Wow. I definitely didn't expect that. "Sometimes."
We continue to stare at my ceiling.
I take a deep breath and try one more time. "Why won't you tell me who killed you?"
"Because then it'll all be over. I won't have a reason to stay."
I turn my head and stared at her. "What?"
She looks at me. "Being dead sucks. I want my life back. Since I can't have it, I'll settle for hanging around you. You don't mind, right?"
I smile, suddenly feeling happy and wanted. "And if I did?"
She shrugs. "Too bad."
We turn back to the ceiling.
"You should repaint it," Linzy says, pointing to the chipped paint.
I smile.
* * *
The next morning I stay in my room until Dad goes out for breakfast or the paper or maybe for another smooch-fest with the chief. I need to text Troy, to find out what he's thinking. After I calmed down last night, I realized that this thing with our parents only sucks if they get married, making Troy and me brother and sister. Eww! But if they only date, then why can't Troy and I date too? Of course, there's the possibility that he's as skeeved out by all of this as I am…was, and we lost any chance at an "us" because of them.
I head down and grab the last banana and an almost stale bagel. I want to get back to my room before Dad returns. But as I past his office door, I stop. Okay, maybe I'm still pissed. The idea of snooping sounds perfect right now, so I open the door and step inside.
I go around the desk, tossing my food onto it, and grab the drawer with all the files. It's locked. Oh, come on, Dad. I've been so good lately. I haven't tried to get in here in weeks.
I search for his letter opener, under the stack of papers he has scattered along the desk. How does he find anything? The tip pokes out from beneath a gas receipt. I grab it and push the blade between the panels of wood. Only the tip fits in. I tighten my grip on the handle and attempt to jab it in harder, but I stare at the wood. The stupid desk that is Dad's pride and joy, after me and his books. He'd be upset if I marred it. Despite how angry I am now, I don't want to see him sad.
I toss the letter opener back onto the desk and sit in his chair. Maybe he left out something interesting. I lift sheet after sheet, looking for a juicy bit.
Cameron liked to drink a lot of wine. He went out to dinner more than we order take-out, which is crazy. And he had an obsession with black licorice. Gross.
I comb through the rest of the receipts. It's not crime scene photos or autopsy reports, but it gives me some insight into who he was. But I'd kill for a look at Dad's notes. I giggle at my word choice and spot a receipt for over a grand.
Ka-Ching! What's he spending that kind of money on?
Spring Jewelers in New York City.
Listed is a pair of diamond wrist cuffs (How fancy!) and a silver star charm.
The world seems to tilt because suddenly my vision tunnels, and I feel lightheaded. I reread the page five times to make sure I'm seeing things correctly.
Cameron bought that charm for someone. Did he get it for Linzy? Was she secretly seeing a grown man? Is that why she's been so hush-hush?
Oh, I think I'm going to puke. He was at least ten years older than her.
I put the receipt down and stand. I pace the length of Dad's office and back.
This doesn't make sense. Why would she go for him and not the young, hot actors on her show? No, this is wrong. She was into Eli, not Cameron. So then how did Linzy get the charm? Did she break into his place and steal it? I could just ask her, but she probably won't answer me.
I race back to Dad's desk and grab the paper. Cameron purchased the charm in March. He was killed in August. How likely is it that Linzy stole the charm before he gave it to whoever he bought it for? And why would Linzy break into his place?
I remember the binoculars and camera in her nightstand, the money in her closet. Cameron's house is directly behind Linzy's. She had the back bedroom. Like a stack of Lego's, it all starts to fit together.
The same person who killed Cameron also killed Linzy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
When Dad walks through the garage door, I'm seated on his floor with the receipt and Linzy's file laid out around me. He opens his mouth, but I hold up a finger. Not that one, my index.
"Don't yell. Yes, I know I shouldn't be in here, but for once you're going to love that I'm disobedient." I snatch the receipt and jump up.
