I Spy Dead People (15 page)

"Are you okay?" I call out and rush to her side. I reach for my phone. "Should I call 911?"

She gives another cough and shakes her head. "No, I'm fine. I burned my dinner. A ten dollar steak turned into ash."

"That sucks." What do you say to someone grieving over dead cow?

She holds up her hand. Her left index finger is bandaged in a thick wad of gauze. "I almost sliced my finger off last night. Clearly I'm a hazard in the kitchen. I need to hire a chef."

"You could order out every night," I say with a chuckle.

She frowns. "Oh, God, no. I'd be fat."

I lift an eyebrow. "Yeah, heaven forbid you don't fit into a size two."

"Zero, dear."

I turn away and roll my eyes. "Whatever. Hope your house doesn't burn down."

"Thank you. Tell your dad I said hi."

I don't respond and head home. The reporters are gone, so I run the rest of the way and reach my backyard out of breath. I need a shower before bed, but Dad will wonder why I'm taking one after I laid down. I grab my nightshirt, slip it on, and unlock the back door. The chain isn't on, which means Dad's still in his office.

I step inside and lock up.

The overhead light goes on. "What are you doing?" he asks.

I freeze.

Crap.

 

The next morning, I shower, dress, and head downstairs still groggy. After dad caught me sneaking in, I told him I came down for a snack and heard a weird noise outside. He went out with a flashlight, and I had enough time to run upstairs and slip out of my outside clothes before he came up to lecture me about being out after dark, even if only in the backyard. If he only knew. By the time he finished, I was too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep. Not that it was peaceful. I can't shake the car dream.

When I hit the bottom step, I hear Dad talking in the kitchen. I tip-toe forward, press myself against the wall, and impersonate paint. Luckily the morning sun shines in from the back of the house, leaving the hall in shadows.

Dad's seated at the table, across from Bridget. Crap. What is she doing here? Did he call her about the house's mechanical issues, a.k.a. Linzy? Or did she stop by to discuss her culinary failures? She's going to mention seeing me, and my life is over. If she hasn't said anything yet, maybe I can stop her.

"How did the autopsy get done so quickly? It's been two days," Dad says.

Oh my God, they're talking about Linzy's death.

Bridget sips from one of our sunflower mugs. I hate those things. They're so ugly, but it's the only matching set we own, so Dad breaks them out for company.

"From what I hear, the Quinns burned through a lot of favors to make it happen. It's just as well though. Who wants to live in that kind of turmoil?"

Dad nods. "I doubt it gets easier once you know how your daughter died, especially if it's murder."

I cover my mouth with my hand, holding back my gasp. So Linzy was murdered. This is what I wanted, right? A murder case of my own. Something Dad can't tell me to stay out of. Well, he can tell me, but with Linzy's ghost hanging out in my room, it's unlikely I'll listen. Then why am I not more excited? "How was she killed?" Dad asks.

I lean toward them, not wanting to miss a syllable.

"They say she was suffocated."

This time my gasp is quicker than my cover-up, and Dad turns his head. He stands. "Excuse me."

I hurry to the front door and grab the doorknob when he says, "Piper, were you just listening?"

I should lie like I have countless times this week, but for some reason I can't. Tears gather in my eyes, and a burning sensation tickles my nose.

He puts his arms around me from behind and rests his chin on the top of my head. "I wish you hadn't heard that. I'm sorry. Do you want to move? I can find another book to write. It doesn't have to be the McDougal one."

"What?" I turn, forcing him to let go of me. "No. I like it here. I have Kinley and…" Troy and even Linzy. I can't leave now.

I shake my head. "No, Dad, please. You promised a full school year."

He stares at me then finally relents. "Okay, sweetie. Whatever you want."

I wish it was that easy. Whatever I want is to never leave. And I know he doesn't want to give up on the McDougal book any more than I want to leave. "I'm going to Kinley's, okay?"

He hesitates then nods. "Don't go anywhere else."

Since he's letting me leave the house, I assume Bridget didn't mention last night.

I kiss his cheek, but before I get a chance to exit, Bridget walks over.

