I Spy Dead People (19 page)

Dad's right. Eli may be a jerk, but I want whatever other information he stores under that ridiculous hat. He lives in this town and knew Linzy. He has to know more. I push past Dad, back inside, and head to the freezer.

"I just don't like being woken," I say.

"My grumpy daughter." Dad smiles and walks out of the kitchen.

I grab a can of concentrated lemonade and take out a pitcher. The quicker I get Eli to open up, the sooner I can ignore him. And everyone always says the quickest way to a guy's heart is through his stomach. Not that I want anything to do with his heart. That belongs to Kinley.

I pour two glasses of barely cold lemonade, despite being frozen a second ago, and take them outside.

The second Eli sees what I'm holding, he turns off the lawn mower and walks over.

I was so confused and annoyed that he woke me that I didn't realize he was shirtless. Now that his pecs are approaching, my stomach is jittery, and I want to forget this whole thing and go back to my room. Nakedness isn't something I'm comfortable or all too familiar with. Growing up without a sister, a mom or even a best friend meant learning about the physical anatomy from sixth grade health class. Dad never walks around in his boxers, and the only reason I know he doesn't wear briefs is because I sometimes do laundry.

So seeing the sweat glisten across Eli's tanned, slightly defined chest, I can't help but look away, and back, and then away again.

"Is that for me?" he asks while reaching out for the glass.

I hand it to him a bit too abruptly and some of the liquid splashes onto his hand and the ground. "Yeah, sorry."

He doesn't seem to care. He brings the glass to his lips and downs it all in one long sip. Wow, impressive.

I hold out my glass, careful to keep it steady. "You must be thirsty. Want mine?"

He nods, switches cups with me, and only drinks half this time. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thanks. It's hot out here."

"Do you work for a lot of families?" I ask and sit in one of the folding chairs. The metal is hot, so I have to sit on the edge.

"A few. I'm saving up for a car though, so I need as many as possible." He doesn't sit down, but he glances at the chair several times. Also at the door.

He's nervous about being in the same position as last time. "I'm surprised you're here."

He rubs the back of his head. "Yeah, well I wasn't going to take the gig when your dad called but…" He takes another gulp of lemonade.

"You need the money?"

"Yeah." The word is muffled by the glass.

Then right on cue, Linzy appears. Has she been hiding and listening all along?

She circles him several times.

That he can't see her makes it kinda creepy. Imagine he gets a glimmer, just for a moment, and suddenly sees this dead girl in his face. That would make anyone freak out. I can see every move she makes, and I'm a bit freaked.

I look away.

He sets his glass down. "I gotta finish."

When he starts toward the mower, I whisper to Linzy, "What are you doing?"

She doesn't answer me though. She suddenly runs toward Eli.

There's no time to stop her. Not that I can. And it all happens so fast.

She passes through him, which makes him stop and shudder. She throws herself on top of the mower and disappears. The mower gives a little shake, like it's cold, and fear fills my empty belly.

This cannot be good.

The mower mysteriously roars to life, or not so mysterious when you see dead people.

Eli flinches and freezes, probably not sure what to do.

I, however, know exactly what's coming next, so I run forward.

The possessed machine jerks forward like a hiccup and heads straight for him.

I reach Eli first and shove him out of the way. My ankle twists and instead of moving with him, I go down on my knees. The ground is hard. Pain shoots down my right shin, and I look up in time to see the mower stop short. Right in front of my face.

Linzy's face appears. She wiggles out of the machine and stands beside it with her hands on her hips. She looks pissed. "Why the hell are you interfering?"

"Because I don't want a dead body on my lawn, thank you very much. And you won't even admit if he's the one who killed you. I'm starting to think you don't even know."

"Who are you yelling at?" Eli whispers.

Crap.

I giggle. "Oops. I usually only talk to inanimate objects in private. My bad."

He rises to his feet. "But you said you won't admit he's the one who killed you. Are you talking about me?"

I brush the dirt off my legs and attempt to stand up, but the pain is too sharp. I wince. "No, that's just silly. Why would you kill my lawn mower?"

