by Gwen Gardner
Crap! Psychometry gone wrong. Again. Or right, depending on how you looked at it.
“Blimey,” Cappy breathed out. “What the ‘ell is that?”
“Burned,” said Simon, “from the car. That psycho thing she does.”
“Psychometry,” I mumbled, glaring up at him.
“Come on, let’s get her up,” said Badger. “How are you feeling now?”
“Fantastic. Thanks for asking,” I said sarcastically. I stood, albeit a little wobbly.
“Maybe you should lean against the car until you feel better,” said Cappy.
“No!” I said in a panic. And then more calmly, “N-no. Not a good idea.” I held my hands up. “I have no desire for this to cover my body.”
“Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’,” said Cappy. “Uh, do ya think I could borrow that napkin?” I followed his glance to his shoes, covered in chunks of my breakfast.
“Sure,” I said, handing him the napkin. “Sorry about that. I, uh, don’t have much control when this thing happens.”
Badger snorted. “Yeah, trust me. You’ve just been initiated into the club.”
I tried to glare, but it hurt too much.
“Let’s get her out of here,” said Simon.
With Simon and Badger on either side of me, we started away, followed by Cappy and Riley.
“Wait!” I said. “In the back seat – Bryan’s teddy bear.” After all that, I may as well get what I had been going after in the first place.
Cappy reached through the broken back window and retrieved it, zipping it inside his jacket.
We arrived back at the Blind Badger without any further mishaps, sneaking in through the back. I ran my hands under cold water in the bathroom. Badger went for the first aid kit.
“Let me see,” said Riley, when I joined them in the snug. She turned my palms face up. Angry red cuts and blisters. She gasped, then muttered, “Bloody hell.”
“Here, let’s put some of this on.” Badger gently dabbed burn cream on my palms while I held my breath against the pain. Then he wrapped both hands gently in gauze.
“You’re really pale,” said Riley. “It must be so painful.”
Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden. I prayed I wouldn’t start bawling. I managed a nod and a weak smile.
“Here, take these.” Badger handed me two paracetamol and a glass of water.
I fumbled the aspirins onto my fingertips and managed to get them down. I shivered, more from shock than the cold, but Cappy noticed and built a fire.
“I’ll get food,” said Riley, leaving the snug, “and coffee,” she yelled back over her shoulder.
I sat shaking while Badger and Simon watched in concern.
“Maybe we should take her to the hospital,” suggested Badger.
I shook my head. “N-no. I’ll b-be okay.”
He looked at me skeptically.
“H-how would I explain it? The s-scars? T-they’ll think I’m a c-cutter or b-burner or ab-bused.”
He sighed in frustration.
Yeah. That’s what it’s like to me be.
Riley came back five minutes later with a plate of burgers and chips. Having rid myself of breakfast earlier, I scarfed it down. Of course, the burgers were a treat for us all.
I felt much better after eating and the gang waited anxiously to hear about my ‘psycho’ thing.
“I saw the teddy bear in the back seat. Bryan’s teddy bear.” I turned to Simon. “I think that’s why Bryan is here. He showed up on the third anniversary of his death because he wants his teddy bear.”
“Yeah, but why now?” asked Simon. “Why three years later?”
“I think, that time is different there. Not so long, you know? Three years to him might be like three days or three hours.”
He sat quietly for a minute, thinking about the possibility of difference in time between dimensions.
“Yeah, I think you may be right.” Simon picked up the teddy bear next to him. “And somehow, the anniversary triggered his memory of the bear.”
I nodded.
“That’s amazing,” said Riley. “There’s so much more to this world than we realize.”
“That’s not all,” I said. “I touched the car when I bent in for the bear and had a vision. That’s how this happened.” I held up my hands. “The violence involved in the accident burned my hands. But here’s the thing…”
They leaned in to hear.
“More than one vehicle was involved.”
“Do you mean they were ‘it by more than one car?” asked Cappy.
“Yes. But, I couldn’t see the color or kind of vehicles being driven.”
I explained that both cars stopped, the drivers looked inside Amanda’s car, and then took off.
“Blimey,” said Simon. “This complicates things a bit.”
“At least we know that one of the cars belonged to Mrs. Cuttle,” said Badger.
“But the question is,” said Cappy, “was she the first car or the second one?”
I understood what Cappy implied at once. If someone else hit Simon’s car first, then Aunt Amanda and Bryan may already have been dead when Mrs. Cuttle hit them. She said they were dead, but she couldn’t get a good look at Simon. Or, she could have been the one to finish them off if they weren’t already dead.
I voiced the implication out loud. “So Mrs. Cuttle may or may not have been driving the car that killed them.”
“Or,” said Simon, “she may have hit our car because it blocked the road after being hit by the first car. She couldn’t see well in the first place, and that, combined with the dark and alcohol…”
“Even if she hadn’t been drinking and half blind, she probably would have hit the car anyway,” I added.
“It would ‘ave been unavoidable,” added Cappy.
I sighed. “So how do we figure this out?”
“There’s still the paint chip forensics,” said Riley. “Any idea when we’ll get the results?”
Simon shook his head. “No. Soon, though.”
