I felt Dean watching me. I scoffed. "You really believe people can communicate with the dead? You sure you don't work for the Interrogator?"
Dean let out a bark of a laugh, and I managed a smile that probably looked forced. But the woman appeared unaffected. She maintained an inquiring-minds expression.
"Was Kate meeting someone out there? Did she say who she'd been waiting for?"
"You'll have to ask the police. I have no idea—"
"Could your grandmother, the late Tilda Jepson, communicate with the dead?"
Was this woman for real? I intended to tell her loudly that she was a nut. But all that came out was, "I...we..."
Dean rescued me. "Come on." He took my arm, led me into the house, and closed the door. We watched from the window as people in the cars got out and started taking pictures and videos of the house. So far, Guinan "the witch" Jones had been a contained local rumor. I imagined I'd be all over the web now. I felt queasy.
"You okay?" Dean said.
I nodded. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. I heard him tell Granddad about the media. Ten minutes later, Granddad pulled up in his gray Chevy Suburban. Dean and I heard him tell the news crew and the others they were acting like vultures. They found this amusing but got back into their cars and left.
"Thank you for calling me, son," Granddad said.
"No problem, sir." Dean looked at me. "Call you later?"
I nodded and watched him walk back to his car. I closed the door and double-locked it.
My grandfather cursed under his breath. "I can't believe this. Coming to a private residence to ask questions they've got no business asking."
"If they believe rumors that I communicate with the dead, I suppose it's newsworthy," I conceded. "They saw me go behind the crime scene tape."
Granddad grunted. "Vultures. The whole lot of them. I'm gonna make some phone calls."
"What about Tim? He and Kate were probably sleeping together." I explained what I'd sensed weeks ago.
He winced and rubbed his chin. "To tell the truth, I suspected something like that. He might have been cheating on his wife, but I don't think he killed Kate."
All he had to do was say he'd been home in bed with his wife. As far as I knew, it was the truth. They'd arrived home around midnight. I couldn't see him leaving after his wife fell asleep and going to Jepson's Point to kill somebody.
"Even with an alibi," Granddad said, "it doesn't look good that he was sleeping with the murder victim."
"So it definitely is murder?" I said. It was a stupid question, and the back of my head throbbed slightly as if to agree. I told him about the head wound discrepancy.
He frowned and stared into space. "That is odd." He relaxed his face. "Don't worry about it. Precog dreams might not match reality in every detail."
I raised an eyebrow. "Did Grandma tell you that?"
He winked. "Nope. Just a theory."
I thought about calling Tessa, but I knew it would be awkward. I wanted to tell her about the affair, but I also didn't want her to know. As it turned out, it didn't matter. The next morning I read a story on the local paper's web site about the affair between the cop and the barely legal dead girl. Theodore "Skeeter" Watson, local meth dealer and user, claimed to have found the body Sunday morning around eight o'clock. The TV news coverage was pretty much the same.
I googled myself and was grateful beyond words nothing about Guinan "the medium" Jones came up.
Chapter Six
I'd read the news story three times, and it got worse each time. Tim, the dead girl's former lover, was a "person of interest" in the investigation. Tim, Kate, and I weren't the only ones who'd known about the affair. Other people suspected. This was a small town, and people talk. If that news woman heard about my grandmother's clairvoyance, she and everyone else naturally heard about Tim's affair.
I bet Kate told her best friend about it. I'd certainly tell Tamzen something like that.
I re-read the part about Skeeter Watson finding the body. He might have killed Kate and claimed he found her to throw off suspicion.
I was sitting on my bedroom floor, having just hung up from talking to Tamzen, when my cell vibrated again. It was my mother. I reluctantly answered. I didn't have to be clairvoyant to know what she was going to say. She and my father were going to accelerate their bring-Guinan-home plan.
