Black-Eyed Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #1) (5 page)

"Did you tell them I did it?"

Eric's nostril
s 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 his 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 shoul
d say anything about this case."

"This case is my dead girlfriend," he shouted. "I want to know wh
at 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?"

I shrugged. "Just what you'd expect. Grief, anger."

"I'm trying to wrap my head around this," she said. "Zeke needs me, and he's shutting me out."

His world had been turned upside down, but during times like this, you seek comfort from those who care about you. Maybe he was just too embarrassed by it all or busy comforting his mother and helping with the twins.

Part of me was glad he was too pr
eoccupied to spend time with Tamzen, and that made me feel like a really awful person.

***

After I dropped Tamzen off, I headed home. I groaned when I remembered I needed to pack. As I turned the corner onto my street, my breath caught in my throat. Zeke's Jeep was parked in front of my house. I had a wild urge to whip the car around and flee in the opposite direction. But I gripped the wheel and sat straighter in the seat.
He doesn't bite.

I
pulled into the driveway. We got out of our cars at the same time.

"Hey," I said, trying to act like this was a normal occurrence. I watched him walk up the driveway. He stopped a few feet from me. Tendrils of sweat-dampened hair stuck to the side of his face.

"I want to ask you something," he said. Sunglasses blocked his eyes.

"Okay."

He walked toward me until we were inches apart. He removed the glasses. His eyes were red-rimmed. "You knew about my father?"

I nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn't know what to say.

"You knew he was screwing around. You didn't think that was something we needed to know?"

"I didn't think it was my place
, Zeke. I can't go around sharing people's private business—"

"Private business?" he said, his eyes widening. "You spend time in our house babysitting and having tea with my mother. My father cheating on her was none of her business?"

My stomach lurched. "That's not what I meant. Look, let's get out of the heat. You want to come in?"

Without waiting for a response, I
marched to the front door. When I stepped inside, the cool air hit my face in sweet relief. I headed for the kitchen and heard the front door close behind me. Zeke hadn't been inside our house in awhile.

"Still feels like the Arctic in here," he said.

I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge, handed him one, and leaned against the counter. A sharp memory flitted across my mind: the two of us licking chocolate chip cookie dough from a bowl.

He cleared his throat. "So?"

"A few weeks ago, I sensed your father was hiding something that involved another woman. There was something about it that made me suspect he was cheating on Tessa. But I didn't know that for sure. I didn't even tell my grandfather."

"You could have told me."

His earnestness confused me. "You hardly talk to me anymore."

He
raised his arms in frustration. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You called me a witch, okay? Many, many times. You think I was going to give you more reasons to call me that?"

"I'm sorry I called you a witch," he said, his expression softening. "It's really stupid. I was angry back then. But this is different. This concerns my family."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Remember the last time I sensed something that concerned your family? You'll recall that's why you stopped talking to me."

He shook his head. "You were reading me. You know I hate that."

"I didn't mean to read you," I said, with a note of p
leading in my voice. "I was only trying to—"

"I don't care about any of that right now," he said, waving his hands.

I took a calming breath. "All right. I had planned to talk to my grandfather about what I'd sensed, to ask him what I should do. Then the murder happened."

He waited. "And?"

"And, well, the truth came out. Turns out most of the town knew, anyway."

Zeke flinched. I knew he was
thinking about that news story. "But you're my friend. You could have said something."

I am?
I squeezed the cool water bottle. "I honestly didn't think I could."

He nodded, opened his water, and drank half of it in one swallow. "That's my fault. But now, right here, you can be honest. Did you see my father..." He
stopped abruptly.

I closed my eyes. He was going to ask the same thing Eric asked.

He continued. "You read that story, heard the rumors. "Did my father kill her?"

I opened my eyes and reluctantly looked into his. "I don't know."

He tightened his lips. "What
did
you see?"

I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have. But I did. "I think she was supposed to meet
him or Eric out there."

