by Amy Richie
The Death of a Suspect
Clearview Academy, Volume 2
Amy Richie
Published by Amy Richie, 2019.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE DEATH OF A SUSPECT
First edition. November 16, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Amy Richie.
Written by Amy Richie.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
**CONTINUED IN BOOK 3; THE DEATH OF A SWAN**
About the Author
For all the teens in my life, you have all given me valuable advice on what Avery and her friends would say.
This second book is dedicated to Kenzie, the first person to make me an aunt. You dance to the music of your own drum and I love that. Stay unique, stay you.
Chapter One
The ceiling above me kept going in and out of focus with my heavy breaths. I had been out at Jimmy Vale's cabin and then I had some weird vision and now I was in my bed again – all without my consent. Too much, this was all too much to handle.
"You're in your bed," I told myself over and over again. "You're safe in your own bed now."
It was no use though, my heart refused to slow down.
My thoughts continued to swirl around inside my head. Was that vision real? That must have been what happened to me that night. Someone chased me through the woods and then stabbed me.
Who would do that? And why was I alone out there?
My friends had all abandoned me, leaving me vulnerable for some maniac. I couldn't see the face of my killer. The bulky shadowed form could have been anyone.
Balling my hand into a fist, I rubbed violently at my stinging eyes. I was drunk that night but I must have known the person who stabbed me. They came right up and talked to me.
“Oh my word,” I whispered, rolling myself off the bed so I could crumple on the floor like a child who was hiding from the thunderstorms. The flashes of light always terrified me.
I was more scared now.
I had never been this scared in my entire life, even though I wasn't technically alive.
Unable to stop shaking, I got up from the floor and crossed my room to the vanity. I loved my vanity. Brushing my hair from my shoulders, I sank down onto the cushioned seat.
All I wanted to do was run down the hallway and crawl into bed with my parents, but that wasn't possible.
I pulled my tee shirt down just enough to inspect the scratches on my neck and chest. My breath caught, these were from the tree branches that night. As I ran my finger tip over the swollen and torn skin, flashes of the chase came back to me.
“Oh,” I sucked in a quick breath.
My shirt sprang back to place as soon as I let it go. The marks were still there, the proof that I had been attacked. There were no stab wounds; I didn't have the courage to try and figure out what that meant.
I didn't want to stay alone in my room but I couldn't go to Clark again, not after all we had said to each other. It only left one person, really...
LANEY WAS SITTING IN the middle of her bed when I landed in her room, a book was spread out on her lap and a pair of thick ugly glasses were perched at the end of her nose.
She didn't notice me lurking in the shadowed corner. At that moment, I actually felt like a ghost – I didn't like it.
I knew that I shouldn't even be in Laney's room. I had promised Clark that I wouldn't get her involved. But who else did I have?
"Laney," my voice cracked when I called her name.
She jumped at the sound, making her book bounce off her lap and land closed on the bed in front of her. "Avery," she chuckled. "You scared me."
"Sorry," I sniffed, attempting a smile.
Laney's eyes narrowed and she sat up straighter. "What's wrong with you?"
"Umm..." Blinking rapidly, I turned away from her.
"Did you and Clark find anything at the cabin?" she demanded. "I asked him where you were when he came back alone but he wouldn't say anything."
"We kind of got in a fight," I admitted in a husky voice.
"What about?"
I held up one hand. "It was nothing," I lied.
"I knew something was wrong," she hissed. "He's been acting funny all day."
"It was my fault." My face crumpled; I could no longer hold back my tears. "It was all my fault."
"My brother is not an easy person to get along with." Laney scooted up on her bed so she could drop her legs over the edge. "Don't cry because of him."
"It was so horrible," I sobbed. Never in my entire life had I ever cried so hard. I wasn't sure if it had anything to do with Clark or not.
"Let's go find him," Laney shot out. Her eyebrows twisted together angrily. "He shouldn't have fought with you, you're already going through enough."
"I don't want to find Clark, I don't want to talk to him right now. He just left me out there by myself."
"At the cabin?" I nodded mutely. "He agreed to help you look for clues."
Seeing Laney angry on my behalf made me cry all the harder. It took several moments before I could talk again. "I saw something out there."
"You found something?"
"I didn't find anything," I shook my head. "I had a vision or something. I remember what happened to me."
Laney's scowl disappeared, replaced quickly by a look of concern. "What," she breathed out.
"I didn't see his face or anything but it happened at the cabin that night. Someone chased me through the woods."
"It was your killer?”
“Yeah,” I gulped.
“You didn't see who it was?”
"Not in the vision. All I saw was a shadow form." I shuddered as the memory washed over me again.