Gosh, I must sound like an idiot.

He steps to me and grabs my forearms. With a tug, he brings me to my feet.

"Thanks," I say.

"Can you stand on it?" He's staring at my leg, but hasn't let go of my arms yet.

I lean on my right leg. My knee still hurts, but not as bad as before. "I'll just be the girl with the limp."

He doesn't say anything but let's me go. "She's here, isn't she?"

Panic starts to buzz in the back of my neck. I try to pull free, but he must not want to let go because his grip just slides down to my hands.

Linzy hovers by his left shoulder, staring at his profile.

I let out some weird hybrid laugh—part chuckle, part groan. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He leans closer. "You see Linzy's spirit. That's who you were talking to."

How does he know this? I mean, why is that his first thought? The panic spreads out. It swirls in my chest, bigger and bigger until I have to open my mouth to breathe.

"It's okay," he whispers. "My
abuela
can see them too. It's nothing to be afraid of."

How condescending. "I'm not." Shoot, I just admitted it, didn't I? "I mean…I…"

He squeezes my fingers. "You don't have to explain it. And I'll keep your secret. I know how sensitive the issue is."

The panic begins to ease up. I let out a shaky breath. "Thanks."

I want to keep denying, but the idea that someone knows and isn't calling for a straitjacket makes me want to blow up balloons, hang streamers, and buy a big cake. Of course, the idea that my secret-keeper is Eli makes me want to pop those balloons with an icepick, but I guess he's better than no one. And he's definitely better than Dad or Kinley not believing me.

"This explains the blanket and the mower," he says.

"She says you hated her enough to kill her." Well, that's my version of what she said. I watch his face intently in case he gives away his guilt.

He remains expressionless though and lets go of my hands. "Why? I rejected her."

Linzy glares at him.

"Um, I wouldn't say anything too negative."

I must have glanced to Linzy, because he jerks his head and stares at her as if he can see her. "Dude, I didn't kill you. You know that. I had no reason to."

Linzy snorts then disappears.

Eli looks to me. "She's gone, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"It's like with my
abuela
. There's this charge in the air. Then it went away. She says I'm sensitive to the spirits, but I can't communicate with them."

"You make it sound like there's a whole world of people with different abilities to deal with them."

"There is. You should talk to my
abuela
. She knows much more than me. Now, I need to get back to dealing with my possessed mower." He winks.

I smile, grateful he's playing along, but not sure if I'm ready to trust him or his
abuela
. "Yeah, I should go ice my knee."

As I wobble back to the house, movement catches my eye across the yard.

Kinley's standing in her kitchen window, watching us. And she looks mad.

 

I spend the afternoon with an ice pack, a scowling ghost, and my stomach in knots over Kinley. About twenty minutes after I came inside, I got up the nerve to text her with a simple good morning. Maybe it was stupid of me not to mention Eli, but I could tell she was pissed, and I didn't want to make it worse. I don't want to have to lie to her, but I'm not ready to admit the whole ghost thing.

She didn't text me back.

I thought friendship, or at least a true one, was easier than this. Is this some sign that she and I shouldn't be friends? But it's just too perfect. She's my age, lives next door, is kinda nerdy, and loves true crime fiction. I mean, how more similar could we be? Isn't that enough to build off of?

Dad's footsteps climb the stairs.

I skipped lunch, so he's been in and out of my room every thirty minutes to make sure I'm okay and haven't come down with the Eboli virus or something.

He knocks on my door then enters without waiting for me to invite him in. We really need to work on that. "Shayla's here."

I bolt upright. Seriously? I fling my legs off my bed and tentatively stand. The pain in my knee is gone, but I'm afraid to move too fast and reinjure it. "Are you gonna let her up?"

Please don't tell me I'm still grounded.

"She asked if you could go to her house. I said it's fine as long as you behave."

Ohmigod. I'm not sure if I'm more excited because I get to leave my prison, or because Shayla actually wants to help. I limp over and wrap my arms around Dad. "Totally, Dad. Thank you."

I meet Shayla in the foyer. She's in the hall but peeking into Dad's office. Dad went to the bathroom, so I stand beside her and stare too.