"I don't mean to interrupt a father-daughter moment, but I need to get to a showing." She's wearing a white blouse with a ruffle collar, a black fitted skirt, and, of course, red high heels. She certainly knows how to dress.

"Thank you for stopping by," Dad says.

She leans forward and gives Dad a peck on the cheek. Before I get to gauge his reaction, she does the same to me.

I breathe in a whiff of her floral perfume, and my heart stops for a second. Is it the same scent from last night, the one on Dad? Ohmigod! Are they seeing one another? I grip the door and yank it open. "I gotta go." I'm gonna be sick.

I race to the sidewalk then over to Kinley's house. This can't be happening. Not Dad and her. Eww.

Mrs. Abbott answers the door. "Hello, Piper. How are you feeling?"

She acts like I've been in the hospital with pneumonia rather than uncovering watery graves. "I'm fine, thanks."

She smiles. "That's good. Kinley's in her room. Go on up."

I take the stairs two at a time. Her door is wide open, and for the first time I get to see her room.

She's sitting at a white desk. All of her furniture is white with gold trim. Her walls are bright lemon yellow, and the space is full of stuffed animals. There has to be at least fifty.

"Hi. Wow, you love bears, huh?" There are two giant ones seated on the beige rug—one between the dresser and closet and one by the windows. Minus the animals and that her bed is a twin while mine's a full, we have our furniture in the same locations. Freaky.

"Hi." She doesn't answer my question, which is cool since it was rhetorical, but she sounds glum.

I sit on the edge of her bed. Maybe she heard the news too. "What's wrong?"

She spins around in her chair and frowns. "Are you serious? You totally blew me off."

"When?" I ransack through my day, starting with being lectured for going into the yard when I was actually at the park and going backwards, but I'm only replaying my run-in with Cujo when Kinley scoffs.

"I texted you yesterday afternoon, and you never got back to me."

I shut my eyes. That's right. "I'm sorry. I got so busy, and I forgot."

She narrows her gaze. "Busy with Eli? That is who I saw going into your house, right?"

It feels as if she punched me in the stomach. Is she actually suggesting I'm sneaking around with him? That's grosser than Dad with Bridget.

"Yes, but what's the big deal? You act as if I didn't tell you on purpose."

She shrugs. "Maybe since Troy didn't want to kiss you, you thought…"

Anger burrows under my skin. "Wait. Don't you dare say that I'm trying to get Eli, who, by the way, is disgusting. You know, Troy and I talked about the non-kiss, and it's fine."

"How would I know that since we didn't even speak yesterday?"

Okay, so maybe I forgot to tell her, but why is she freaking out on me? Is she really this needy? The word strikes a chord and leaves me feeling guilty. Is this how I was with Andrea and Aaron?

I stand up. "Look, I can't stay. I just wanted to let you know that they did the autopsy and Linzy was suffocated to death. Bye."

I run downstairs, out the door, and up to my room without anyone getting in my way and stopping me. As I lie on my bed, I realize I haven't seen my neighborhood ghost since she tried to suffocate Eli yesterday. Is it a coincidence?

I whisper, "Linzy, where are you?"

 

* * *

 

After lunch, I take my list of suspects and cross off Eli's name. Something tells me he didn't care enough to kill her. Yes, he's a jerk for pushing her, but standing too close to someone doesn't equal murder. I have no idea who Margo is, and I'll give Shayla a few more days to grieve before I talk to her. If I talk to her. It's not exactly something I relish doing. Which leaves April. (I crossed off Mrs. Quinn as soon as I added it.) Troy said April was Linzy's best friend, so whatever happened between them had to be serious…and juicy. But how will I find her? My options are Eli, Kinley, and Troy.

I'm still annoyed at Kinley, and I don't want to be yelled at again, so she's out. And Eli isn't someone I want to keep in contact with, for both Kinley's sake and mine. Hopefully she'll eventually come around, and I don't need another reason for her to be mad at me. Which leaves Troy.

I grab my phone and text him.

hey, whats Aprils last name?

I reread my pages of notes while waiting for his response. Luckily it's only a few minutes before my cell beeps.

Winston. Y?

Doesn't he remember our conversation the other day?

how do i get in touch w her?

