Beyond Dead

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson

  “Does one of you want to tell me what’s going on?” I took a stab in the dark and pointed between them. “Ohhhh, is this about Katie?”

  Every pair of eyes in the room fell heavy on me. I did my best not to slouch under the weight. I’d take that as a hell yes and a rather large misstep on my part.

  “Or was her name Kitty?” I looked around the room at the three stony faces. “The one who was stealing chicken baguettes from the canteen and her parole officer knew about it but let it slide.” I was bluffing my ass off. Sabrina would be so proud. “You guys snipped a finger off him for that, right?”

  Officer Leonard arched an eyebrow at me but thankfully his expression had morphed back into his usual amiable mask. He looked over his shoulder at David and then back to me. “We’re not in the habit of snipping fingers off.”

  “That’s good to know.” I patted Oz’s hands, which were resting on the table. “I like Mr Salier’s fingers just the way they are.” I’d meant it as a snappy, off the cuff quip to steer away from the Katie topic, but Officer Leonard’s other eyebrow raised so they both inched towards his hairline. “I mean, attached to his hands, where they should be. For doing stuff. Like, y’know, things you need a full set of fingers for.”

  Officer Leonard’s lips twitched as he leaned forward over the desk. “And what might he need a full set of fingers for?”

  “Y’know.” I shrugged, not able to think of one specific thing. “Life.”

  Officer Leonard jerked his head in Oz’s direction. “But he’s dead.”

  “Hey.” Oz rapped his knuckles on the table to get everyone’s attention. “How about we just stay on topic.”

  “But this is fascinating.” Officer Leonard shook his head, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Why were you at Fenton’s apartment, Ms Sway?” Officer Leonard changed the direction so fast he nearly gave me whiplash.

  “Why shouldn’t I have been at Fenton’s apartment?” I kept my shoulders relaxed and my body language open, projecting I’m-innocent-of-everything as loudly as I could.

  “Well, you were trespassing. You were unaccompanied. You didn’t have your parole officer’s permission—”

  “She did,” Oz interrupted. “I got caught up and told her to go on ahead. It was my error.”

  “You told your ward to trespass? At a crime scene?”

  “I wasn’t aware it was a crime scene, but yes. Bridget has had a tough time adjusting so I thought it would help her find some closure.”

  “So what you’re telling me is she was in no way to blame for the laws she broke tonight?” Officer Leonard asked.

  “She had my permission, so she broke no laws.”

  “Why were you at his apartment?” Officer Leonard repeated, mirroring my body language.

  “I’m having a tough time adjusting. Going to Fenton’s apartment helped me find some closure.” I leaned back in my chair, forcefully resisting the urge to fold my arms so I wouldn’t appear defensive. Inn-o-cent.

  “I don’t know.” Officer Leonard shook his head. “You seem fairly well adjusted to me.”

  “That’s because I have an excellent and understanding parole officer who takes care of me.”

  “Is that right?” Officer Leonard’s eyes flicked to Oz, Oz’s fingers and then back to me. I felt a blush warm my cheeks. “There has been a great deal of gossip circulating about your relationship with the deceased.” Officer Leonard changed tack and shuffled those papers again, implying the gossip was detailed in written statements.

  “I wasn’t aware that gossip was now the equal of evidence,” Oz said and relaxed back in his chair. Everyone was oh-so-very relaxed. No drama here.

  “It’s not, of course, Officer Salier.” Officer Leonard inclined his head politely. “But it does raise several issues we’ll need clarification on.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “Evening, all.” Detective Johnson walked in, mug of coffee in one hand and a plastic orange chair in the other. “Don’t mind me. You all just carry on.” He set the chair next to me at the head of the table, took a loud swig of coffee and checked all his jacket pockets until he found his notebook. He set his mug down and flipped through his notebook until he found what he was looking for. “Now, what did I miss?”

  ∞

  “Jeez, you look awful.” Sabrina sat next to me at lunch. “And if you’re drinking coffee, it must be bad.”