"So he writes about dead people?" she asks.

"Yep. How they died, their lives, what led up to their deaths."

"Will he write about Linzy?"

I stare at her profile. "I don't know."

I want to slap myself. With all the craziness, I never thought about how another murder just fell into his lap. If he writes two books, will that keep us in town longer?

Shayla and I head out.

The block is quiet. Everyone is either gone or inside. When we reach her front yard, she says, "My parents aren't home. I didn't want to explain to them why I was asking you over after the other day."

I nod and feel a bit sick. I really hate that her folks will see me on our street and instantly be reminded of how I almost ruined their daughter's funeral. I suck.

Her house is cool and dark. All of the shades are drawn. It's as if her folks don't want to see the outside.

"Where are they?" I ask.

We climb her stairs.

"At the cemetery. Mom can't stay away."

It's that moment Linzy appears. I can't tell if she heard what her sister said, but she has a pensive look on her face.

We go into Linzy's room. In here, the shades are up. Sunlight spills into the corners, lighting the room and making it almost sparkle.

Shayla grabs the laptop and sits on Linzy's bed. "We can't get caught, so we have to be quick."

I nod. "Then while you look through her emails and stuff, do you mind if I look elsewhere?"

She glances around, looking at each piece of furniture, possibly wondering where Linzy hid her secrets. "Okay, but don't mess anything up."

"I've been snooping in my dad's office for years. I know how to be discrete."

My first destination is the dresser. I rummage through the stacks of shirts, shorts, skirts, undies… Gosh, this girl had a ton of clothes. And nice ones. So nice, I want to cry when I think of my pitiful wardrobe.

I turn up nothing interesting and head to the vanity. Makeup, hair products, the usual. "Find anything?" I ask Shayla.

"I'm still trying to figure out her password."

Linzy's lying beside her sister.

"Yeah, it would be great if we knew that password." I give Linzy a poignant look.

She rolls her eyes and says, "Fine. Superstar-oh-one."

I find a pair of binoculars, a camera, and a cell phone in the bottom right drawer. I repeat the password to Shayla.

She types it in and looks at me in surprise. "How'd you know?"

I shrug. "A guess. I mean, look at this room. She must've thought highly of herself."

Shayla scoffs and clicks away at the keyboard. "I probably won't find anything good. The police just returned this the morning of the funeral. They said they didn't find anything that links to how she died."

My Spidey sense tingles. "Aren't they supposed to keep it until the case is solved?" That's what they do on
CSI
.

"Probably. My parents have been making a lot of calls, and my grandpa used to work for the state attorney."

So that's how they've been getting things done at warp speed.

"I don't see why they're so desperate. It's not going to bring back their precious daughter."

Ouch. These sisters really hate one another.

I shut the drawer and head to the closet. I flip the switch for the overhead light, but as soon as the bulb flickers on, it pops and burns out. Well, I'll just have to snoop in the dark. I've done that before. Besides, there's enough light trickling in from the bedroom to make out most of her clothes.

I make my way through her countless dresses, including the gorgeous red gown she wore to the Daytime Emmy Awards, and begin to wonder if Linzy had any secrets. I get to her handbag collection and squeal.

"What'd you find?" Shayla asks.

I peek out of the closet and hold up a gold and charcoal gray, Hello Kitty tote bag. "It's adorable."

Shayla rolls her eyes. Now I see the resemblance between the sisters.

Suddenly Linzy's behind me. "Put it back. You can't have that."

I do as I'm told. "I wasn't going to keep it. Just admiring it. Geez. Paranoid much? Besides, it's not like you can use it anymore."

I may be a snoop and a liar when necessary, but I am not a thief, and her implication makes me want to kick her.

Linzy holds up her hands as if surrendering. "Okay, okay, sorry. God."

"You know, you could help more," I whisper. "Tell me who killed you."

I hold my breath and wait for her response. I'll admit, part of me hopes she doesn't tell me. The chase is kinda fun. Once I know the truth, I'll have to tell the chief, and then it'll be over.