don’t, you’re rude and have no class. It’s a classic lose/lose situation.”

  Novah shook her head with a sigh. “I really don’t understand social rules.”

  “I know you don’t, which is why I adore you.”

  Novah chuckled, basking in the uncomplicated affection and mischief pulsing from Dorothy. She was always such a peaceful presence for Novah to spend time with, rarely letting negative emotions take over.

  The doors opened behind them, and Rogelio emerged.

  Novah shot him a sad smile, hurriedly erecting her barriers again, unable to stand feeling what he felt again.

  He eyed them with a speculative look on his face. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Just got a little overheated in there.”

  “Huh. I thought it was a little on the chilly side.”

  “I usually run hot, so it’s not surprising.” Novah hid a wince at her awkward small talk with a man who made her incredibly uneasy.

  “So, now we go to your donut store for the wake?”

  “Yes.”

  Since Rachel asked to be cremated, there wasn’t a gravesite service for Novah to suffer through, thank goodness. Ghosts saw graveyards as popular hangout spots and Novah didn’t have the emotional capacity to handle it that day.

  “If you need a ride, you can come with me,” Dorothy offered.

  Rogelio hesitated. “Uh, sure. Thanks. Better than paying for another ride, I guess.”

  “Definitely. There’s no reason you should have to call a cab today of all days. Come on. Novah, we’ll meet you there. You better hurry so you get there before everyone else does.”

  “Right. Crap. See you there.”

  Chapter
Eleven

  Novah wanted all these people out of her shop. With their sticky emotions and nosy questions about Rachel’s death and the conspiracies bouncing around, it was all too much.

  It didn’t help that Rachel and Samantha both showed up and kept talking to Novah, making it hard for her to concentrate on her barriers and on eavesdropping on all the gossip about Rachel.

  “You know you should let us do the spying, right?” Rachel asked. “No one else can see us. We’ll let you know if we hear anything suspicious.”

  Novah turned around so her back was to everyone and kept her voice so low it was barely audible. “That’s fine for you, but I don’t want Samantha trying to find a murderer. She’s only ten.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “She’s actually close to your age. She died over fifteen years ago. She can handle it.”

  She may have been a ghost for a long time, but she didn’t mature or age. She was still stuck at ten maturity wise. Just a little smarter than most ten-year-olds.

  But Samantha was pouting, finally excited about being out of the house.

  Novah sighed. “Fine.”

  Rachel eyed her with concern. “You should take a break. I know how much this has to be messing with you. I’m doubly glad I wasn’t an empath.”

  “Thankfully, the meeting with the lawyer is soon. Want to clue me in on that? What I should expect going in there?” Novah narrowed her eyes on the frustrating ghost.

  Rachel winked. “Nope. I think it’ll be better as a surprise. I don’t want you going in there with any preconceived notions.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You’ll see. You know, I think I’m enjoying being dead and watching things play out from the sidelines. It’s a lot less scary.”

  “For you, maybe,” Novah grumbled.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger. I just want to make sure you have the information you need and that Agent doesn’t. Speaking of which, he has been watching you the whole time. I don’t know if he suspects you of something, or if he wants to rip all your clothes off, but you need to be careful. It looks like you’re staring at the wall from where he’s standing. Now, Sam and I are going to go snoop. I want to see if I can find out why Martha didn’t show her ugly face to my wake after being late to my funeral.”

  “Who’s Martha?” Novah remembered the woman who tiptoed in a few minutes after the organ started playing.

  She looked like she was around Rachel’s age, white, uncomfortable, with bright maroon hair.

  “You’ll find out later, I’m sure.”

  Novah glared at the wall before plastering a fake, sad smile on her face and turned to face her crowded shop. It was hard to actually grieve and feel sad when Rachel was still around for Novah.

  And Agent Smith was watching her. She could tell even through his stupid sunglasses he still had on, even though it was a little overcast outside.

  He looked like such a smug jerk.

  Novah looked away from him, looking for Talia or Dorothy. She needed their calming presence since it probably was against social rules to kick everyone out of the wake twenty minutes into it.

  Her shop was never so crowded at one time and she did not like it. Which probably made her a horrible business owner. Maybe if everyone wasn’t so focused on the loss of Rachel, the grief wouldn’t be pushing at Novah so hard. It was easier to ignore a myriad of emotions than it was to ignore a lot of people feeling the same thing. It became more powerful em mass like that, morphing into a swirling force of anger or sadness or guilt or love.

  After almost thirty years of living this way, she should’ve had a better way to deal with it, but it was all she had.

  At least she was able to filter out enough of it to have a relatively regular life. She wasn’t stuck hiding in her apartment, never around people.

  But it made relationships and friendships hard since she always knew what they were feeling about her. Every little annoyance and angry or negative thought made themselves known, making her self-conscious and insecure.

  If she could ever figure out how to way to block it completely, maybe her life could be the slightest bit more normal.