I lifted my coffee mug to my lips with both hands. Painful, but do-able. Adrenaline kept me going for several hours, but after divulging all my information and throwing around possible ideas, I drained like an over-used battery. “I can’t think any more today,” I said. “Let’s meet tomorrow and figure out the next step.” I looked over at Simon. “After you’ve called your friend in forensics to get an idea of when to expect the test results.”
“Good idea. Come on,” he said, pulling me up by the arms. “Let’s get you home. And pray for a quiet night.”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Please do pray for a quiet night,” I said to the others. “All I need is a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep and some quality time with my pillow.”
As we readied to leave, someone’s cell phone pinged into the room. Since all my friends were there in the snug, I knew it couldn’t be mine. I watched while the others scrambled to check their text messages.
“It’s mine,” said Simon. He tapped the screen. “It’s from Kelli, my friend from the lab.” He looked pointedly at Riley, as if tired of secrets and he wanted her to know his friend’s name.
The energy in the room became electric as we waited for news about the forensics. I held my breath. This is what we’d been waiting for so impatiently. Simon’s eyes quickly scanned the message.
“Well?” said Riley. “What’s it say?”
But Simon didn’t need to say anything for us to recognize bad news. Disappointment etched every line in his face.
“The paint chips on Scott Durdle’s van…they didn’t match. And neither did the chips from the police car.” He snapped his phone shut and tucked it into his pocket.
A collective groan filled the room. With Scott Durdle and Michael Potter no longer suspects, our chances of solving this case became slim.
“Simon—” I began “—we’re going to figure this out—”
But Simon didn’t want a pep talk. “Let’s go.” He tucked the teddy bear i
nside his jacket to keep it dry on the walk home and strode out of the snug.
“I’ll go,” said Riley. She ran after him.
Getting into my jacket with burned hands proved to be a struggle. Badger pitched in to help. He started to follow me out, but I waved him back down. “No worries, I’ll catch up to him.”
I started across the market square, when movement to the left caught my eye. Simon and Riley, locked in a tight embrace. They broke apart when I headed toward them.
“All right?” I said.
He nodded and turned to Riley, giving her a quick parting hug. But Riley grabbed his face between her hands and planted one on him. Then she nodded to me and walked off. Simon stared after her speechlessly.
I sighed. The girl had guts. Riley wasn’t going to hide her feelings from her brother, no matter how displeased he might be. But I worried about Simon.
“Come on, Romeo.” I linked my arm through his. “It’s time for our next adventure, which should be a whole lot safer than the one I just witnessed.”
“I like her, Indigo. I mean I really like her. I thought you’d understand.”
“I do. I really do, Simon. I’m worried about Badger and your friendship with him.” And my friendship—or whatever— with Badger, because if battle lines were drawn, I’d be on Simon’s side of the abyss.
I shook my head. We had a lot to do. We still had a chance of getting Bryan to cross over – or go back – to Heaven, once he had the bear in his arms. Then I would pray hard that all the spirits Franny brought in would go back where they came from.
Bryan was a shy little ghostie. Perhaps too shy to tell me what he wanted. Maybe once here, he decided he missed it and wanted to stay. Wanted to visit his dad and Simon, and watch television. Perhaps he even knew Franny when he lived and missed her as well. The reasons for his being here, or remaining here, could be endless.
We arrived home, entering through the kitchen at the back of the house. Simon unzipped his jacket and pulled the teddy bear out. Well loved, it had brown matted fur and wore a crooked smile due to missing stitches from its mouth. The button eyes were a warm brown.
“I guess this is it,” said Simon.
“I guess so,” I responded.
He handed the bear to me.
“Does he have a name?” I asked.
“Uh, yeah.” He shuffled his feet, reluctant to part with it. “Simon.”
“Simon? His name is Simon?” A shiver travelled my spine.
“Yeah. After me.”
“That’s sweet.” Something niggled at me as I stared at the well-loved bear.
“He always wanted to go with me, follow me around, but he couldn’t. Or I wouldn’t let him, I mean.” Sadness poured from his eyes, along with regret. “So I bought him the bear for his second birthday and told him its name was Simon. So he’d always have me there.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “That is just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight.
He hugged me back. “I wish I had spent more time with him, not been so mean.”
“Don’t Simon. Don’t torture yourself.” I kissed his cheek and hugged him again. “You were typical brothers. How could you know you’d lose him too soon? You couldn’t have known. He should have lived a long life and grown up to be a pain in your arse.”
I loved to use the British word for butt, and he knew it. He laughed and swiped at his damp eyes.
It all made sense now. Bryan missed both of his Simons. A typical little brother, he hero worshipped Simon and always wanted to be with him. Always wanted his attention, however he could get it, even if it meant teasing and being a general pain in the butt.
We walked through the house looking for Bryan, calling his name. I heard him giggling, moving further away whenever we got close.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” called Simon in a sing-song voice.
More giggles.
“Bryan, where are you?” I called. Childish giggles drifted down the staircase. We headed upstairs. A blur zipped around the corner, and a tiny voice yelled, “Come find me!”
A door slammed upstairs.
