I collapsed on the edge of the curb, heedless of the cars whipping by, and held my head in my hands as I tried to process this revelation. Why am I dead? I wondered bleakly. What happened? Why don’t I remember? I’m not hurt so who or what killed me? Another demon lord? Mrs. Phipps? I dismissed that idea immediately and then reluctantly brought it back. She was acting very strange when I found her. What did she do to me?
I twisted around and looked up at the library. It was a lot less ominous in the daylight but I shivered anyway. I died in there, I told myself. Is my body still in there? No, Cruz would have called the coroner’s office. Unless she’s dead too. I slowly got to my feet. I’m going to have to go inside and look.
I had to force myself to take the first step, reluctant to confirm the truth of my demise. I made my way across the parking lot and up the steps. I reached out tentatively and rested my palm against one of the doors. It felt solid but I’d seen Olivia do this a thousand times before. I took a deep breath – Do I even need to breathe now? – closed my eyes, and stepped forward.
The door resisted my passage, like I was pushing through a thick layer of curtains, and I was suddenly afraid of getting stuck inside it for the rest of eternity. I frantically shoved myself through, stumbling when the pressure abruptly vanished, and found myself standing in the library’s foyer.
“Cruz?” I called anxiously. If she’s a ghost too, I told myself, I’m probably going to scream like a little girl. My voice didn’t echo at all and there was no response. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.
My footsteps were silent as I crossed the Great Seal of Texas embedded in the floor, barely visible in the dim light from the windows overhead. The hallway leading down towards Mrs. Kendricks’ office was deserted but I kept my head on a swivel as I started down, searching for any sign of life. Or death, I amended uneasily.
I got about halfway down before another thought percolated through my brain. There’s no crime scene tape or stuff, I realized. They must not know I’m dead yet. Or maybe, I stopped with a sinking sensation in my gut, maybe it’s all over. Maybe I’m already six feet under. I tried to imagine Mom and Dad and Susie standing under umbrellas in the rain, weeping as my casket was lowered into the ground, but it was impossible. It never rained in Hellburn during the summer and Susie never cried.
Except that once, I reminded myself, after Bellaxragor killed me. Deciding which experience was weirder, being a ghost for the first time or seeing tears on Susie’s face, was a bit of a coin flip. Fortunately, the Philosopher’s Stone brought me back to life a few minutes later so it was all moot.
Until now, I sighed. I hope she doesn’t cry this time. I got three steps further down the hall before I gasped and slapped my chest. The Stone!
I yanked the chain over my head and held up the Stone, gaping in dismay. It was completely dark, with no hint of its normal ruby glow. “Oh, no!” I moaned. “No no no! You’re supposed to keep me alive! What happened?”
I shook the Stone, listening carefully, as if it was a lightbulb with a burnt-out filament, but it was absolutely silent and unresponsive. My shoulders sagged in resignation and I almost let the chain slip out through my fingers, but I looped it back over my head and let the Stone fall against my chest.
Now what? I wondered bleakly. This is it, I’m really dead. I looked up to the ceiling but the heavenly choir I heard beckoning me after my first death was curiously silent. What’s going to happen to me now? Am I stuck here like Olivia? What’s Melissa going to do when she finds out? What about Dara?
That last thought hurt a lot more than the others. Dara’s here because of me. She defied her Dread Lord because of me. The witches agreed to leave her alone because of me. Now she’s on her own. Who’s going to take care of her now? I wiped at my eyes but apparently ghosts couldn’t produce tears.
I’m so sorry, Dara, I told her, wherever she was. I screwed up. I shouldn’t have tried to arrest Mrs. Phipps by myself. I should have called Cruz. She would have stopped her from doing – whatever she did. I paused. What did she do? How could she possibly have killed me and kept the Stone from reviving me? She’s not a demon lord. Or is she?