"You don't understand," I said once I could get a word in. "I can't leave right now. With this murder—"
"That's precisely why you have to leave," she said. I could see her in my mind. The last time I'd visited—Christmas—she'd cut her shoulder-length brown hair into a chin-length bob. She had my grandmother's looks, including her brown eyes, and my grandfather's temperament.
"A girl is dead, and the killer is still out there. If anything happens to you, I'll never forgive my father."
Indignation flared inside me, and I struggled to control my tone. "How would it be his fault?"
"Would you stop defending him? All I'm saying is whoever killed her might be a serial killer on the hunt for teenage girls. Everybody in Ridge Grove knows about the chief of police's psychic granddaughter." I winced. "The killer might get rid of you before they catch him."
She had a point. I tried to imagine if I were in another state and my child's schoolmate had been killed.
"Nobody is going to kill me."
I eyed the shotgun leaning against the wall. Granddad taught me how to use it when I was thirteen. Usually locked in his closet, he took it out, loaded it, and told me to keep it in my room. I didn't plan on telling my mother this.
"You father and I have already decided."
"Kate didn't know who killed her, Mom. She didn't see—"
My mother did something totally uncharacteristic. She cursed. "I knew it. He had you looking at that girl's corpse, didn't he?"
Nice going, Guinan.
"Thank you for telling me that. All the more reason for you to leave Ridge Grove. Check your inbox tomorrow. You'll see an e-ticket for a Saturday morning flight."
I stood so abruptly, I got lightheaded. "What? That's in a week!"
"Less than week," she said, "But plenty time for you to get your things together. I'll enroll you in school here and take care of everything. All you need to do is be on that plane."
"This isn't fair." I said, trying to tamp down my temper. "I've lived here since I was ten, and you're giving me a week to pack up?"
Silence again. I pictured her on other end, just as defiant. They wanted me to leave my grandfather and my friends.
"Why are you acting so surprised? You know your father and I have been considering this for some time. With this murder, well, no time like the present. You can visit Thanksgiving and Christmas. In fact, we'll all come down for the holidays, have a nice, long visit."
"But this is my home. I don't want to visit my home."
"Guinan, I…we don't know if we did the right thing, letting you stay there so long."
"And now you want to make up for it by taking me away from my friends?"
"You're young. You'll make new friends. And there are other boys in the world besides Zeke Hicks."
***
"This really sucks."
Tamzen was pouting. She hadn't spoken to Zeke for hours, torture for her. On top of this tragedy, his father had had an affair with a murdered girl, and I was leaving Ridge Grove in less than a week. However, I noticed that she hadn't lost her appetite. We sat in the food court of the largest mall in Chelsea, the one with the indoor ice skating rink.
"I never would have guessed Zeke's straight-laced father would be cheating on his wife," she said. "And cheating with a teenager."
And the teenager ends up dead.
"How's Zeke taking it?"
"Based on the only text I got from him, not too well. He said he couldn't talk right now."
I thought about Tessa. I was a coward. I wanted to call her, but saying "I'm sorry" seemed lame. "This is unreal." I stared at my uneaten slice of p
izza. "A murder in Ridge Grove, and somebody our age."
"This sucks especially for Tessa," Tamzen said. "Stay-at-home mom with two toddlers, and now she's caught up in a cheating and murder scandal."
I looked at her. "You think Tim killed her?"
"God, I hope not."
I watched her eat. What would it mean for this town if it turned out Tim Hicks killed his girlfriend? What would it mean for Zeke and Tessa? What would it mean for me? I felt like we'd exhausted the conversation. I tried to change the subject to pleasant things, but Tamzen insisted I tell her what went down at the police station. For added drama, I mentioned the news crew coming to the house.
"Holy crap."
"It was the weirdest thing," I said. "I don't know why they listen to rumors and focus on me."
"Not that," she said. She wiggled her eyebrows. "Dean came over. He's a slick one. He told us he was going to just chill at home and he ends up at your house."
"Oh, right. Well, we just talked about everything that had happened. What?"
