by West, Tara
He knew she was dead.
Chewing on my lower lip, I cast AJ and Sophie a look.
They both nodded.
I rose to exit the bus, feeling like I was marching to my own funeral.
My legs felt like lead weights, dragging me down each step as I exited the bus. I couldn’t tear my gaze from him even if I tried. The guy was majorly pissed, clutching his binder in one fist so tight, I could see the white outline of his knuckles. Jaw locked, shoulders squared, I could clearly read the anger in his narrowed eyes.
“Hey.” He jerked his head, his facial features as hard as steel. “Did you hear?”
“Yeah.” I nodded, unable to say any more. Keeping my face forward, trying really hard to keep it together before I turned into a waterfall of sobs and ruined all my mascara, I walked toward the school building.
I should have done something last night. I shouldn’t have left her there. I knew she was dead.
I knew.
I was vaguely aware of Bryon following beside me.
All the other students had walked into the main entrance of the building. Without speaking aloud our mutual decision, we both walked to the secluded entrance to the side. Strange how no one was lurking in the darkened hall. Gossip in my small community traveled like a super-virus, so no doubt everyone was in the main hall or the cafeteria talking about the high school student who was murdered at the coffee house.
A light breeze blew across my face. My hair bobbled like a dandelion in a windstorm. I picked up my pace and Bryon followed. I caught the scent of peanut butter in the air.
And chocolate?
Why did Bryon always smell like a sweet shoppe?
I looked over at Bryon. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, his eyes expressionless. I could feel vibes of tension radiating off his body.
How strange that he didn’t even know Sunny, except for the brief few moments she insulted us. Yet, this guy was taking her death pretty hard. Seeing this sensitive side of Bryon made me like him even more.
Walking ahead, he stopped and faced me, his body barricading the doorway. “Do you think it was her boyfriend?”
Forcing myself to look at him, I gasped at the pained expression in his eyes. “It was him.”
“How do you know?” His eyes narrowed, darkened.
Turning away from him, I tried to restrain my tears, but a few slipped down my cheek anyway. Crap. “I just know.” I shrugged, unable to say more before I cried even harder.
“We should tell someone.” Emotion was audible in his cracked voice. “We might’ve been the last people to see her alive.”
Turning to him, I threw up my hands. “Who do we tell?” Inwardly groaning, I struggled with an even heavier problem.
Who do I tell?
No one would believe me if I told them I’d spoken to dead Sunny and knew the killer was her boyfriend.
“I don’t know.” Bryon came up beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go to the office. Maybe they’ll know what to do.”
Looking into his softened eyes, I just wanted to melt. He must have sensed my turmoil. God, what would he say if I told him about dead Sunny? About my ability to speak to ghosts?
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked before nervously chewing on my lower lip. I was scared.
I felt it in my stomach, which was about to drop to my knees, and in my brain, which was ready to explode from the weight of it all.
What if they asked me too many questions? What if I slipped and told them about my incident with Sunny’s spirit?
“We’re witnesses, Krysta.” Dipping his head, his wintery blue gaze was level with mine. “We can’t keep this to ourselves.”
Deep in my heart, I knew he was right, but that gnawing fear in my brain told me my life was about to go from complicated to really complicated.
Chapter Six
After we’d spoken to Principal Sparks in private, he called our parents and the cops and we gave the police a statement in Sparks’ office. Thankfully, Bryon did most of the talking. He remembered loads of stuff about Sunny’s boyfriend, even details about each tattoo. All I really had to do was nod and agree to everything Bryon said.
I should have felt more at ease with Bryon there answering questions for me, but the way one of the officers kept looking at me made me feel uncomfortable.
Not to mention the fact that I had to take shallow breaths to keep from gagging on stale beer fumes radiating off my dad. Even though he was several feet behind us, tilting back in his chair, his stench had somehow drifted across the room.
Hadn’t he ever heard of a shower?
I wondered briefly if Bryon could smell my dad, but I already knew the answer to that question.