"Could you at least tell if it was a guy or a girl?"
"It was just really scary," I sobbed, aware that I sounded like a child.
"Don't worry," she cooed, patting the bed beside her. "We're going to figure this out."
I sniffed loudly and crossed the tiny room to sit beside Laney. "Clark is right you know."
"About what?"
"You shouldn't get involved with me." I cradled my head in my hands. "I'm toxic."
"No you aren't," she tsked, rubbing my back while I broke down.
"I probably deserved to die," I continued to cry.
Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. “Of course not, you know that isn't true.”
“I'm not a nice person, Laney.”
Clark knew the truth about me; the only reason Laney didn't know was because she hadn't grown up in Clearview. If I continued to drag her along with me, she would end up as a blanket burrito too.
“Sleep here tonight,” she cut into my dreary thoughts.
“I should go home.”
“Do you really want to go there and be alone?”
No. I didn't. No part of me wanted to leave Laney's bedroom. That dingy little square had somehow become the only place in the world that I felt ok in. Weird, since I didn't even know Laney a week ago.
Resigned to my neediness, I curled into a ball at the end of her bed like a human sized cat. “Your bed isn't that bad,” I murmured.
“Mmm,” she shrugged, settling herself on the only chair in the room. “It doesn't really feel like home yet.”
“Do you miss your grandma?”
“I h
aven't thought much about it yet.” Her lips raised slightly at the corners.
How could she not think about it? She was here in this dumpy trailer living with her drunk dad and his wife. If they were even married. I didn't know anything about her grandma, but it had to be better than here.
From the mess that was her desk, Laney plucked out a pale pink brush with a worn-down handle. She absentmindedly began running the brush through her straight dull hair.
One
Two
"We need to look in those woods better," she declared while she brushed. "Now we know the attack happened there so it would help if we could go look for clues. You and Clark..."
Her voice droned on, lulling me to a semiconscious state as I watched the brush move slowly through her hair.
"Avery, are you listening?" mom snapped, slamming her hand against the vanity.
"What?"
"Do you know what it means now that you've gotten your period?"
I squirmed on my bed, uncomfortable with the word still. I already knew all about periods, why did she have to talk about it too?
"It means you're a woman now."
"I know," I whined. At eleven years old, I didn't feel like a woman.
"I know you haven't been brushing your hair one hundred times a night." She swung the brush close to my face. "Do you realize how much money I've put into you?"
"Yeah." I looked down at my two hands.
"You have to start taking better care of yourself now. You're not a child anymore."
"Avery?" Laney yelled my name, jerking me back to the room with her.
"Yeah?" I cleared my throat. "I heard you. We need to search the woods again."
“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “I mean, yes we do need to search there but what I said is that we need a plan.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, trying to concentrate on her words. “A plan for what?”
“Avery,” she sighed loudly. “Talking to your friends is fine but we need to get more aggressive if we want to find out who did this to you.”
“How do you know so much about solving crimes? Did Scooby live next door in Florida?”
“No,” she smirked, unamused. “But I have read every single Agatha Christie book I could get my hands on.”
“Agatha who?”
“Tell me you're kidding.”
“I don't really like to read.” My eyes seemed to be permanently narrowed.
“She's the queen of solving mysteries, especially the ones with murder.”
Laney did realize that this wasn't some stupid book written by a lonely woman sitting in her living room, right? This was real life; this was my life. Actually, it was my death.
“Clark isn't going to agree with this. He doesn't want you to be part of this at all. He made me promise not to involve you.”
“Clark isn't the boss of me,” she shrugged flippantly. “We don't need his permission to do anything.”
“Alright,” I grinned. “So,” I sat up and rubbed my hands together, “What's this Christie lady say about a plan?”
“Umm...”
My grin faded. “You don't have a plan, do you?”
“That's what we need to figure out.” She pressed her finger into her bottom lip. “Was there anything else on the body? Anything weird looking? Something that didn't belong?”
“Besides the stab holes?”
“We already know you were stabbed.”
“That earring.” Which was basically a dead end. “It's not like I was able to actually get a good look. I was wrapped in a sleeping bag.”
“Then maybe we need to go to the police.”
“The police?” There went my eyes again. “And say what?” They already knew I was dead and assuming they knew anything about how people died – they would know I was murdered.
“We can see if they know anything.”
“How would we get them to tell us, even if they do know?”
“You're a ghost,” she pointed out as if I wasn't aware.
“Yes.”
“You can, like, sneak behind them and read their paperwork.”
“Do you really think that would work?”
Laney shrugged. “We can try.”
She had a point; what was the worst that could happen?
