by Natasha Deen
“If you’re a regular person, heaven’s hard to get into. If you were a guy in the bible, then I think you got a reserved spot, no matter what. Lot committed incest and made it into heaven. David murdered a man and got in, Solomon had a sex addiction, and Elijah had serious anger problems.”
Wowsa. “Trust me, if those guys got in, you’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t think that’s what’s holding you here.”
“Me either.” He looked away, pulled Ebony into his arms. She purred and gave him her belly. “Have you ever seen hell?”
I shook my head. “No, but I don’t think you’re headed there.”
“How do you know?”
I made a face. “Dunno—I just…the sense I get is hell always claims its souls. If you were doomed, you’d be there by now.”
“Some comfort.” He scratched the cat under her chin.
She purred harder and snuggled into him.
“What now?”
“I don’t know. Dad’s afraid if I keep trying to figure out what’s holding you, whoever killed you is going to come after me.”
“The great and mighty reverend.”
“What?”
“He killed me.”
I stared at him. “You remember that?”
He shook his head.
“Then how can you be sure?”
He shot me a look. “It had to be him—it was always just a matter of time.” He trailed his fingers along Ebony’s tail. “I bet if I proved it, I could cross over.”
“You think vengeance is holding you back?”
“Justice,” he said. “It could only be that.”
I shifted closer to him. “How do we prove it?”
He gave a humourless laugh. “What a life. What an afterlife. You don’t know about hell, for sure, do you?”
I rolled my eyes and hid behind annoyance so he wouldn’t know my uncertainty. “You’re not going to hell.”
“I am.”
The thought of him burning in eternity made my stomach hurt. “We don’t have to solve this—you could stay here—”
“And haunt you forever?” He gave me a small smile. “Don’t you think I’ve shadowed your life for long enough?”
“But—”
“I deserve it.” The words came, full of quiet conviction. “I never faced up to anything in my life. And I hurt a lot of people. All the time. I can’t run from that. I won’t. It’s cowardly and I spent my life being a coward—I’m not going to be that in my afterlife, no matter what.”
I didn’t know what to say, except, “How do we prove your dad murdered you?”
“I have a flash drive,” he said. “I keep it hidden in my locker. Get it and take it to the sheriff. If I have to pay”—his face hardened—“so does he.”
Chapter Twenty
I headed downstairs and found Dad at the desktop in the family room. “Hey.”
He turned his head, but kept his eyes on the screen. “Come here. I’ve been looking up those aura colours.”
“Yeah?” Pulling my hand out of my kangaroo hoodie, I walked to him. “What do they mean?”
He squinted. “I’m not sure. I think the colours are on a scale. Green can be anything from healing to jealousy.” He rolled the chair back and gestured for me to look at the screen. “White is the melding of all energies.”
I scanned the definitions, went back to the search engine’s list, and scanned a few more websites. “This is so not helpful. I’ve never been jealous of Serge, but it was me glowing green, not him.”
Dad grunted and took a sip of coffee. “It had to be healing.”
“Yeah…we seem…better.”
“So, you’re not the reason he’s still here.”
I pressed my lips together and grimaced. “Yeah, about that…”
He set the mug down, extra slow. “What?”
I told him about Serge’s flash drive and his theory.
Dad covered his mouth with his hand. “He really thinks his dad killed him.”
“He’s sure of it.”
“What a life this kid led.”
“Yeah,” I said, wishing I’d been bigger and smarter enough to see the truth behind Serge’s shadow and mirror tricks. “I should be okay. If I get the drive—”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know, but he thinks it’ll get Reverend Popov convicted for his murder.”
The chair squeaked as Dad leaned back. He folded his hands, rested them on his belly, and pressed his lips together. “All you have to do is get a flash drive and give it to Nancy?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s at the school.” I paused. “Bright daylight. Lots of adults and kids…”
“Don’t oversell.” He sighed. “Okay, if that’s all you have to do.”
“I swear.”
“Go before I change my mind.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I parked in the student lot. Serge had stayed home, but he’d given me the combination to his lock.
“You have to push the back wall a bit,” he’d said, “but it’s hidden in there.”
“What’s on it?”
“You’ll see.”
I got out of the car. The sun was bright but even the blue sky couldn’t mitigate the ice-cold wind. I yanked my coat close and headed to the main entrance. The door was locked.
“Blood drive today.”
I whirled around and grinned. “Craig.”
“Hey.” He wrapped his arms around me.
I buried my face in the warmth of his neck and inhaled the scent of him.
“I thought you were sick—you must be feeling better.”
I nodded. My check rubbed against the soft fibres of his hoodie.
He pulled away, cupped my jaw in his hand. “I’m glad.”
His lips touched mine. Cold skin, warm breath, wet mouth.
Wow, he tasted good.
Craig broke the kiss and smiled down at me. “Wanna go inside?”
I wrapped my arms around him. “No. I want to stay here, in this moment.”