My life totally sucked.
I shifted focus again to the officer whose gaze was practically glued to my face.
Officer Garza was an older Hispanic guy with a receding hairline and dark eyes. He smiled at me a lot and handed me tissues when I broke down crying, but something in the way he looked at me made me feel uneasy. Kind of like he was looking through me. Like he was waiting for me to say more. But he couldn’t have known about my visit with dead Sunny. Maybe I was being paranoid.
Just as we had finished with our statements, Sparks came into the office and nodded to both of us. “You two have had a trying morning. I think your parents should take you home.”
Turning, I noticed my dad was now positioned forward in the chair, knuckles white as he gripped each knee. His graying black hair was a mess, as usual, and the buttons on his stained white shirt weren’t even lined-up correctly. Brow furrowed, he stared blankly at his feet. Was he seriously concentrating on something, or was he ready to pass out?
If he wanted to embarrass me, he sure succeeded. I cringed, stealing a sideways glance at Bryon, fearing what he thought about my dad. Krysta’s drunk father who just rolled out of bed.
Suddenly, Dad’s gaze met mine and his dark eyes bore into me. I couldn’t tell if he was concerned or just angry.
My gaze dropped to the floor; my chest felt even tighter than before. Maybe I’d interrupted time with one of his ‘girl’ friends.
I knew having a teenage daughter wasn’t easy for a guy like my dad. He had a hard enough time trying to pay the bills and now his child was a witness in a murder case.
“So you’re Andy’s little girl?”
Startled, I turned to Officer Garza who stared down at me with a knowing expression.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, before looking away from his penetrating stare.
I wondered how he knew my dad. Maybe Officer Garza had been a security guard once, too. I didn’t want to start a conversation with him; the way he stared at me made me way too uncomfortable.
I just wanted to get out of the office. Away from the cops. Away from my dad. Bryon, the other cop and a man who looked like an older version of Bryon were talking in front of me, blocking the doorway, and I saw no way of getting through.
I hated being short.
“You look a lot like your mom.” The tone of Garza’s voice behind my back softened and ended on a raspy note.
“No, I don’t,” I blurted, looking back at him with narrowed eyes. Even if I wanted to, I knew I looked nothing like the woman who abandoned our family. She was tall and had red hair and pale skin. I looked nothing like my mom.
“Time to go home, Krysta.” Dad’s strained voice came from behind Garza.
The other men parted as Dad plowed through. “Hey, Richards.” Garza nodded. “Feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” He flashed Officer Garza a thin smile. “We need to get home.” Dad pulled me to him.
Looking into Dad’s strained features, I knew he was far from happy. As he led me between the men and out the door, I thought my hand would crush under the strength of his grip.
“Nice seeing you, my friend,” Officer Garza called as we retreated.
Remembering I’d left Bryon without saying goodbye, I tried to turn and wave, but Dad jerked me
forward.
Dad didn’t release my hand until we hit the pavement. “Damn, Krysta, I don’t like you being a witness in a murder case.” Swearing again, he jerked open the passenger door of our little rust bucket and then erratically waved for me to get inside. “I wish you would’ve kept quiet.”
I knew having me in his life was a major inconvenience, but it wasn’t my fault I was born. Like it or not, I was his problem and he’d just have to deal with it. Besides, Sunny’s murderer needed to pay, and I wasn’t going to stand aside and do nothing. Slamming the door shut, I turned to him. “But her boyfriend should go to prison,” I growled.
Dad shook his head, laughing through clenched teeth. “You don’t even know he did it.”
“Yeah.” Exhaling a groan, I rolled my eyes. “I do.”
Dad’s eyes widened. “Did you see the murder?” “No,” I threw up my hands. “But—”
“I’m taking you to AJ’s house tonight.” Jarring open the door again, he pointed at the torn bucket seat with a determined expression. “I don’t want you at the apartment alone.”
My shoulders fell at his angry dismissal. Sliding into my seat, I wiped a stray tear with the back of my hand. He didn’t even care what I had to say.