His face crumpled, and I thought for a second he was going to cry.

"But it doesn't mean your father killed her," I said quickly. I changed the subject. "Tamzen and I were at the mall today. We saw Eric on the way out. He must have followed us all the way to Chelsea. He wanted to know what I told the police about him."

"What happened?"

"He got mad, grabbed my arm."

Zeke's jaw clenched, and he let out a sharp breath. After several seconds of silence, he said, "I remember Adam asking Kate out after she and Eric broke up."

"They'd broken up?" Eric hadn't mentioned it.

He nodded. "Adam asked her out. She had this disgusted look on her face. Everybody laughed, and he went away mad. Eric found out about it and was pissed."

I furrowed my brow. "You think Adam killed her?"

"Just throwing out ideas. Anybody but my father."

His cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the screen.

"Is it Tamzen?" I said.

He looked up at me sharply and shoved the phone back in his pocket. "I'm late for practice," he said, draining the bottle and setting it on the counter.

I walked him t
o the door and longed to say something comforting. Instead, I watched him retreat.

Upstairs, I checked my e-mail and groaned when I saw the e-ticket my parents bought. For a moment, I pretended I was a private investigator with only a few days to solve a murder. Where would I sta
rt? Kate had embarrassed Adam. Would he kill her for that? Would Eric kill her for breaking up with him? What and where was the murder weapon? Had the police found evidence tying the murder to someone?

It was stupid idea. The police were equipped to investigate and solve the murder. But I was something they weren't.

I was a human lie detector. The drawback? I couldn't sense what people were lying about. Before I could talk myself out of it, I was in the car driving to the baseball diamond, thinking about my approach. Casual or in your face?

***

For an hour, I sat with my back against a shady tree and watched the team practice, cursing myself for not bringing a bottle of water to cool me down. I was amazed that people did anything in this humidity, let alone run around a field. By the time practice ended, my T-shirt stuck to me. I quickly wiped my face and walked causally to where the team had gathered. I ignored Zeke's questioning expression and strode up to Adam.

"Hey."

He looked at me, confused.

"I wanted to ask you something."

We held eye contact. I had the element of surprise on my side, but I knew he'd avert his eyes soon. I took a deep breath and let his emotions wash over me. Pain. Sadness. No. Deeper than sadness. Grief. Was Adam grieving over Kate?

"What do you want?" he said. "Freak."

"Hey!"

The voice belonged to Zeke. Adam looked at him, breaking our eye contact. "Defending your
other
girlfriend, Hicks? Nice."

I didn't want to see any disgust on Zeke's face, so
I studied Adam's. His sneer read more like fear than contempt. I was putting him and myself on the spot. I should have spoken to him privately. Too late. But what the heck?

"Can we talk in private?"

"No," he said, poking a finger in my chest. Hard.

It happened in seconds. Zeke reached around, grabbed Adam's finger, and twisted it. Before I could think about trying to separate them, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me from the fray. Adam jerked his hand out of Zeke's grip and pushed him.

"Come on fellas," one of the players said, stepping between them.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just trying to
—"

"Wait a second," Adam said, jerking away from the guy trying to hold him back. "You're trying to read my mind, see if I killed Kate?" He mumbled under his breath.

Instead of running to my car, I held my ground. "I can't read people's minds, but I know you're sad about something."

He raised his
eyebrows raised. "I might just be sad that she's dead. Ever consider that?"

"
It's deeper than sadness," I said. A slight weight pressed down on my chest. "It's grief."

Adam glanced around the group, then cut his eyes back to me.
"A year ago this month, my father died."

Abel Carver, who'd taught history at the high school, died of colon c
ancer. He'd lingered for months, wasting away at home. At the funeral, I'd expressed condolences to his wife and sensed a great deal of relief.

The silence was heavy, oppressive.

"Hicks or that loud-mouth friend of yours must have told you Kate embarrassed me when I asked her out." He looked at me. "You really think I'd kill her over that?"