She was giving me her don't-disappoint-me look. "Guinan Jones, Dean is crushing on you. He's a cutie. And those baby blues? Come on. Don't you like him at all?"
"I think he's cute," I conceded. "But it feels a little weird thinking about getting with him at a time like this."
Her face tensed into a serious expression. "Right. It's a tragedy." She sipped her drink and nodded silently for a moment. "So when are you guys going out?"
I shook my head and watched passers-by. The food court looked more crowded than usual. I unintentionally made eye contact with a couple of people, both men, and what I read was typical of such casual and brief connections. A spark of attraction, then varying degrees of follow-up feelings. One felt a twinge of guilt. Probably had a girlfriend or wife. The other guy's shyness was almost painful. I let my eyes linger on an older woman's face. Her mouth turned down, she moved as though she had a heavy weight tied to her back. She caught me staring, and I suppressed the instinct to look away. From our brief eye contact, I sensed a sadness so deep, a lump formed in my throat.
"Are you choking? You haven't eaten anything."
I tore my eyes away from the woman and blinked at Tamzen. "I was just thinking."
She snorted. "You were just reading."
I bit into a lukewarm slice of pizza.
"Hey, read me," she said. "See if you can sense something...new."
I watched my paper plate while I ate. The last time I read my best friend, we'd almost fallen out. She'd seen me and Zeke talking by my locker last year and had some not-so-nice emotions about me. Never again, I'd said to myself many times since.
"Come on," she said. "Exercise your abilities."
"If I wanted to do that," I said, my mouth full, "I can sit here and read strangers all day."
She slapped her hand down on the table. "Look, it won't be like last time. I'm not wishing evil things on you. Zeke and I are..." She trailed off, and something in her voice made me stop chewing. Before I knew it, I'd made eye contact with her and didn't conjure the red-brick wall. I let the emotions come through. I really started choking this time.
She jumped up, came to my side of the table, and slapped me on the back. "Are you okay?"
I looked up at her smirking face. "I'm fine," I said, coughing into my hand. I cleared my throat and sipped my drink. "Went down the wrong way."
She returned to her chair, eyes wide. "That shocking, huh?"
I shrugged in an effort to downplay what I'd sensed: intense physical and emotional satisfaction. Triumphant smugness.
"Zeke and I...well..."
The Tamzen Parker I knew was rarely shy. The sign was red ears. Right now, hers were glowing. I stared at her and tried to keep a neutral expression. I hoped my jealousy was well hidden. What I felt was more than jealousy, actually. It was disappointment, with a side order of defeat. Whatever happened between them wasn't her first time. Before they started going together at the end of our sophomore year, she'd hooked up with a senior.
She stared at me, apparently waiting for another reaction.
"What do you want me to say? Um...congratulations?"
She pursed her lips. "That sounds vaguely sarcastic."
"You and Zeke did it?"
She sat back and stared at the table. Her ears still bright red. I guess it was time I accepted that my best friend and the boy I'd always liked were together in every sense of the word.
I softened my expression. "When did this big event happen?"
She leaned forward. "Saturday night."
A flash of deception?
I raised my eyebrows. "The night Kate was killed?"
She gaped. "You have to remind me?"
"Sorry. Where did you do it? Not at Jepson's Point—"
"No way," she said, her face pinched like she'd tasted a lemon. "We didn't do it in the back seat of a car or on the ground in the woods. My parents were out of town overnight."
My mouth fell open. "You didn't tell me they were out of town. You did it in your parents' house?"
"The trip was a last-minute thing. I told Zeke I wanted to take advantage of having the house to myself, and he was down."
"So why now?"
She stared at her purse and fiddled with it. "Why not now? We've been together for a year. I wanted to ages ago, but he wanted to wait."
I wanted to be married before I had sex. But if Zeke and I were together and had the place to ourselves, I might be tempted to...but we weren't together. We weren't even friends.
"You are happy for me, aren't you?"
