Paying the Price

by Maria Quick

  ‘Um, lest you forget, you invited me over,’ I reminded him.

  ‘Yeah, and you’re not complaining,’ he pointed out.

  Well, he saw right through me.

  ‘Okay, here’s the thing,’ I began, quickly explaining the gist of the situation as he sighed, laboriously and loudly.

  ‘You want me to hack into the cops’ database? Are you for real?’ he groaned, as George walked back into the room.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ he nodded.

  ‘Shut up,’ I hissed at him.

  ‘And now you’re telling me to shut up?’ Mickey went on. ‘Wow.’

  ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’

  He paused the setup long enough to look at me.

  ‘Right. Who’s here?’

  ‘Name’s George. He died a while back.’

  ‘George?’ he snorted, tickled pink by that, I can tell you. ‘Does he have a top hat and cane?’

  ‘Man, I wish,’ George muttered.

  ‘No, idiot. He died six months ago. He was at college, and got hit by a car. An actual car, not a horse and cart, alright?’

  ‘Alright, jeez. Why’s he still here? Thought they disappear after you solve their deaths or whatever,’ Mickey mumbled, finally passing me a controller. I stared at the foreign object in my hand. I had never been a gamer, and it kinda looked like space tech to me.

  This was not going to end well.

  ‘Beats me. Obviously it’s because of my winning personality,’ I shrugged. George made a gagging sound.

  Mickey looked like he wasn’t far off that, either.

  ‘Anyway,’ I said, glaring at both of them, ‘you gonna help me or what?’

  ‘How many times, Ann? I’ve never hacked into anything in my life, never mind a police case file. Besides, you’re supposed to be helping me. Okay, so with this-’

  ‘But you’ve helped me before,’ I interrupted, as he paused the game.

  ‘All I’ve ever done is Googled stuff that you were too lazy to, all to get you off my back. Like I was saying-’ he tried again, but I wasn’t having it. I’m sorry, but I think a murder is a little more important than a stupid game.

  ‘Look, this is somebody’s life we’re talking about.’

  ‘Something you’ve never cared about, unless that somebody is you,’ Mickey muttered.

  ‘Took the words right out of my mouth,’ George agreed.

  Okay, so I was selfish. At least I had the balls to admit it. Kinda.

  ‘Look-’

  ‘Fine! I will help you, alright? But first, you’re helping me. No buts, no looks. I have been at 99% completion on this for years. I just need you to do exactly what I say, alright? Then, I’ll have finally completed the whole game.’

  ‘Wow, your biggest achievement to date,’ I said sarcastically. Though, not really, because it was true.

  ‘Second biggest, actually. John told me that as soon as I finish school, I’m being promoted,’ he said proudly.

  I gave him a blank look.

  ‘Who’s John?’

  ‘My manager.’

  ‘...’

  ‘At the pizza place I’ve worked at since I was fifteen? Really? I mean, I know we’re not close but you can’t even remember where I work? I remember all the pointless crap you tell me. Ugh, let’s get this over with.’

  Before I could apologize for forgetting that tiny, insignificant detail, he finally loaded up the shooty game and I did exactly as he said.

  No idea what the hell that was, though.

  He got his participation prize and finally, at long last, got around to helping me. Since he steadfastly refused to commit crimes for the greater good, he implored me to go back to the start of this whole thing. Namely, Izzy’s murder.

  I sighed. It had been a while since I’d read the newspaper articles of America’s sweetheart. He pulled them up and I sifted through them. Drunken boyfriend, distraught parents, victim was such a cutie pie. Ugh, vomit. Nothing I hadn’t read before, and probably why I’d refused to read them again. I forced myself this time to check it all out. This was, after all, thirty years ago. There would be no Tweets, so presumably everything would be accurate. Except, you know, the stuff that wasn’t. And lo and behold, there was one paragraph that caught my eye.

  “The coroner suggested that a thin material of some kind would have been used to strangle the victim. No such material was found either at the scene or on Manning’s person. Officer Daniel Rathers, who was first on the scene, said it was ‘significant, and suggested that Manning may not be the culprit.’