He laughed. “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.” Craig took my hand and led me to another entrance.
On the wall, white cardboard paper with large, red drops of blood directed donors to the blood bank.
“I should donate,” I said.
“Yeah, but you’re sick—or at least you were—”
“No, I’m better, now.” I pulled him through the obstacle course of kids wandering the hall. “Besides, Nell’s one of the organizers and I should say ‘hey.’”
We moved past the windows that bordered the library and the main office. The hallway opened into the front foyer of the school. And there was Nell, sitting at a white cloth covered table.
I let go of Craig’s hand and deked around the lineup of students and teachers waiting to give blood. “Hey.”
Nell looked up. Her eyes brightened. Jumping to her feet and stretching across the table, she grabbed me in a bear hug. “OhmyGod.” The words came out in one syllable.
I leaned back and stared at her soldier-style jacket and marine-green cargos. “What’s with the dictator getup? Your first year as blood drive organizer and you go all despot in your clothes?”
“Don’t knock it. The military design gives respect. Besides, we have to do good—this is the first year the blood bank’s allowed students to organize and run the drive.” She looked around. “Isn’t it great? We’ve had a lineup since this morning.”
I didn’t point out the crowd was mostly boys and Nell was showing some really sweet cleavage.
Her eyes searched mine. Pulling me to one side, away from the crowd, she asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
Her gaze jumped over my right shoulder—probably to Craig—then came back to me. “So�
�you’ve been awfully quiet about a certain polo captain…”
“Some things shouldn’t be put in text—”
Her gaze assessed me. Then she grinned. “That good?”
“I’m no longer single.”
She did a tiny jig. “Awesome,” she whispered. Her smile froze. The happiness on her face sank like a sunset, taking colour and light from her skin. “What about”—she glanced around—“you-know-who.”
“Not so good.” Reality sobered me. “I need to get to his locker and get something for him.”
She gripped my hand. “Can I help?”
I shook my head. “No—there’s lots to talk about, but I don’t have time.”
“Okay.” She let go. “After school.”
“Maybe.”
She grabbed my hand. “No maybes. Definitely.”
I grinned. “Okay. Definitely.”
Nell pushed the sleeves of her jacket over her forearms. “It’s too bad he’s gone,” she said. “He was one of the few people in this town with type AB blood.”
I thought about the red liquid spilling from Serge and spreading out on the floor. “Yeah, it’s too bad.”
“More than too bad.” A smile that held no humour lifted the side of her mouth. “He wasn’t good for much, but that was one thing he was necessary for.”
An unfamiliar spike of protection—for Serge—impaled my heart and I had to fight the urge to snap at Nell.
My instinctive reaction must have shown on my face because she said, “Wow. We really do have a lot to talk about.”
The smell of bacon overwhelmed me.
Her face darkened with worry and she reached out to me. “Jeez. You okay?”
“It’s such a long story,” I said. I took a breath and let the air decompress the tight feeling in my chest. “So long and complicated.”
“We’ll go to your house after school,” she said. “And you’ll tell me everything.”
I nodded.
Her gaze flicked past me. Her smile showed the dimples on her cheeks. “Your boyfriend’s coming.”
And there was a complication I hadn’t anticipated. How was I going to get away from him and get to Serge’s locker? I moulded to Craig’s body as he slid his arm around my waist.
“Cute couple,” said Nell.
I tilted my head back and met his gaze. “Did you donate blood?”
“Not yet.”
“We might as well do it now, while we’re here.”
He shrugged. “Okay, sure.”
“Great.” I stepped back. “I’m just going to—uh—run to the bathroom.”
Nell rolled her eyes at my awkward attempt to be smooth.
Craig’s eyes narrowed. “You okay?”
“Um-hmm. Just gotta do…girl stuff.” Wow. I am so lame. James Bond has nothing to worry about when it comes to me taking over his spy job.
My friends glanced at each other.
“See you in a bit,” said Craig.
I ducked away. First job: get the flash drive from Serge’s locker. Second job: figure out how I’m going to do ghost work while having a boyfriend. I sped past the auditorium and hung a left. The biology class was off this hallway, and the smell of formaldehyde seeped under the crack in the orange door and filled my mind with images of frozen frogs, dead baby pigs, and lidless cow eyes.
At the end of the hall, I turned right. The corridor was mostly deserted, with just a couple kids sitting by their lockers, eating lunches from cloth bags. I headed to the end of the hallway, where Serge’s locker stood. As I drew closer, my steps faltered.
Dang.
The door was open and the locker was definitely empty.
Of course the school would have cleaned out his stuff and sent it to his parents.
I was going to head back to the blood drive when a familiar face turned the corner.
“Nancy?”
She was in uniform—the puke-beige colour that seemed to wash out every complexion but hers. Nancy glanced at the principal who was standing by her and then said to me, “Hey, honey. We need to talk.”