I sighed. We’d have to play first if we wanted to speak with Bryan.
At the top of the landing, I went down the hall and opened the door to my room. Franny sat in the rocking armchair knitting. She glanced up briefly and smiled.
“Hello, Dear. He isn’t here.”
I closed the door and followed Simon down the hall to his bedroom. He opened the door and we walked in.
“Bryan? Are you in here?” called Simon.
I looked under the bed and in the closet. Ridiculous, of course, because Bryan could disappear at will. If he didn’t want to be found, we’d have to wait until he was ready.
More childish laughter came from the hall and drifted back downstairs again. We followed.
Dealing with spirits took time and patience. They could be quite stubborn when the notion took them. And since they didn’t have a sense of time in the same way we do, they never got the sense of running out of time. Bryan could have played hide-and-seek twenty-four-seven, if we were willing.
Which we weren’t.
Time to bring out the ammunition.
That’s right. Simon the teddy bear just became our hostage.
We went back to the living room and sat on the sofa.
“Bryan!” I called. “Look who I have here.” I hugged the bear in my arms.
Bryan popped in, yelling, “Simon! My Simon!” He reached for the bear, but I held it up.
“First,” I said, “I need to talk to you about something very important. Will you help me?”
He nodded, his eyes big and wide with seriousness. Because teddy bears were serious business.
“All right, then.”
I handed the bear to him which he hugged tightly, plugging his mouth with his thumb in content.
“Sit here between me and Simon – brother Simon – so we can talk to you.”
He hopped onto the couch. The watcher spirits faded in to listen.
“Do you remember the accident?” I asked. “The one when you and Mummy went to heaven?”
He nodded and unplugged his mouth long enough to say, “I died.”
“Yes, you did die sweetie. And Simon and Daddy want to know who caused you and Mummy to die. Do you remember the car that hit you? Or the people who looked in the car at you?”
He nodded. “He smelt funny an’ he walked wobbly, like this.” He jumped off the sofa to demonstrate someone who weaved like a drunken sailor.
Simon and I exchanged glances. Two people that we know of were drunk and in the area. It couldn’t be Scott Durdle, the blue paint chips didn’t match. And Jason Krepp drove…
“What kind of car did he drive?” I asked Bryan.
“A twuck. It went brrum, brrum.” The little dude tried really hard to help us.
“Do you know your colors, Bryan?” I asked.
“Of course, he does,” said Simon. “I helped teach him.”
“Well, he is a very big boy,” I said. “So can you tell me the color of the van? The van that stopped?”
“White!” he answered triumphantly, jumping on the sofa.
Simon and I stared at each other wide-eyed.
“I’ll bet you don’t remember the color of his hair, though,” I said, making a game of it.
“Lello!” he yelled. “Like Simon,” he said, pointing at Simon’s hair color, “and me.”
“Thank you, Bryan. You have helped us so much!”
He beamed and turned the television on.
Simon and I went into the kitchen to speak in private.
“Jason Krepp,” I said. “White van, blond hair, drunk, and in the area.”
“Yeah, but how can that be?” said Simon. “We’re looking for a blue vehicle.”
I thought for a minute, when a tingle crept up my spine. I gasped as a moment of clarity popped into my head. “Not necessarily.”
&
nbsp; “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we already know two vehicles were involved. Your mom’s car is white. If Jason hit your car before Sadie did…”
“…then the white paint from his van is under the blue paint and virtually undetectable,” Simon finished for me. “I’ll kill him,” Simon burst out. “He bloody well knew he killed my mum and Bryan for three years! Three bloody awful long years!”
He yanked his coat off a peg and stormed out the door.
“Oh crap!” I muttered to myself, digging my cell phone out of my pocket. With shaking fingers, I pushed number one to speed-dial Badger.
“Hiya,” he answered, cheerfully.
“Badger, I need help!”
“What is it?” He responded immediately to the urgency in my voice.
“Jason Krepp. Simon is on his way over there to kill him. You have to stop him.”
“What? Why would he…”
“He’s the killer.”
Chapter Twenty
Bloody Bastard
I snapped the phone shut and hurtled through the door after Simon. Despite my quickness, Simon disappeared. Fear lent me wings as I flew down the street toward Jason’s house. Fear that Simon would kill Jason and go to prison for the rest of his life. Fear of more lives lost or ruined because of a senseless act. Two blocks down, I rounded a curve to see Simon shoot up Jason’s driveway and bang on the door. I stepped into the yard just as the door opened. Simon gripped Jason by the shirt-front and yanked him out of the house, slinging him onto the winter-dead lawn.
Jason scrabbled backward on all fours, like a crab. “What the fu…” He didn’t have a chance to finish as Simon hauled him to his feet.
“Simon!” I screamed. “Simon, stop, please!” I grabbed him by his left arm, the one holding onto Jason’s shirt. It had no effect. He pulled his right arm back and planted a fist into Jason’s face. Jason reeled backward, but kept his balance. Blood spurted from his nose, spraying all three of us like a shaken soda pop. Jason swung back. His long, skinny arm connected with Simon’s shoulder. Simon shook it off and came back at Jason like a tenacious bulldog.