  “The same questions over and over again. All night.” I sipped my very sugary coffee, trying to keep my eyes open. “It wouldn’t have been so bad except they let me go just before work.”

  Sabrina winced. “Harsh.”

  I nodded. Thankfully my assignments had been on the simple side. “Long gone are the days when I could be out all night and in work the next day with no ill effects.”

  “So, what happened?” Sabrina took a healthy bite of her burger and waited expectantly.

  “Nothing, really.” I sipped my coffee again and stared out over the rapidly filling canteen. “They asked about my relationship with Fenton mostly, but that was about it.”

  “They tunnelled you before we could do anything,” Sabrina apologised, taking another bite of her burger as I watched with envy. I’d opted for a light chicken wrap; my hunger pangs were the only things keeping me awake.

  I shrugged. “There was no point you both getting caught as well.”

  “Why did you open the door anyway?” Sabrina dipped one of her fries in ketchup then mayonnaise. I grabbed her arm before she could pop it in her mouth. “What?” She stared at the chip as if it were poisoned.

  “Tell me you saw the girl.” I shook her arm slightly when she paused before answering.

  “Just the back of her head.” Sabrina looked at my grip on her wrist. “Why?”

  “Damn it.” I sighed and released her wrist. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

  “Forgot what?” Sabrina dropped the suspect chip back to her plate and wiped her hands on a napkin as if she’d finished eating. She had an unhealthy attitude towards food at the best of times and I’d just ruined the first sign of a normal appetite from her. Go me.

  “Because that was Jeremy’s informant.”

  Sabrina’s eyes stretched wide. “No.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Damn it.” Sabrina took a sip of her coffee and frowned at her burger as if it was responsible.

  “What’s up?” Pete asked, sitting down opposite me and starting on his pepperoni pizza before his bottom touched the bench.

  Sabrina coughed into her mug, nearly choking on her mouthful of coffee at Pete’s appearance. I gave her three sharp slaps on the back as Charlie joined us. I don’t think either of us had been expecting them to sit with us today, but then they hadn’t seen us last night, only we’d seen them, so why would they not?

  “Are you okay, Sabrina?” Charlie asked with what I could’ve sworn was genuine concern.

  “Fine,” she coughed, holding up her hand to ward off any help. “Just went down the wrong way.”

  “I’ll say, you sounded like a wildebeest in heat,” Pete said around his slice of pizza.

  Neither of us responded to his remark. Sabrina reached for a bottle of water and I finished off the last of my wrap in silence. We hadn’t had a chance to discuss their appearance last night, but the very fact they’d shown up looking for the notebook had to put them in the “bad guys” category.

  Pete glanced between us. “You both okay?”

  “Fine,” we said in unison.

  “You sure?” Pete cast a brief look at Charlie. “Bridge, you look shattered.”

  “Hi, guys, sorry to interrupt.” A blond, skinny guy in a navy jumpsuit appeared at the head of our table. “I don’t know how well you knew them, but we’re having a memorial service today after work for Jim, Fenton and Bertha. Will you all be attending?”

  Pete and Charlie nodded.

  I gestured between Sabrina and me. “We might have a GA meeting.” Sabrina scowled at me but I was already in enough tro
uble with Oz for not going straight home after the meeting last night. I was not going to intentionally aggravate the situation. If he wanted to, he could make the next ten years of my afterlife incredibly difficult. And it was bad enough as it was.

  “Ah, well.” He handed us his clipboard so we could add our names to the list. “You’ll likely come with them, then. But if you two change your minds or can’t make it,” he said nodding to Pete and Charlie. “If you can just let one of those guys know and they’ll cross you off.” He pointed in the direction of a small group of people at the far end of the canteen milling around with clipboards. “Health and safety reason, y’know?”

  “That’s a nice idea.” Charlie returned to his food, scooping a healthy sized mouthful of shepherd’s pie onto his fork as the boy moved on to the next table.