  Novah turned to the window, staring out at the streets, needing a moment, before returning to the hostess duties she’d already been ignoring. There wasn’t much she needed to do. The food was out, coffee was flowing, and everyone was pretty much helping themselves.

  She eyed the crowd through the reflection of the window, paying special attention to Agent Smith, who seemed to be staring right at Rachel.

  Novah broke out in a sweat again.

  Could he see her?

  Did he hear her the other day in her apartment?

  Is that how he found the files? Because he heard Rachel say exactly where they were?

  If it was true, it meant he knew her secret.

  But if he knew, why hadn’t he approached her about it?

  She was probably just paranoid because something about him didn’t make sense and his presence made her so nervous.

  Rachel would have known if he could see her. If he was one of them.

  Though Rachel was still keeping a lot of things close to her chest, refusing to reveal anything, seeming to want to keep playing some kind of paranoid game.

  It was all starting to exhaust Novah a little bit.

  Dorothy sidled up next to Novah. “I have something for you.”

  “Oh?”

  Dorothy swept a glance around the shop before answering. “Yeah. I might have gotten my hands on a piece of evidence you might find interesting.”

  “About Rachel’s death?”

  “Yes.”

  “What evidence?” Novah asked.

  “Her autopsy report.”

  Chapter Twelve

  There still hadn’t been time for Novah to look over the autopsy report Dorothy had slipped her. It was burning a hole in Novah’s purse, driving her right to the edge with nerves and anxiety.

  If anyone caught her with hacked police materials, she’d be in major trouble. Agent Smith was already on her tail, she didn’t want to take the chance he’d find it in her possession.

  She just needed to get this meeting at the lawyer’s office over with and then get home to read and then destroy it.

  Great. This entire experience had made her as paranoid as Rachel.

  In the end, it hadn’t helped keep her alive.

  No matter how much Rachel hid and how careful she’d tried to be, something or someone had still gotten to her.

  “Mr. Diaz? Ms. Miller? Mr. Dennis is ready for you.”

  Novah blinked, the waiting area coming back into focus as the lawyer’s assistant smiled at her and Rachel’s brother.

  She rose from her seat and gestured for Rogelio to go ahead of her into the office. He held the door for her and the awkward dance continued between them.

  The entire time they’d waited for the lawyer to call them in, they’d avoided each other’s eyes and pretended to be engrossed in the out of date magazines scattered on the coffee table.

  They’d already exhausted all their small talk planning for the funeral, the rest of the time they’d tried to avoid each other, but alone in the waiting room, they reached peak awkwardness.

  Hopefully, this appointment would end quickly and she could get out of there and back home. She was worried about Samantha who had disappeared before the wake was over and hadn’t come back to report any intel she’d overheard.

  Mr. Dennis stood from his spot behind his desk when they stepped into his office and gestured at the chairs across from him. “Thank you for coming. Have a seat.”

  Novah took the left chair, leaving the middle or right for Rogelio.

  He took the right.

  “We’re missing one person, but she’s running late, so we’ll start without her.”

  Rogelio frowned. “Who else are we missing? You didn’t mention anyone else when we spoke on the phone.”

  “Martha Arthurs. It was a
last minute discovery I found after I spoke to you. I got in touch with her yesterday finally and she should be here soon.”

  “Ah.” Rogelio nodded, like he knew who Martha was.

  Novah still didn’t know who this mysterious woman was since they hadn’t had a chance to talk during the wake. Martha had disappeared before Novah had the chance to question her.

  Mr. Dennis fiddled with the papers on his desk. “Let’s get started, shall we? Ms. Arthurs doesn’t need to be here for this first part.”

  “Which is what, exactly?” Novah asked. “I’m confused over why I’m here.”

  “You were named in Rachel Diaz’s will.”

  Novah jerked back. “What? Did she say why?”

  Mr. Dennis shook his head. “No. And it wasn’t my place to ask. I just recorded her desires.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, Ms. Diaz left the majority of her belongings to you, Mr. Diaz. The money in her accounts went to a charity she preferred remains unnamed. But there are several sentimental pieces she specifically wanted you to have that might also have some monetary value.”

  “I see. What specific items are you talking about?” Rogelio sat forward in his seat, a wave of greed and anger radiating from him.

  Mr. Dennis handed a sheet of paper to Rogelio. “Here’s a list of the ones she thought would interest you most. Of course, you get almost everything in her apartment and her two storage sheds, so you should have plenty to go through.”

  Rogelio stared down at the paper with a frustrated expression on his face. “All right.”

  “And Ms. Miller, she left you her entire collection of books. Since she knew how much you enjoy the written word, she wanted her books to go to someone who would appreciate them.”

  So, that was how Rachel set it up that Novah would get the cipher.

  Brilliant.

  “Oh. That was so sweet of her.” Novah didn’t really know what to say.

  Rogelio interrupted them. “Are there any books worth money?”

  “Not that she mentioned to me. I doubt it. Books are actually rarely worth much unless they’re in pristine condition and finding an old book without dents and marks and imperfections is nearly impossible.”