I point to the list. "See. This is the charm I found. The one I told you about. I know it."
Dad takes the sheet from me and stares at it. The skin between his brows puckers. He looks at the papers on the floor and walks to them. He picks up the autopsy report and lays a finger on the crime scene photos. "Where did you get these?"
I return to my seat, suddenly wondering if this was the right idea. "You won't tell your girlfriend?"
"Olivia is not my girlfriend."
Yet. I see the smile in his eyes. He'd be a horrible poker player.
"Well?" he asks.
"Troy copied Linzy's file. Please don't get him in trouble. He'll never forgive me." And there will go my chances of becoming his girlfriend.
"I won't say anything. Maybe I should hire him. He's thorough." Dad sits on the floor and reads each of the pages.
I watch his expression change from a raised brow to a squint and back again.
When he's done, he looks up at me. "But you don't know for certain this is the same charm you found that night?"
I shake my head. "No, but…"
"Then all we have is a receipt." He starts to rise.
"No," I shout a bit louder than intended.
He frowns and sits fully back down.
"Look, I know you don't like when I snoop or try to get involved. I really do get it. You're protecting me. And if you didn't, if sneaking in here didn't give me heart palpitations, then I wouldn't love you so much."
He smiles. "But?"
"But being young doesn't mean I'm stupid."
He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "You're right. I shouldn't dismiss your idea simply because I don't want you involved. And for the record, I never think you're stupid."
It's my turn to smile. "So here's the thing. There's more to this than just what's on the floor."
He raises a brow. "Oh. Like what?"
I open my mouth and hesitate. "Um, how about we make a deal? I tell you all I know about Linzy's death, and you tell me all you know about Cameron's. And together we can see if my theory's correct."
Instead of immediately saying no, he looks down at the papers.
I hold my breath. Is it possible he'll agree? Can pigs suddenly fly? Is Lucifer slipping into ice skates?
He nods. "Okay. Let's do it."
Wait, what? "Seriously?"
He chuckles. "I think the charm may be a coincidence, but you think otherwise, so we should share information. Go ahead and tell me what else you know."
I hesitate for a second, wondering if he'll pull a fast one. Like I'll tell him everything, and then he won't reciprocate. But this is Dad, and he wouldn't do that to me. I hope. I first explain my list of suspects: Shayla, April, Mrs. Quinn, Eli, and Margo, who I never spoke with. I tell Dad that Shayla gave me this hate list, never revealing the news that I can see Linzy. I want him to take me seriously. For some reason, thankfully, he doesn't ask why Shayla would list herself.
I'd transferred all my notes to my new diary (Gotta get use out of it somehow.) and point out each suspect's motives. Then I finish with the binoculars and the money.
Dad runs his fingers through his hair. "So you think she witnessed Cameron's murder and was blackmailing his killer?"
"Yes."
"That would take a very manipulative young girl."
I roll my eyes. "Dad, Linzy wasn't nice. She was spoiled and jealous and vicious." Gosh, I hope she's not listening. Even though it's all true, it's kinda mean to say. Plus, the last thing I need is her coming at me with a blanket.
<
br /> "I need coffee." Dad gets up with a groan and goes to the coffee maker.
I stay seated but turn to him. "So, it's your turn."
He glances at me from the corner of his eye. If he even considers backing out of our deal…
"Cameron was flashy but private. He bought the diamond cuffs for a charity event he'd been invited too, but there's no mention of what he did with the charm. It definitely sounds like something you'd give to a teen or a child, but as far as I've found, he didn't have children, siblings, or any young children in his immediate family."
Yes! I bite the inside of my cheek so I don't smile and remind Dad how young I am. Well, in his mind. I know I'm perfectly capable of hearing the truth. I get up and sit in one of the chairs facing his desk. "But it's definitely something you'd give a girl not a boy."
Dad nods. "It could've been a present for a child of a friend."
It's too much of a coincidence if he gave it to some obscure person, and then I find one exactly the same the night Linzy disappeared.