  “Hmm,” I agreed, still staring at the group the man had pointed out. Something about it was niggling at me. Alex was there, naturally, and as he moved to the side to check something against another person’s list, I got a glimpse of the girl to his right. A memory clicked into place so forcefully I might have actually jerked.

  Sabrina snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Bridget?”

  Everyone at the table was staring at me. Abruptly aware my mouth was hanging slightly ajar, I closed it.

  “I, er …” I got up from the table and, after taking a quick sip of my coffee, piled the remains of my lunch on the tray. “I need to go.”

  “What’s the hurry all of a sudden?” Pete’s eyes narrowed at me, his pizza forgotten as he spared a quick glance at the group of organisers I’d been staring at.

  “Oh. I, er, I …” After casting round for a decent explanation, I latched onto the first one I could think of. “I lost my locker key. Need to get a replacement.”

  As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Recognition flashed in Pete’s eyes but he covered it quickly.

  “You should probably go and sort that out, then,” Pete said and turned all of his attention back to his pizza before I scurried off to the other side of the canteen.

  “What the hell was that?” Sabrina snapped when she caught me up, shoving her own dirty dishes through the kitchen hatch after mine. “I can’t believe you just gave us up like that.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I walked as quickly but calmly as I could to the doors and out into the corridor. “It was the first excuse I thought of.”

  Sabrina shoved her hands on her hips expectantly. “And we needed an excuse because?”

  “Jeremy’s informant?” I whispered, moving a little further away from the doors and to one side of the corridor to keep out of the way of passers-by. “The girl searching his apartment last night?”

  “Yeah?” Sabrina dropped her hands and moved closer.

  “That was her.” I jabbed my finger in her direction on the other side of the wall. “It was one of Fenton’s friends. The girl with the attitude and the makeup? The Barbie wannabe, remember?”

  “Ohhhhhh.” Recognition lit Sabrina’s eyes, quickly followed by uncertainty. “Really?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t believe it had taken me that long to work it out. “So what do we do now?”

  “Oh, okay.” Sabrina faltered. “Well …”

  “We can’t tell David until the GA meeting tonight,” I whispered, smiling politely at two other trainee facilitators who headed past us to the canteen. “That’s if the meeting’s back on.”

  Sabrina rubbed the back of her neck and stared at the opposite wall. “And we’re sure it was her?”

  I nodded vehemently. “We are so sure it was her.”

  “Then we pass that on to David tonight, like you said,” Sabrina agreed after a long pause. “Kind of anti-climactic though, don’t you think?”

  I nodded, feeling oddly empty. “And now Pete and Charlie know we’re onto them.”

  “That might turn out to be a good thing,” Sabrina mused.

  “How?”

  “Well.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “If they’re our murderers, it might force their hands.”

  I nodded with a sarcastic smile. “Great.”

  Not seeing the problem, Sabrina frowned. “What?”

  “Not to rain on your positivity parade, but I’m pretty sure if you force the hand of a murderer, you’re going to end up murdered. And, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten,” I said and pointed to my back. “Death shroud!”

  ∞

  The brief excitement of the afternoon had drained the minimal energy reserves I’d had left. By late afternoon all I could think about was my bed. My bed and Jeremy’s informant. It didn’t feel right that we would tell David and that would be it. It felt like an empty victory. But then I didn’t see that there was anything else we could do. We could confront her with our suspicions but that would get us either a denial or a teary confession. Neither were ideal outcomes since we couldn’t do anything whichever way it went, but I’d have felt better.

  I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t see Pete until I nearly walked past him. The assignment had been on the promenade, and with it being a beautiful sunny afternoon in the middle of summer it was packed. In my sleepy state, I’d become so task orientated that I’d stopped seeing people as people and more like obstacles to avoid. Pete was leaning against the railings separating the pavement from the sandy beach, arms folded across his chest, one leg crossed over the other, sleeves rolled up and enjoying the sunshine.

