Death of a Hot Chick (35 page)

“
I’ll get you, I’ll get you,” Brandon
yelled.. “You’re dead. You’re buried.
”

When someone answered, I whispered,
“Emergency at Smith Harbor Marina. Brandon Bates has gone crazy.
Listen.” I turned the phone toward him.

He had gone crazy! He screamed, “Nicole
you’re dead. I killed you. Stay dead.”

She floated closer to him.
“Come and get me.
” She almost sang
the words as she dipped and swirled around him.

He saw her! He must be seeing her because he
lashed out wherever she was. Sometimes his hand went through her.
She zoomed away, then back, with her hands holding her blouse away
from her neck.

“
Kill me again, darling.
That’s a good boy. Reach for me. Follow me.”

Brandon darted after Nicole’s ghost as she
flitted around him, then through him, then out to the water and
back.

I whispered to my cell phone. “Send someone
quick. Send the police.”

“
Okay, we’re even. You’ve
got the killer.”

Brandon lay flat on his face, spread-eagled
on the dock.

“
Nicole?” I whispered. “What did you
do?”

“
Hit him with a bucket. The
ring is in his pocket. Give it to me.”

I shook my head while I held the cell phone
to my ear.

“
You want another
storm?”

“
It’s proof,” I whispered as I
listened to the 911 operator tell me to wait for the police. As if
I’d do anything else. Mentally I thanked Nicole for saving my life.
Mentally, I tried to explain. She must have listened because the
storm didn’t return.

“
Get it. Show it to
me.”
She just wouldn’t admit she’d heard
me.

I spoke to the cop who came on the phone.
Told my story. When I looked up, I saw Nicole taking form. She
walked over to Brandon. She tried to put her hand into his pocket,
but it sort of slid right through.

“
He’s got the ring. It’s
mine. Give it to me.”

He wasn’t dead. He started moving. “I’m not
going anywhere near him.” In fact, I backed up quickly and ran. If
he came to, he’d go after me.

“
Don’t worry. I’m loving
this.”

I turned and watched. Nicole had disappeared
again, but she was definitely there. The bucket had a life of its
own. It whirled and, as Brandon tried to push himself up with one
hand, hit him again.

“
Yes, you do that,”
Nicole said.

Which is when I realized I didn’t need to
tell her anything. She’d read my thoughts. I left the dock and went
to watch for the cops. Brandon wasn’t going anywhere with Nicole on
guard. A man ran toward me holding a gun. I dropped, but he passed
me. I watched as he headed toward the end of the dock. He saw the
bucket sail through the night sky and hit Brandon once again.

Epilogue

The 911 operator hadn’t heard Brandon well
enough to understand any actual words. However, the undercover
F.B.I. agent lurking to discover Pop retrieving his loot had. He
came running when he heard a male voice yell, “Nicole you’re dead.
I killed you. Stay dead.” He skimmed over the part about a flying
bucket, but he testified with me. Which is fortunate, because no
one would have believed my story. Brandon survived for the trial,
but he was a little the worse for the battering.

A month later I got an e-mail from Finley
after all the newspapers and TV channels carried the news that
Brandon had eventually confessed to murder. At least, I’m sure it
was from Finley, although the return address was just a bunch of
unrelated numbers. “I told you so,” was all it said. But I replied,
and maybe it went through. I haven’t heard back yet.

Pop is still searching for his nephew,
because he never did find that loot.

Slim’s sister stopped by to give me the
jacket and shoes her brother-in-law found in his sunken boat. Pop
was as good as his word.

Teddy cemented her position on the newspaper
by bringing in a killer story.

Kaye went back to preparing for the fall
semester. She clipped all the newspaper items to send to her
husband in Namibia.

Granny hasn’t lost her driver’s
license—yet.

My battling parents are still battling.

Gregory can’t forget his flirting ways.
Totally unprofessional, I tell him, now that he’s my part-time
boss. I’ve done a couple of trips for him and have a few feelers
out in other directions. (Hey, a girl has to look out for
herself.)

I put a lot of money in my new bank
account and paid Wes for the work he did on
Snapdragon
. I even paid the lawyer. Instead of
looking for an apartment, I’m babysitting someone’s nifty 36-foot
Cape Dory for a couple of months. I’m looking at cars instead of
boats, for the time being.

I haven’t heard any more from Nicole, so she
must be happy wherever she is, even though the ring wasn’t buried
with her. It was front and center at the trial.