The tension between us was thick enough to touch as Dad sat next to me and slammed the door. I knew he’d rather just pawn me off on AJ’s parents than deal with me himself.
“Why can’t I stay home?” I pleaded.
Dad swore again, this time using words I hadn’t heard since he’d tried to give up drinking a few months ago.
“Krysta.” He turned to me with a look of irritation clearly written across his creased brow. “Don’t you understand? If you were the last person to see this girl alive, her murderer might come after you now.”
Tattoo guy come after me? I hadn’t thought of that. I didn’t even think this guy knew my name or where I lived. Besides, he didn’t know I was a witness in this case. Dad was just freaking out over nothing.
Wasn’t he?
Chapter Seven
“What are you doing, Emmy?”
Looking up through tear-soaked eyes, I saw Ed and Gertrude hovering above me. “Packing my things,” I said on a sigh.
Arms folded across their chests, concerned expressions marred their brows. I guess they weren’t going to stop calling me Emmy. Oh, well, it didn’t matter anymore. Weird thing was...they were kind of starting to feel like family.
“Where are you going?” Gertrude asked, her voice laced with worry.
“Dad wants me to stay at my friend’s house.” I shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t matter that he was sending me away. But it did matter. My life had been turned upside-down ever since Sunny’s murder, and now my dad wanted me out of his hair. I had always felt plagued by my ability to see ghosts, but never like this. I was in way over my head and had no one to help me.
“For how long?” They asked simultaneously. Weird how they were always doing that. I guess if you spend over a hundred years with the same person, you learn to think alike.
Throwing the last pair of socks into my torn duffel bag, I hung my head. “I don’t know.”
“Mind if we tag along?”
Looking back up at them, I laughed. “Do I have a choice?”
“Nope.” They both nodded.
I threw up my hands, knowing they’d follow just to bug me about their tombstones. “Look, I’m sorry about your graves, but I really don’t know how to stop the mall.”
“We understand.” Placing both hands on her hips, Gertrude nodded. “We’ve got bigger problems right now, anyway.”
“Like what?”
Ed’s lip turned in a snarl. “Seein’ that fella hang for killin’ that girl.”
“Really?” A jolt of excitement shot through me. They wanted to help. I didn’t know how two dead ancients could help me, but just knowing they were on my side made me feel better. “You want to help Sunny?”
“Sure.” Folding her arms across her chest, Gertrude nodded. “We all gotta go sometime, but that ain’t no way ta die.”
They were right. Then a thought struck me. How was Sunny handling all this? Last night, she seemed in a state of shock. I wondered if she was coming to terms with her death.
“Have you been over there? I mean, have you talked to her to see if she’s all right?”
Ed’s glowing eyes nearly jumped out of his sockets. “Oh, no. We ain’t goin’ anywhere near that coffee house.”
“Why not? She might need someone to talk to.”
“Honey.” Brow’s raised, Gertrude shook her head. “We spirits ain’t all the same.”
“You’re not?” Scratching my head, I wondered why. I mean, weren’t they all in the same ghostly dimension?
Ed held out his palms. “Gertie and me, we died natural-like. We was expectin’ ta die.”
“That girl, though.” Scowling, Gertrude shook her head. “She didn’t die like us.”
“Why should that matter?” I was majorly confused. It shouldn’t have mattered how they died. Ed and Gertrude could still go comfort her.
Looking at each other, they both nodded before turning back to me and answering simultaneously. “Well, I guess you’d have ta be dead ta understand.”
Then Ed did something I’d never seen a ghost do. He started pacing, hands clasped behind his back. I felt like a little kid about to get a big fatherly lecture. “Ya see, Emmy, she wasn’t ready ta go, so she’s not takin’ death real well.”
Gertrude wagged a finger. “She’s in a real dark place and we ain’t goin’ in there.”
“A dark place?” What was this dark place like? Was it cold, lonely, scary? My heart clenched, thinking of Sunny’s bleak existence in the afterworld. “How do I get her out?”