I eyed the door to Mrs. Kendricks’ office, just a short distance away. It was closed now. Maybe that wasn’t Mrs. Phipps, I mused. Maybe it was a demon disguised as her for some reason. But why was she – it – ransacking Mrs. Kendricks’ desk? That doesn’t make any sense.
I steeled myself before pushing my head through the door, looking around cautiously before stepping all the way in. My body wasn’t lying there on the floor, which was a bit of a relief, and there were no bloodstains on the carpet that I could discern. In fact, the office looked spotless. All of the junk that had been scattered across Mrs. Kendricks’ desk was gone and the satchel was nowhere to be seen.
Did Mrs. Phipps put it all away before she left, I wondered, or did the police take it as evidence? I still had no idea how long ago I died and with my phone out of commission I wasn’t sure I could even figure out what day it was.
If it’s still the same day I died, I reasoned slowly, then where’s my body and where’s Cruz? If Mrs. Phipps killed us both, then she either hid our bodies somewhere inside the library or she took them away in the patrol car and dumped them somewhere. The fact that Mrs. Phipps was way too old to be carting bodies around weakened my theory but if she was actually a demon in disguise, that shouldn’t have been a problem.
If Cruz is still alive, I went on, she would have called for backup and this place would be crawling with police. So either she’s dead too or it all happened a while ago. The only way to know for sure was to find her, one way or the other. Or figure out what the date is, I reminded myself.
I looked around for any hints but the calendar on the wall showed June, when the library closed down for repairs. Mrs. Kendricks’ computer could tell me the date but it was powered off and my incorporeal finger couldn’t activate the power switch. I wondered if I would eventually become a poltergeist like Olivia or whether I was stuck being useless for the rest of eternity.
That was way too depressing to think about, so I began a methodical search of the library, looking for any sign of my body or Cruz’s. It took me a while to stop reaching for the doorknobs but at least the locked rooms couldn’t keep me out anymore. Eventually, I stopped poking my head through the doors to check inside and just walked from one room to the next through the walls. That sped the process up immensely but it still took a good half hour to cover all three floors. I ended up at the back door with absolutely nothing to show for it.
I stepped outside and surveyed the alley where I’d woken up. I eyed the dumpster but it was a crumpled mess oozing cardboard boxes and trash bags. There was no room in it for anything larger a severed head or a dismembered limb and the lack of blood anywhere argued against that possibility.
Okay, so either Mrs. Phipps disposed of our bodies somewhere else or somebody cleaned up after the police investigation, I told myself. How can I find out which? Check the cemetery for a shiny new headstone with my name on it?
I wasn’t ready to confront the physical confirmation of my death so I decided to check out the police station. Even if it was still Monday, it was well past the end of my shift with Cruz. Somebody there had to know what happened. At the very least, someone should be trying to find us.
I raised my left hand to activate Teleportal but nothing happened. I tried a couple more times but none of my spells appeared. The targeting reticle on my right hand was equally conspicuous by its absence. “Oh, come on!” I exclaimed in dismay. “Are you kidding me?”
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. It was bad enough being dead but losing the only thing that made me special was a bitter blow. Bemoaning my fate wasn’t going to help me uncover the circumstances of my death, though, so I sucked it up and started walking.
The Hellburn Police Department was only a mile or so west of the library but the hike seemed interminable. I had no interest in walking through
anyone so I made a wide berth around the few pedestrians I encountered. Crossing the streets was a bit nerve-wracking since none of the drivers slowed down for me. I knew they couldn’t hurt me but dodging out of the way of speeding vehicles was a hard habit to break.
On the plus side, the Texas heat didn’t affect me at all and I jogged up to the station entrance without breathing hard or feeling a single drop of sweat on my brow. Dad’s Jeep wasn’t in its usual spot, which meant it was Monday, since he had Sundays and Mondays off and there was too much traffic in the area for it to be the weekend.
Or he has a meeting with the mayor, I amended. Or he’s out looking for me. Or he’s searching for my killer. Or Mrs. Phipps came here after she left the library, killed everyone, and took his Jeep.