THE GLASS THAT SEPARATED us from the cop inside was intimidating. The glare he was giving us was even scarier. “What can I do for you?” he rumbled, his expression giving no indication that he actually wanted to help us.
“How am I going to sneak past him now?” I hissed at Laney. “He's behind a wall of glass.”
“I'm friends with Avery Lewis,” Laney told the man nervously.
His eyes didn't narrow; if he heard her at all, he didn't react like he understood the words. “Is there something you need?” he asked again. “From me?”
“Tell him you know I was killed and you want to know what they know.”
Laney pressed her lips together briefly. “I... I heard she was killed.”
The officer grunted, but didn't reply with words.
“Do you guys know who did it?” she blurted out.
“I can't tell you any details about an ongoing case.”
“Why not?”
“If there's nothing else you need...”
Laney glanced sideways at me. In just a minute he was going to slide that little slot closed and dismiss us completely. If I was alive, no way would I let someone tell me when to leave. Then again – if I was alive we wouldn't be here.
"Tell him that you want to help."
"I... I want to help find her killer," Laney repeated my words to the officer.
"There's nothing you can do."
Standing on the tips of my toes, I tried to peer in past the glass to see what the man was writing. It was impossible though; this whole trip was starting to look like a bad idea.
"Let's just get out of here," I whispered to Laney, even though he couldn't hear me.
"Do you know something about Avery?" the officer asked. "Is there something that you need to tell me?"
Oh great, I inwardly groaned. Now he was going to put Laney's name on the short list of suspects. Why did we think we were going to get any information here? If the cops knew anything, someone would have gotten arrested.
"No," Laney mumbled.
"If you see or hear anything suspicious, come back and let us know. Otherwise you just need to stay out of the way and let us handle this."
"Say ok and then leave. Don't run."
"Ok," Laney nodded. Without another word she bolted from the police station and hurried back to her car.
So much for not running.
"That was one of the worst plans I've ever had," Laney panted, gripping tight to her steering wheel.
At least she was admitting that it was her damn plan. "I honestly have no idea why we thought that would work." Scowling deeply, I glared out of the front windshield. “So what now?"
"I don't know."
I swallowed past the lump that had formed in my throat while we were at the police station. We'd only been in there a few minutes so I wasn't sure why I was breathing like I just ran a marathon. "Do you want to go check out the woods?" I didn't really want to but that was one of our only leads.
My vision or whatever it was.
"No gas," she tapped her dashboard. "I don't know if I can get money from mom. If dad is drunk... or we could ask Clark..."
Asking Clark was out. We couldn't tell him that we were investigating behind his back. Her dad would probably be drunk soon - if he wasn't already, but it felt gross trying to trick him out of a few dollars.
"I have money," I suddenly remembered out loud.
Out of the corner of her eye, Laney gave me a mistrustful stare. “You don't have any pockets.”
“We have to go to my house.”
Her head moved around so she could give me a full view of her snarl. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Why?” She was so dramatic.
“I
can't just knock on your door. What will your parents say?”
But I knew where the key was, she wouldn't have to knock on any doors. “Just trust me,” I put my hand out between us. “Let's go to my house so I can get us some money.”
“WE'RE NOT DOING WELL in the department of ideas,” Laney whispered, glancing around us nervously.
"Stop talking," I sneered. She had spent the entire drive over telling me how bad of an idea this was. Where was her confidence? "I'll take over."
Squaring my shoulders, I walked forward until my body melted into hers.
"There," I sighed, standing up straight and pushing my hair back off my shoulders, "much better."
Laney was better than her brother, but she was still annoying with her constant worrying. Coming to my house wasn't going to get anyone killed for goodness sakes. I rolled my eyes again at Laney, I didn't really care that she couldn't see me.
“We need money,” I told the girl who was sleeping inside of her own body.
Using the key by the back door, I let myself in with Laney's body and hurried upstairs to my room. Laney was in no danger of dying, but it wouldn't be good if my parents or Lindsey caught her sneaking in. It would be pretty difficult to get out of that one.
In the days before I understood what a credit card was, dad gave me and Lindsey an allowance each week. I saved mine, diligently waiting until I had enough to buy a horse.
Of course, I didn't know how much horses cost so I just put all the money I got into an empty tissue box and hid it in the back of my closet.
And there it stayed.
“There you are,” I whispered, excited to see the battered box right where I left all those years ago. “Guess the rainy day is here.”
“Who the hell are you?”
Shocked at the sound of a new voice, I whirled around. “Lindsey!”
Her eyes widened for the briefest second. “Who are you?” she repeated. “What are you doing in this room?”
Where did she come from? Why was she in here? Frozen with shock, I slipped out of Laney's body and stumbled across the room to sink onto my bed. “I...I...”