Happy that someone else had sex? Rather than verbalize an answer, I smiled. "Let's go."
She watched me for a second, seemed satisfied, and grabbed her purse and shopping bag. She was about to get into details of her night with Zeke when we both stopped short of the exit.
Eric Rodman, Kate's boyfriend, was pacing near the doors. He stopped when he spotted us. He raked his hand through his black hair. His jaw clenched, and his blue eyes bore holes into me.
"What the hell is his problem?" Tamzen said.
We headed to a door a few feet from where he stood. He walked over and stopped in front of us, blocking the way. I made eye contact with him. His grief and anger were palpable. I felt his emotions in my chest. Tamzen grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to her.
"What do you want?" she said.
"I want to talk to you," he said, still staring at me.
"Take a number," she said, pushing past him. Eric grabbed my other arm. It didn't hurt, but I gasped, anyway.
"Hey!"
"I need to talk to you," he said through gritted teeth.
"Eric, if you don't leave us alone—"
"I'm not talking to you," he said to Tamzen. With his emphasis on the last word, I sensed more than just irritation. Her grip slackened but she didn't move. His eyes, dark circles under them, slid back to me.
"I want to know what you told the cops about me."
Chapter Seven
"Did you tell them I did it?"
Eric's nostrils flared. He hardly ever acknowledged me when we passed each other in the hallways at school. Now he was demanding answers.
"Did you do it?" Tamzen said.
He snarled. "One more word out of you—"
"I didn't tell them anything about you, Eric," I said. "I don't know anything to tell." When he wouldn't back down, I stepped between him and Tamzen. "You dated Kate. Of course the police are going to question you."
He stopped glaring at Tamzen, glanced at me, and backed off.
"Idiot," Tamzen said under her breath.
"You know who killed her?"
You, perhaps? I shook my head.
"You're a psychic, right?" he said, frowning. "You see things before they happen?"
"She doesn't do that, jerk," Tamzen said. "She can't see the future."
I kept quiet about the dream. This was so new, I could hardly believe it myself.
"Then what do you do?" he said, narrowing hi
s eyes.
I took a deep breath and looked at Tamzen. She gave me an encouraging nod.
"I can sort of see a dead person's last thoughts." No matter how many times I've said this, it always sounded strange. But Eric didn't roll his eyes or give off the yeah-right vibes.
"What was she thinking?" He blinked rapidly.
My grandfather had never forbid me from sharing my insights about the dead. It was assumed I wouldn't. And now, if Eric was a suspect, I definitely shouldn't tell him Kate had thought of him. Wouldn't leave me alone.
"Look," he said," I know you saw her lying out there. Did you see who killed her?"
"No."
Suspicion and a hint of disgust radiated from him. "I thought you said you can see the dead's last thoughts?"
This was getting sticky. "I can, but...Eric, I don't know who killed her."
His face crumpled. He took a steadying breath. "What did you see?"
I noticed Tamzen staring at me, too.
"Was she alone?" he prompted. "Was she with someone...waiting for someone?"
"You'll have to ask the police about that. I don't think I should say anything about this case."
"This case is my dead girlfriend," he shouted. "I want to know what the hell you saw."
"Okay, we're done," Tamzen said. This time she got us past him. She mumbled insults under her breath. We didn't speak until we were inside with the doors locked and the engine running.
"Guinan, I know you're not supposed to talk about what you do with the police, but was she with Tim or waiting for him?"
I leaned back in the seat, willing my heart to slow down. The hot air blowing from the vents evaporated the moisture on my face.
"I'm sorry. I can't talk about it."
She snorted. "Well, it's kind of obvious she was meeting someone. I mean, she wouldn't go out there at night by herself." She looked at me for confirmation. I turned my head and stared out the window. She slapped her hand against the dashboard, making me jump. I hated when she did that.
"Did you get any impressions from Eric?"
Black-Eyed Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #1) Page 4