That train of thought was getting me nowhere. I checked the numbers on the two patrol cars sitting in the lot. Unit 105 was missing but that didn’t necessarily mean anything, since the patrol officers generally grabbed whatever unit was available at the start of their shifts.
That did remind of my own car, though, and I hurried around the corner of the building to the employee lot. My heart dropped into my stomach when I discovered my beautiful cherry red 2012 Ford Mustang GT was gone.
I stared at the empty space where I’d left it before joining Cruz on patrol. Its absence proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d been dead for a while. I had the only keys and no one would have had a reason to move it until after I was sent off to my eternal reward. I wondered if Dad gave it to Mom or just sold it.
The only reason I didn’t give up right then and there was that I had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. I certainly wasn’t ready to join the heavenly hosts just yet. If nothing else, I still wanted to find out what happened to me and Cruz. I let my breath out, straightened my shoulders, and walked back to the entrance.
Mrs. Burns – Rachel – sat at her usual post behind the desk in the lobby, typing away at her computer. She didn’t seem sad or worried, which confirmed my theory that I died a while back. I scanned the walls for clues to the date, but all I could find was a calendar of community events for July. That narrowed down the window to a couple of weeks, at least.
“Rachel?” I asked tentatively but she didn’t react. I was relieved, actually, since I didn’t know what I’d do if she screamed and ran off at hearing my disembodied voice. Instead, I continued through the locked doors into the station beyond.
The main hallway was empty and I looked both ways, trying to decide how I could discover what happened to me. I couldn’t look at the police records without the ability to use a keyboard and mouse, so I had to hope that someone either left something lying around or talked about me while I was standing there.
I started with Dad’s office, although it felt like I was invading his privacy. I ghosted through the door and scanned his desk, but it was devoid of any evidence. Framed photos of Mom, Susie, and me sat beside his monitor and I tried not to sigh. I’ll never see them again, I realized. Well, they’ll never see me again, anyway.
My next stop was Sergeant Finney’s office in the small jail at the back of the station. He wasn’t there and I wondered if he was outside smoking one of his cigars again. There were a few files scattered across his desk but all I could see were the case numbers on the tabs, which meant nothing to me. Then a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.
The jail had four small cells of the steel bar variety, each holding a low cot and a metal chair and not much else. They weren’t used for long-term incarceration – prisoners awaiting trial and sentencing were sent to Killeen or Fort Worth, depending on the severity of their crimes – but the person in the furthermost cell wasn’t a typical drunk sleeping it off.
“Mrs. Phipps?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
She started and fumbled for her glasses on the cot beside her, perching them on her nose as she peered around. She wore the same floral dress I remembered from Mrs. Kendricks’ office, but her hair was in disarray and she looked wan and shaky.
“Pardon me?” she asked, blinking at me. “Do I know you?”
“You attacked me in the library!”
“I beg your pardon, young man,” she retorted, sounding affronted. “I did no such thing.”
“I was there! You –” I stopped, my mind racing. Mrs. Phipps could see and hear ghosts, although she didn’t realize it. “What day is it today?” I asked eagerly.
“Excuse me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is this another one of those psychological tests? I’ve had quite enough of those today.”
“No, I just really need to know what day it is,” I assured her. “My, uh, watch is broken.”
“It’s Monday,” she said carefully.
“Monday the what?”
“The sixteenth.”
“The sixteenth? Of July? Are you sure?”
“Of course,” she sniffed. “I may be old but I still have all my faculties.”
“But that means –” It’s the same day, I thought, aghast. I died today. But why doesn’t anyone know? And where’s my car?
“Are you all right, young man?” Mrs. Phipps asked in concern. “You look very pale.”
That’s because I’m a ghost, thanks to you! “Don’t you remember what happened this morning?”
“Well, that sergeant person was very rude to me,” she huffed.
“No, before that, at the library. You were in Mrs. Kendricks’ office looking for something.”