The ghosts shared a nervous glance.
Ed shrugged. “The thing is…we don’t really know.”
Chewing on her lower lip, Gertrude turned to me with grim determination in her iridescent eyes. “Maybe if we punished that boy who kilt’ her, that would be a start.”
****
“Hey, how you doing?” Lying supine on her bed, AJ tossed a softball into the air. The ball barely scraped the ceiling with each throw before falling straight in her outstretched palm.
AJ had a gift for making the ball go wherever she wanted. Sometimes I thought she inherited a little of her grandma’s gift for teleporting objects. Unlike Sophie and me, all of the women in AJ’s family had some kind of gift. Actually, I never knew any women in my family. It’s been just Dad and me. My worthless excuse for a mom left us last summer after the money started running low. Her leaving wasn’t much of a loss, anyway. She was never really a loving mother. I could count on one hand the number of times she’d hugged me.
But all of that seemed so long ago, so unimportant now that I had much bigger problems.
“Not so good.” Slumping into AJ’s bean bag chair on the floor, I rubbed my throbbing skull. The pain spread through my shoulders and neck to the back of my head. Every nerve in my body felt like a coiled spring.
I rested my head against the wall. Looking toward the ceiling, I thought AJ had installed some new kind of lighting. I blinked once, before realizing I was looking at two pair of dangling legs. Then I remembered Ed and Gertrude said they were going to tag along. They bent over and waved at me, two huge goofy grins plastered on their faces.
You know, I was really starting to like them.
AJ stopped throwing the ball and sat up.
I gasped, thinking she was seeing ghosts, too.
“Want to talk?” Looking straight through their legs, AJ leveled me a stare that showed concern in her crystal blue eyes.
She wasn’t seeing them; she was just concerned for my problems.
“Where do I begin?” I threw up my hands, trying my best to keep my focus on her and not the two dead wall fixtures.
“I tried texting you.” The pitch in her voice rose and she sounded like her mother right before an explosive ‘nag
session’.
“Well, not that it matters since my dad still hasn’t paid the phone bill, but he took away my phone.” I shrugged. “He doesn’t want me talking to the cops if they call.”
Her brows dipped into a frown. “Why?”
I exhaled a heavy sigh. “He’s mad at me for telling the cops about Sunny’s boyfriend.”
Although he pretended he was worried about me, I knew the real reason he was angry. It was much harder to ignore me when I was a witness in a murder case. This was cutting into his girlfriend and beer time.
“But you had to come out!” AJ barked, her face draped in her infamous heavy scowl. The kind of face she used whenever a ref made a bad call or an obnoxious cheerleader was bugging her.
“Yeah, I know,” I groaned. “It’s not like I told them about dead Sunny telling me he did it.”
Jaw dropping, she looked ready to piss her pants. “Will you tell them about dead Sunny?” she breathed.
“Are you crazy?” A nervous laugh escaped my throat.
AJ gripped the side of her bed so tight her knuckles turned white. Leaning forward, she spoke in a heavy whisper. “What if they can’t prove he did it?”
“I don’t know what to do, AJ.” I shot a glance at Ed and Gertrude. “Maybe the old people and I will come up with something.”
AJ tilted her head in confusion. “The old people?”
“Yeah, they’ll be staying with me.” I pointed to their hovering spot on the ceiling. “I hope you don’t mind.” How strange that they like to float. Why can’t they hover four feet lower?
AJ’s deep golden tan started taking on the ash- white hue of Ed and Gertrude. “Uhhh,” she said through a frozen smile.
“Ed, Gertrude, this is AJ.” Holding out my hand, I motioned from the ghosts to my friend.
The ghosts waived to AJ with their silly grins, acting as if she could see them.
“They say ‘hi’.” I waved to AJ for them.
AJ swallowed, eyes bulging, her skin turning even whiter. “You brought ghosts to my house?”
“They’ve got nowhere else to go.” I shrugged. “The mall developers tore up their cemetery.”