  Manning was later charged and proven guilty by a jury in less than one hour.”

  Officer Daniel Rathers. He’d had a few promotions since then.

  And we’d had a few run-ins. To put it mildly, we clashed. To put it honestly, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me, given the chance.

  And I was pretty sure I was going to give him that chance.

  12

  ‘Daniel Rathers? Isn’t he the chief now?’ George asked, frowning.

  ‘Yeah, that’s him.’

  ‘Who’s what?’ Mickey asked, startled. I waved his worries away.

  ‘Not talking to you.’

  ‘And isn’t he the guy you have issues with?’ George went on.

  ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

  ‘What is-? Oh, still not talking to me. Got it,’ Mickey mumbled, consoling himself with the muffin I’d left for him.

  In all my dealings with Chief Rathers, I’d found him to be a pretty meticulous detective. He followed every shred of evidence, not just the obvious, and ensured his cops did the same. I cannot fault him for any of that and in any other circumstance I would totally respect him for it. Unfortunately, it only means bad luck for me.

  I first met him about four years ago now, I think. This was way before I’d met Tommy. I’d obviously dealt with other cops before, and they’d obviously spoken about me. Eventually word had gotten back to him, and he’d dropped by my house one day unannounced. Apparently I’m the only rich girl in Dayton who sees ghosts, can you believe that? Luckily, my dad had been out with a floozy so I’d been home alone. I mean, I think that was technically illegal but whatevs. He’d given me a stern warning, asked me the usual questions like if I was loved and had enough attention, then was on his way, assuming that’d be the end of it.

  Sorry, Danny boy.

  We’d bickered and clashed many, many times since. Once he’d realized that I was not simply going to disappear, he became a real hands-on chief. He managed to find his way to every crime scene that I was at, trying to find something; anything he could pin on me.

  But hey, as much as I dislike Ken, he’s a pretty good lawyer. Rathers has never found anything that’d stick. We last spoke about six months ago, around the time I met George. I’d trusted a lucy when I shouldn’t have, story of my life. I, I admit, messed up a big arrest bust and a few cops died. Including Tommy. I’d never seen Rathers so furious until that day. Understandable, again, I admit, but it was still pretty terrifying. Rathers is a softly-spoken dude, and to have him screaming in your face kinda scares the crap out of you. I’ve so far managed to avoid him since then, thanks in part to my semi-retirement and the fact that I’ve only helped lucies in other states recently. I was actually hoping to avoid him my entire life.

  Now, I was totes ready to knock on his front door.

  I was such a glutton for punishment.

  ‘Right, I’ll catch you later,’ I told Mickey, jumping up. If I didn’t go now, I’d chicken out.

  ‘Pleasure as always, Ann. Thanks for the one muffin you left me.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ I said, heading out, George in tow.

  ‘Um, I was actually being-’ Mickey yelled at my back before I shut the door.

  Sarcastic, yeah I know. I got it. I just had other things on my mind to retort.

  ‘Mickey seemed like a nice guy,’ George enthused as he followed me to the car.

  ‘Sure, he’s a real diamond,’ I replied,
rolling my eyes. I could meet with a serial killer and he’d still find something positive about him. He tutted at me.

  ‘You’re not exactly the most popular girl in the world, Ann. He didn’t even have to talk to you anymore, with you leaving school, but he did. And he helped you,’ he went on.

  Um, helped me how? If I recall correctly, he actually refused to help me and instead did something that I could’ve and would’ve ended up doing myself, anyway.

  ‘No, he didn’t. I actually ended up helping him with that stupid game. He’s been on my back about that for years.’

  Seriously. Every time I’d ask him for help, he’d try and blackmail me and say he’d only help if I played his damn game. So, I blackmailed him back. I’d only play his damn game if he helped me. I’m more stubborn than him, so I won. Until now, anyway. God knows what I’d do now. I might actually have to be a friend to him.

  And the world may end.

  ‘So, why’s it taken you so long to do it?’

  ‘Because it’s only a game? I’m trying to actually do something of use here,’ I sighed.