"The police believe his accountant killed him because Mr. Nelson was embezzling money from each of his clients. He has no alibi, so he looks good for it." Dad turns and sits at his desk. "But he had no real motive too. According to statements made after Nelson's arrest, Cameron never knew about the embezzling but another client did. I talked to that client, and he confirmed it. He'd found out about it the morning Nelson was arrested. He didn't come forward because he figured Nelson was guilty."
"Nice."
"Exactly." Dad glances at the machine, which has finished brewing, and grabs the giant mug that could pose as a small fish bowl.
"So do you think this other client killed Cameron and then framed the accountant?"
"No. That would mean he'd need to know Nelson was skimming off Cameron's books, too. An easy guess, but if he was wrong, his house of cards would fall down. And he has no motives to want Cameron dead either. From what I can tell, the two never met."
"What about the girlfriend?"
Dad quirks a brow at me. "Obviously I'm getting old and hadn't realized you snooped before today."
"No. I just know how to Google. Come on, Dad. The girlfriend being a suspect was all over the news."
He sips his coffee. "I forget that you think crime hunting is a hobby. Forgive me. The girlfriend was so distraught over Cameron's death, she had a nervous breakdown and was admitted to the hospital."
Wow, that seems so intense. I guess I never thought how a death can cause so much grief. It may sound stupid, but I don't remember Vincent, and all the other deaths I've been around haven't been personal. Until now. "Could Chloe be faking it?"
"Perhaps. This is what the district attorney's office wondered. They must've thought it was genuine because they didn't pursue it. I can't access that information. Sure you don't want to go to law school? Working for the state doesn't give you a lot of money, but you can catch the bad guys."
"I don't want to talk about the bad guys and try them in an unjust judicial system. I want to figure out who they are and track them down. Like this."
Dad leans back in his chair and just drinks his coffee for a moment. I can't tell if he's contemplating what I just said or considering shutting me out. "Let's leave the actual tracking to the police, okay?"
I smile wide. "Okay."
We spend hours combing through all the details of Cameron's death. I'm so stoked Dad lets me look at the autopsy and other reports. He doesn't just tell me the bits he thinks I can handle. I actually touch the papers. But by the time we're done, we're no closer to figuring out if Cameron's death and Linzy's are connected, though.
I gather Linzy's file while Dad reorganizes his desk. "What does this mean? What do you think?"
He shuts but doesn't lock his desk drawer. Point one for Piper. "I think we don't have enough. But I won't rule out that they're connected."
And that, for anyone not paying attention, is point two.
"You know, we're like Veronica and Keith Mars," I say.
He smirks. He doesn't follow a lot of television, but he sat with me and watched the first season on DVD a year ago.
"I'm still waiting on more information into Cameron's life," he says. "I put a call in to a local reporter who did a series of interviews with Cameron a couple of months before his death. He's sending me his research material. Is there any way to go back through Linzy's things and try to find where she got the money from?"
I stand before his desk. "I can try, but we tore apart her room. Maybe I can find a file on her computer or something."
"You still have it?"
I nod.
"I can find an IT guy."
"The police already went through it."
"We both know they sometimes miss things. They're human."
I hate to point out that if he proves the cops messed up Cameron's case and sent the wrong man to prison, Dad will probably lose points with Olivia. So I don't say a word. My stomach, however, grumbles. "I'm hungry. Are we doing take-out or leftovers?"
"Whichever you want. I could call for pizza." He's looking over the notes he made on Linzy's death.
"I'd rather leftovers." They're quicker, and I'm sick of pizza.
I turn to head to the kitchen and stop. All afternoon I've been thinking of how Cameron's girlfriend had a nervous breakdown and landed in the hospital. Is that why Mom left us? Is she still rotting away in some cell, drooling on her pillow?
"Dad, can I ask you something?"
He sets down the legal pad. "Of course, pumpkin. Anything."