This response takes longer. Finally he writes:

don't know # she works at family store Winstons

How original. I grab my laptop, do some sleuthing, and find their website. It's in the strip mall on North Main Street. They sell craft items. Material, glue, all kinds of specialty paper, foam, googly eyes… The line under their name says:
If you can create it, we sell it
.

I dial the listed number and expect an automated voice with options, but a live person answers.

"Winston's, how can I help you?" It's a high-pitched female voice. Maybe it's April, and we can get this conversation over with right now.

"Can I talk to April, please?" If she isn't working now, maybe this person will let me know when. Worse case, I'll find a way to stalk the place until she shows up.

"April just walked in. She's in back getting ready. Can I take a message?"

"No thanks." I hang up and smile. She's there now.

I run downstairs and find Dad scooping coffee beans into his overpriced grinder. "Hey, can we run to the store?"

He glances back at me. "What do you need?"

"A notebook." I came down prepared with a half-lie. The half part being I don't
need
it, but I'll definitely use it.

"Don't you have a thousand of those?" And people wonder where I get my hyperbolic self from.

"Yes, but this is a different kind. It's for ideas."

He smiles and faces me. "Are you planning on becoming an author too?"

"No."

"Then why another one?"

"Come on, Dad. What's with the third degree?" He acts as if I'm asking for a pint of his blood.

He holds his hands up. "Okay, let me get my shoes. We'll drive to Staples. It's a big, new store."

"No, I want to go to Winston's. It's here in town, in the strip mall. Much closer."

He frowns while pulling on his sneakers. "Why would you want to buy a notebook there? I'm sure Staples has a bigger selection."

Darn. I wasn't ready for all of this. "It's a special kind. Kinley has the same one, and she got it at Winston's."

"Fine. I won't argue." He grabs his keys and wallet. "Let's go."

I practically skip to the car. Hopefully April can give me answers about her dead friend.

 

When we step into Winston's, neon-colored Sticky Notes catches Dad's eye. Thank you, Universe. I stalk each aisle, looking for a fourteen-year-old. If she's in the storage area I'll have to ask for her, but I hope to draw as little attention as possible. Up and down, past the highlighters and gel pens. Then I see a dark blonde in a red smock. Her hair is high in a ponytail. She wears a black tee, denim shorts, and scuffed, white sneakers. Her arms and legs are so tan, she almost looks black. She's counting sticks of glue and checking something off on a clipboard.

I walk straight up to her. "Hi."

At first she looks annoyed, like maybe I messed up her counting. Then she turns a programmed smile my way. "Can I help you?"

"You're April, right?"

She looks me up and down before giving one nod. "Do I know you?"

"No, I'm Piper. I just moved to town, but I met Linzy before she died."

April stiffens at the mention of Linzy's name. "Okay."

"Yeah, well, she said you were one of the people who hated her, and when she turned up dead, I thought of you." I display a wide grin, hoping to take the sting out of my words. Yes, I'm aware I just stuck my foot in my mouth, but what choice do I have? Dad will find me in about three-point-five minutes, so time is limited. Plus, April's obviously not going to volunteer her secrets to a stranger. My strategy is to piss her off enough so she'll blurt out something incriminating.

She crinkles her brow. "Are you insane? I didn't hate Linzy. She was my best friend."

I stare into her clear, albeit angry, brown eyes. "You don't look broken up over her."

Her face turns deadpan. "Who are you to…"

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not being polite or delicate about the situation. Honestly, if you knew the truth you'd think I was crazier than you do right now. I'm just trying to figure out what happened to Linzy."

"Why?"

"I'm the one who found her body. So let's just say she's been haunting me ever since."

April glances over her shoulder then says, "What do you want?"

"To know why you turned on your best friend."

"I didn't. She…" She glares. "It's none of your business."

Yeah, this is going great.

"Maybe not, but if she really was your BFF then you'd want the person who killed her punished, right?"

Her eyes widen. "She was killed?"

Shoot. That might not be public knowledge yet.

I try to cover up my loose tongue. "I mean, I assume that's how she ended up in the river, but I hope it's something else. Like she slipped and hit her head on a rock." I need to learn how to keep my rambling to a minimum.