“Oh, I so don’t like your tone.” I stepped toward her. She smelled of currants and roses, lotus blossoms and vanilla. I took her hand.
It was cold.
Her hands are never cold.
“Nancy?”
“Honey, I thought you were sick.” Her eyes slid sideways to Principal Milton Larry, who was doing a weird stand-shuffle thing. His face was squished together like he had diarrhea and was trying not to have an accident. “The school said your dad phoned you in.”
“Um, yeah, but I was feeling better, so…”
She nodded in acknowledgment. “Which is why we couldn’t reach you at home.”
In my stomach, fear scurried on insectile legs and made the hair on my arms rise. “What’s going on?”
“I tried you on your cell—”
Dropping her hand, I yanked my phone out of my coat. “It’s dead.” Ice lodged in my gut. “I know I charged—”
“Get to the point, Nancy,” said the principal.
My eyes slid from the black screen of my phone to Principal Larry, to Nancy.
“I need you to come to the station with me.”
I loved Nancy, trusted her, but her tone made me step back. “Why?”
She glanced over my shoulder.
I turned.
The kids at the locker were staring.
“Nancy?”
“Mikhail Popov got an email—”
I blinked. “What?”
She licked her lips and lifted her hand, palm-up.
“Did you send him email and pretend to be his son?” asked Principal Larry. He leaned in towards me, and the saggy skin of his neck wobbled.
“What?” I jerked back, partly from shock, mostly because the principal wore cheap cologne that made my nose burn.
Nancy shot him a dirty look. “Honey, I know it’s not you, but the email address is listed as yours, and you need to come with me.”
I backpedalled. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’s meeting us at the station.” Nancy’s blue eyes held mine. “You don’t have to say anything, Maggie. I know you didn’t send Mikhail that message, but we still need to talk.”
“But if you did,” said Principal Larry in his high-pitched whine, “you’ll be expelled. This school doesn’t find pranks like that funny, young lady.”
“Kiss my ass,” I snapped. “Serge bullied and harassed me, shoved me into lockers and destroyed my property, but he got to stay in school. But the rumour of me sending an email and you’re ready to kick me out. Aren’t you the tough educator?”
His lips pruned together; his skin flushed beet red. “Listen here—”
Nancy restrained the principal by putting her hand on shoulder. “Can it, Milton. She’s fine.” The sheriff beckoned me to come to her. “Let’s go to the station and get this sorted, okay?”
I took a hesitant step forward.
She gripped my hand and said, “It’ll be fine. Promise.”
Yeah. Right.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dead Falls didn’t have much in the way of crime, and the police station looked more like a reject from a ’70s cop show than a modern facility. There were no glass buildings or high-tech security passcodes here. Instead, the station was a box with a main counter that ran the length of the room, with four scarred wood desks, almond-coloured metal cabinets, and the smell of stale coffee.
“Have a seat by my desk,” said Nancy, “and we’ll figure this out.”
“Okay.”
She took off her brown coat and hung it on the rack. Unholstering her gun, she stuck it in the top drawer of her desk.
“Can I use the bathroom?”
“Sure.” She nodded towards the white
door. “Go ahead.”
“Do you need to watch me or—”
“No. You’re not a suspect. I was only placating Milton.” A smiled ghosted her eyes. “I’ll talk him down from suspending you for telling him to kiss your ass.”
I rolled my eyes. “He deserved it.”
“I know.”
I left the main area. The bathroom was a white toilet, rusted sink, and handrails. I flipped on the lights. A few seconds later, the overhead fan hummed to life. Nice and loud. Good. I closed my eyes and thought of Serge. When I opened my eyes, he stood in front of me…with no shirt on.
Or pants.
“Are you kidding?” I hissed.
“What?” He scratched his chest. “I was lounging.” He ran his hand through his hair and gave me a worried grin. “I thought vegging would leave me less freaked about what’s going on, but truth is…”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Listen, can you put on some clothes? You’re distracting?”
“Yeah?” A slow smile spread across his face.
“Not that kind of distracting, genius.”
He shrugged.
I blinked and he was dressed in a red sweater, sneakers, and jeans.
“So?”
“When we used the computer, did you send any email?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Your dad got some email signed from you—”
The blood rushed from his face. “Sorry, Maggie.”
“You—” I glanced at the door and lowered my voice. “You emailed your dad.”
“Not on purpose! I was just thinking about all the things I’d never said to him but wished I had.”
I groaned.
“You didn’t tell me that would happen—”
“Holy crap. You were using the computer to talk to my dad. How did it not occur to you—?”
“Maggie.” A sharp rapping sounded at the door. “Honey, are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah, Nancy. Almost done.” I moved to the toilet and pressed the cold metal lever. Then I went to the sink and let the water run for a bit. Glancing at Serge, I said, “Stay with me. I have no idea what’s going on, but I might need you to give me answers to Nancy’s questions.”