Anything? Good. I swallow the lump in my throat. "Where's Mom?"
He looks up at me. "I don't know. I never lied about that."
Good to know. "Why did she leave? Really."
He rubs the muscles in the back of his neck. "She was sad after Vincent died."
"I know that. I want the non-politically correct answer."
He sits in his chair and sighs. That means he's going to tell me the whole truth, and I may want to sit.
I hurry to a chair and wait. I don't care if it takes him all day to finally admit whatever he's been hiding. I'm tired of not knowing.
"You didn't understand that Vincent was dead, that death was permanent. You'd ask when he was coming home."
My chest tightens. This is about me. I hoped Mom went crazy or she and Dad couldn't make it work anymore, anything but it being my fault.
"One day you no longer asked."
That's good, right?
"Your mother walked into Vincent's room and found you playing with his toy cars. Vincent used to get mad when you touched his things without asking. You looked at your mother and said, 'He said I could'. Mom knew you only said it to not get in trouble." Dad smiles.
I lied at age four, too?
"But as time went on, Mom often heard you talking to Vincent as if he was in the room with you."
I stifle a gasp.
"It shook your mother. She was having such a hard time dealing as is, and you were adamant about Vincent still being alive. You said you could see, talk, and play with him. She couldn't deal. She said she needed some time alone. She never returned."
So I drove my mother away?
Abeula was right. I've been able to see dead people my whole life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Dad and I scarf down PB&J sandwiches with milk and split the last pack of Lil' Debbie's Swiss Rolls. We eat in silence, no mention of Linzy or Cameron. No mention of the chief or Troy. And definitely no mention of Vincent or Mom. But my thoughts are filled with my family.
"Dad, what did you think when Mom said I was talking to Vincent?"
"What do you mean?"
I shrug, not sure how to answer without giving away my family-destroying secret.
When I don't reply, he says, "Mom left because she was depressed. It had nothing to do with you."
He can't be certain though. He doesn't know the whole truth. Maybe she could tell I was really talking to Vincent and decided I was too cra
zy to be around. "Then why did she never come back?"
He drinks his milk, probably trying to come up with a good excuse, something that will make me feel blameless, but it's too late. "I wish I knew. I thought she'd only be gone for a couple of weeks."
That she'd grieve some and realize how much she missed her husband and daughter?
He doesn't have the answers I need. The only one who does is Mom. Where is she now? I've thought about that question often over the years. This time it seems to have a different spin. This time I almost don't care. How can you abandon your family, your child, just because she's different?
When we're done, I clean up, rubbing the sponge on an imaginary stain on the counter. How dare she. I'm not crazy. It's not my fault I'm this way. She made me. But my anger has no place to go, other than the counter, and slowly it fizzles out. Not that I'm no longer angry, just sad. It's not fair. Why do I have to see dead people? It was cute and exciting in The Sixth Sense. But this is just cruel and…lonely.
"Dad, I'm going to see Kinley," I shout through his office door.
"Okay."
I step onto the front porch and immediately sweat. I walk down to the sidewalk and stop. I want to share this with someone. I need to, but Kinley and I are still on shaky terms. How do I just storm in there and tell her my news? What if she ends up hating me more? I can't risk that.
I tilt my head back and stare at the sky. It's filled with dark clouds. I love the smell and sound of rain. It's so peaceful. But I don't think it'll calm me now.
There's one person I can confide in. One person I don't care if she thinks I'm loony. I step off the curb and march across the street before I change my mind. Ohmigod, why am I doing this? She hates me, and I'm not fond of her. I knock on Shayla's door and realize that's exactly why.
When it opens, I'm holding my breath, hoping it's not one of the parents. There are no cars in the driveway, but I can't see inside the garage. Thankfully the universe is aligned because Shayla answers. She's still in her pajamas, a baby blue with white polka dots tank and shorts. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and her entire left jaw is black-and-blue.
"Ohmigod, what happened to you?"
I Spy Dead People Page 19