  ‘Oh, I get it. Your thing’s more important than his. I see,’ he nodded sagely. I managed to refrain from clawing my eyes out.

  ‘Okay, I see what you’re doing, but it actually is. You can’t tell me that solving a murder is not as important as playing a video game.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ he sniffed. That was his comeback for when he was wrong and didn’t want to admit it. ‘It matters what Mickey thinks. And if finishing the game was important to him, you should’ve helped. That’s what friends do.’

  ‘Newsflash, buddy. We ain’t exactly friends.’

  ‘Then, why do you still talk to him? Just- hey, I think you missed a turn, there,’ he frowned, peering out the window.

  ‘I think it was seagull, actually.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m not going home right now,’ I replied, as my hand twitched to do a U-turn. Home sounded pretty good.

  ‘Okay, where are we going?’ he asked slowly.

  ‘To speak to the chief,’ I told him miserably.

  As a million reasons not to do that flew into his head, he managed to not say any of them. Partly because he watched the police station zoom past the window.

  ‘Okay, you definitely missed a turn there.’

  ‘I’m not going to the station. I’m banned unless I’m in handcuffs.’

  He gave me a look.

  ‘Not really banned, but you know what I mean. I don’t want to antagonize cops any more than I already do. Besides, he won’t be there now. He’ll be at the park, heading to the coffee shop. If I’m lucky, I’ll head him off before he even gets there,’ I said, glancing at the clock on my dashboard.

  ‘How do you know where he’ll be?’ George asked, looking a little suspicious.

  ‘I’m psychic. I thought you knew this?’ I frowned at him.

  ‘Did you stalk him?’ he cried out, finally realizing that the worst answer is always true for me.

  ‘Of course I did. He scared the bejesus out of me. I never wanted to see him again. I spent a week following him at a distance to find out that he had a strict routine. I wanted to know exactly where he’d be.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So, I could avoid those places,’ I shrugged, parking at the park. He didn’t have anything to say to that.

  Rathers must’ve had a lot on his mind when I’d followed him. He hadn’t spotted me once. Or if he had, he hadn’t stopped me. At 5pm, he finished work and took a stroll through the park. This took about a half hour. After that, he walked to the nearest coffee shop, bought a coffee and Danish, and ate and drank on the way back to his car at the precinct.

  He’d appeared to be utterly comfortable in this routine, so I’d assumed that he’d spent years doing it. And I was now about to cut him off halfway and disrupt everything. Boy, I hoped he didn’t have OCD.

  ‘Okay, I get all that. What I don’t get is why we’re going to confront him about a case he didn’t actually work himself from back in the early days of his career,’ George pointed out.

  And I kinda hated him for it, because I was thinking the exact same thing.

  When I’d seen his name, like, twenty minutes ago, it’d seemed like a good idea to talk to him about it. He’d obviously thought there was something fishy about Izzy’s murder, and besides, it was kinda my only lead. So far, all I’d done was inadvertently solve another murder. Sort of. Apart from speaking to Rathers, my only other option was to go to Leesha’s crime scene. Since she’d been killed weeks ago, I wasn’t holding out much hope for inspiration or evidence that the cops had missed. What I really needed was to find David. Sad to say, but I’ve never actually solved a murder without angering the murderer to prove it. I am not a great detective.

  I’m not sure how many more times I need to say this.

  ‘Because he believes that Chuck is innocent. Maybe he has evidence that points to David,’ I murmured quickly before a dog walker passed us by. She still pulled her dog away from me, though. George, remembering that dogs have the same curse I do, jumped way away into the nearby bushes. The dog walker murmured something about a squirrel as the pooch instantly strained to get at George. Which begged the question; do dogs actually react to squirrels? Or have they only ever reacted to ghosts?

  And if that doesn’t creep you out whilst walking Fido at 6am, nothing will.

  ‘Evidence which he didn’t act upon?’ George said as he managed to right himself. ‘Look, this is a terrible idea. Even if he did have that, why would he tell you? From what I’ve heard, he’s eager to arrest you. You can’t just go up to him and ask him for help, it’s practically suicide. He will not help you, and furthermore-’

  ‘Chief!’ I yelled, shutting up George’s words and my thoughts. In my experience, it’s best just to blindly head into terrible situations, and beat yourself up over it later.