  “A little bit ditzy today, aren’t you?” he asked as I casually took a couple of steps back.

  “Little bit.” I nodded, scratching my neck while he wasn’t looking to loosen Oz’s whistle should I need it. If he was the killer, surely he wouldn’t murder me in front of all these people. Then again, none of these people could see us. That thought didn’t exactly fill me with confidence.

  “Late night?”

  I shook my head. “Not really.”

  “No?” Pete frowned, not moving from his relaxed position. “Weren’t you at the police station all night?”

  “They asked me not to mention it to anyone,” I said, amazed by my sleepy brain’s quick thinking. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “I hear things.”

  “That’s called tinnitus.” I tapped my ear and pointed to him. “You should get that checked out.”

  “I like you Bridget.” Pete grinned. “You’re a smart girl.”

  “I’m twenty-seven.” I folded my arms and pursed my lips at him. “Calling me a girl is patronising. At best.”

  Pete raised an eyebrow. “It’s never bothered you before.”

  “You weren’t patronising me before.”

  He laughed and held up his hands. “You got me there.”

  “Is there something specific I can help you with, Pete?” I glanced around us at the beautiful scene. “Or are you just out for a stroll?”

  “What’s going on, Bridget?” Pete adopted the tone of a teacher trying to coax a student into telling them her problems. “What happened at lunch? And don’t say nothing.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  Pete stayed where he was. He made no move towards me. “You could always start with the truth and see where that takes us.”

  “There are a lot of truths in the world. Can you be a little more specific about the one you’re looking for?”

  Pete laughed softly, shaking his head to himself. “I really do like you, Bridget.” I backed up a step, fingering the whistle around my neck. Pete noted the change and cocked his head. “What?”

  “That’s usually what nice murderers say before they kill you, so I’m just preparing to tunnel and blow this whistle really hard.” I held the whistle up for him to see with a polite smile. No need to antagonise the man.

  Pete’s face crinkled into a full-face frown. “You think I’m a murderer.”

  “I think you’re a nice murderer, Pete,” I enunciated. “A nice murderer.”

  “Well.” He huffed out a breath. “Isn’t that charming?”


  “I try my best,” I said with a half shrug. “I saw you threatening Fenton, and you and Charlie fell for Sabrina’s trap and went looking for the notebook. A notebook that held enough information on people to get them arrested.”

  “Hmm.” Pete nodded at me. “When you say it like that, I don’t look like such a good guy.”

  I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”

  “And how do you know what the notebook contained?” Pete asked.

  “I’m a good guesser.” It was the best response I could think of that wasn’t going to either give away I had the book or make me an even bigger target if he assumed I knew accurately what was in it.

  Pete narrowed his eyes at me. Suddenly my back felt very exposed. I wanted to whirl around and check there was no one behind me but I didn’t want to take my eyes off Pete. Then I blinked and he was gone. I spun in a circle looking for him among the crowd or for a blunt object flying towards my head. Everything seemed ominously calm. I wasn’t sure I believed he’d murdered anyone. Then again, I hadn’t had much interaction with murderers in my life so, really, how could I tell?

  A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. I yelped, spun, attacked the elbow with the edge of my clipboard and tunnelled. Only after I’d landed in a noisy office, gasping for breath and slouching against the wall, did I realise it hadn’t been Pete.

  The blond post boy appeared the other side of the water cooler, hands raised to show he meant me no harm. “Sorry, lady. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He offered me an envelope. “Just had a letter for you. Bridget Sway?”

  I nodded, giving him a shaky smile, and took the letter. “My fault. Sorry about your elbow.”

  “Don’t worry about it, a lot of you guys get that way. Take it easy.” He gave me a mock salute and disappeared.

  “I’ll try.” I opened the letter and read it aloud. “Eleanor asked me to let you all know that our GA meeting is on for this evening and is going to be held at Manor Road Church Hall for the foreseeable future. See you tonight, Sally.” I stared down at the letter. “Who the hell is Sally?”