“No, I wasn’t,” she insisted, but she sounded less confident.
“You were there,” I pressed. “I found you there.” She shook her head doubtfully. “What do you remember about last night?”
She hesitated. “Not very much, I’m afraid,” she confessed. “I went out for my usual walk before going to bed and then – and then a police officer was pointing a gun at me.”
“A female officer?” I asked hopefully. “Officer de la Cruz?
“I don’t know her name,” she said peevishly. “She was very curt with me.”
“Oh, thank God,” I breathed. Cruz was okay. “Do you remember seeing another officer with her, a man?”
“He looked more like a teenager,” she scoffed. “He was rude too.” She peered at me suspiciously. “In fact, he looked a lot like you. Are you related?”
“You could say that. And the two of them brought you here?” I asked. “They were both, um, alive?”
“Yes, of course,” she sighed forlornly. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Why am I here? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Didn’t Officer de la Cruz or Sergeant Finney explain the charges to you?” I couldn’t imagine either of them not following procedure.
“She said something about breaking and entering and resisting arrest but that’s ridiculous. I was just out for a walk.” She looked around her cell and shrank into herself. “I don’t know what to do.”
I studied her doubtfully. This frightened and feeble woman was nothing like the person who attacked me. This had magic written all over it. Mrs. Phipps and I were both victims of whatever happened in the library, except I was dead and she was just in jail. I definitely got the short end of the stick on this deal. “Did you call your lawyer?”
“Why would I need a lawyer?” she frowned.
“How about a family member?” I suggested. “They can arrange bail for you.” And maybe explain how getting arrested works.
“Mr. Phipps passed away ten years ago,” she said wistfully. “We never had any children.”
“Any friends, maybe?” She shook her head. “What about Mrs. Kendricks?”
“Mrs. Kendricks? Oh, no, I could never bother her.” She sounded like I wanted her to call the Governor for a pardon.
“It’s all right,” I assured her, “she won’t mind. She can help you get out of here. Okay?” I nodded and she slowly copied the motion. “Great, so just tell Sergeant Finney you want to call her when he gets back. Do you know her number?” She shook her head doubtfully. �
��No problem, he’ll be able to look it up for you.” I eyed the door, wondering how long I had before the Sergeant reappeared. The last thing Mrs. Phipps needed was to be found having a conversation with an invisible man. “I need to go. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Thank you, young man,” she told me, looking relieved. “You’re so much nicer than the other police officers.”
“They’re just doing their jobs, ma’am. Just relax and let Mrs. Kendricks take care of everything.”
“Thank you.” Her smile took years off her face. “And you should get out in the sunlight more.”
“I’ll get right on that,” I told her, trying very hard not to roll my eyes. “Good luck.”
I hurried out and nearly ran right through Sergeant Finney. He shivered and scowled at the nearest air conditioning vent before pushing his way into the jail. I heard Mrs. Phipps’ voice call out to him just before the door closed behind him. I let my breath out – metaphorically speaking, anyway – and considered what I just learned.
Okay, I was still alive when we brought Mrs. Phipps back here. If we went back out on patrol after booking her in, then we would have come back here at the end of the shift and I would have left in my car. I must have gone back to the library, I realized, but why? To get Susie’s stuff? That was plausible, except my car wasn’t there. Whoever killed me must have taken it. Ew, is my body in the trunk? That was an unpleasant thought, especially with the summer heat. Someone’s going to notice that pretty quick. But until then, nobody knows I’m dead, which means that no one’s looking for me.
That was a problem. If there was a demon running around Hellburn possessing people and killing policemen, we needed to find it and deal with it ASAP. It can’t be a demon lord, I mused, or Tara or one of the other witches would have sensed it. Except it broke my Philosopher’s Stone somehow and killed me, I reminded myself uneasily. That’s supposed to be impossible. I need to talk to Mrs. Kendricks. Except I couldn’t because I was dead.
Sudden Death Page 3