  George face-palmed as the man in front of us turned around, alert. Once he locked eyes with me, his shoulders slumped and he carried on walking, double the speed. I cursed myself for eating all of Mickey’s muffins and ran after him.

  ‘Wait! Please, I need your help,’ I puffed.

  Rathers tightened his scarf and ignored me, focusing his hard gaze on the floor.

  ‘It’s about a murder.’

  ‘When isn’t it?’ he snapped.

  ‘Can you stop walking a second?’ I asked.

  Instantly, he halted and I had to walk back a little.

  ‘Are you here to confess?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Confess? What would I be confessing?’

  He stared at me before shaking his head and carrying on walking. Man, I was about to have a heart attack.

  ‘It’s about Izzy Turner!’ I yelled to his back, holding my side. I could not keep up with that man. ‘I know who her killer is.’

  This time, he stopped for good.

  13

  Aaand then carried on walking. Damn it.

  Unlike a lot of guys around his age, he had no middle-aged spread. He was the type of guy you assume would put in a full day at work before driving to the gym for an hour-long session. You would assume correctly, because I stalked him and know it to be true. That’s how you make good assumptions, people. Make sure they’re factual first.

  Since he did all that and no doubt ran marathons for fun, he had absolutely no trouble keeping up with a girl a third of his age. Especially when said girl was me, who thought a good day involved nothing but sitting, snoozing and of course, lounging.

  ‘Look, can you stop?’ I hissed, feeling the strain. ‘I’m trying to help you. That’s all I’ve ever done.’

  Anybody looking at Rathers would probably think he needed a new battery. He stopped yet again, this time adorning the change of pace with a couple curses in my direction. Nice of him.

  ‘You- I- Just-’ he spluttered, going red in the face. He was pastier than an albino snowman, so it was pretty noticeable. Also a
pretty unattractive look, but I was polite and didn’t mention it.

  ‘What is wrong with you?’ he finally managed to say, pouring a world of hurt into those five words.

  ‘Let’s not get into that now,’ I decided brightly. ‘What matters is Izzy’s killer is still out there. I know that you remember her. She was a young kid, celebrating being voted Prom Queen. Her boyfriend was found drunk and standing over her body. He was arrested and convicted, even though the murder weapon was never found. You found that suspicious, remember?’

  In spite of his pretty clear hatred for me, the detective in him briefly took over and he nodded.

  ‘I was a rookie. It was my first arrest. From the outset, the guy- I forget his name, now-’

  ‘Chuck Manning,’ I told him. He looked at me as if in agreement, then suddenly came out of the spell and glared.

  ‘I’m not doing this with you. You’re nothing but a troublemaker. Worse than that, you’ve gotten people killed. Good people. People who actually wanted to help others; not like you. You don’t want to help. You just want attention or something. Shaun keeps telling me you’re sick, but I don’t believe that. I never have.’

  Oh, sure. I just lurve attention. In fact, I love it so much that lucies have to practically force me to solve their dang murders.

  Oh, and Shaun? That’s my dad. Yeah, he’s on first-name terms with my dad. Along with everyone else in Ohio.

  ‘I don’t want attention, I’ve never asked for any credit and I’ve specifically asked for my name to not be mentioned in case files. And for that matter, I’m not sick either. I just-’

  ‘-See ghosts. Yeah, I know. I got it the first two hundred times. And you wouldn’t be the first attention-seeker to hate attention, you know.’

  What, going all therapist on my ass now? Man, and to think my dad was actually paying Tess. I could’ve sought out Rathers and got my therapy for free.

  ‘Can we forget all this, just for a second?’ I suggested, taking the high road. We could spend hours sniping at each other, and to be honest, it was getting dark. I was cold. I wanted to get home and take a real long hot shower. Today had been a long day. ‘Did you ever look for the murder weapon? Or find another suspect?’