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Authors: Vanessa Barneveld

BOOK: This is Your Afterlife
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I backtrack and give his arm a squeeze. “We're right here with you. We'll stick together. All of us.”

“Are you cool, Jimmy?” Dan looks in the general direction of where his brother's standing.

Jimmy straightens, perhaps forgetting for a minute that no one else can see him looking so down. “Wasn't I the cool one out of you and me?”

I laugh. “Dan's got more street cred than you.”

“Hey, I'm feeling a little left out here with you guys bantering,” Dan says over Jimmy's snort.

Jimmy runs around us, and treads backwards as we continue walking. “I'm proud of my not-so-little brother. People always going on about me being a football hero.” Jimmy scoffs. “I was just playing a game. But Dan…Dan is the real hero in the family.

“Years ago, we were at summer camp in Arizona and some ass-hat threw a blind kid's cane into the middle of the lake. Everyone else laughed, even me. Dan ran out from nowhere, swam like Aquaman, got the cane, and punched that jerk backwards into the water.

“He did what no one else had the balls to do.” Jimmy slaps Dan in the back. “Me? I'm a coward. I just stood there and didn't even try to stop that guy from picking on the kid. That's the difference between Dan and me. He pretends nothing matters to him, but that's not true.
Everything
matters.”

I glance furtively at Dan. He seems to sense my eyes on him and holds my gaze. His trademark intensity hits me like a heat wave.

“What's he saying now?” Dan asks.

I tear my eyes from him and force myself to concentrate on the uneven trail. Voices float toward us from the waterhole ahead. The unmistakable flicker of a bonfire shines through the trees. “He just finished telling me what a great guy you are, standing up to bullies, that kind of thing.”

Dan looks embarrassed. “Don't believe a word my brother says.”

“No, what you did for that blind kid was amazing. I didn't know about that.” It must have occurred in the post-closet era, when Dan avoided me as if I had the bubonic plague.

“Blind kid?” His cheek twitches. Hesitantly, he addresses the empty air beside me. “Jimmy, I thought I told you to keep that to yourself.”

Jimmy laughs, stepping into the spot Dan's looking at. “Dude, the whole camp saw what happened. Stop being so goddamn modest.”

Dan gives me an uncertain look, and I tell him Jimmy's response.

Without a word, Dan takes my hand. Uncomprehendingly, I stare at our linked fingers. I feel myself melting into the heat radiating from him. His touch feels comfortable, easy. Still…unexpected as all get-out.

Squeezing my hand, he whispers, “I can't believe my brother can hear me and talk to me as if he were still alive. It's almost like he's still here.”

“He
is
still here.”

“I know.” He spears me with a long, searching look. “Part of me wants to question that. And the rest of me doesn't care.”

Heavy, running footsteps tears my attention from him. Barreling toward us are some guys from school.

“Dan, you made it!” one shouts.

He's a football player, I know that much. And he's tanked. Dan nearly buckles under his bear hug. He has no choice but to let go of my hand. The other guy leaps on Tanked Guy's back.

Jimmy tries to encircle all of them with his ghostly, muscular arms. He yells, “Todd! Sam!”

Dan shudders, and I suspect not just because he's trying to remain standing under four hundred pounds of pressure. I'm missing the warmth of his hand in mine.

“God, I'm so pissed about what happened to Jimmy, man. Your brother was the best. The
best.

“Thanks, Todd.” Dan extricates himself from the guys. “You know Keira?”

“Sam,” says the dark-haired, least drunk of the two. “I've seen you around.”

“Watch out for him,” Jimmy says. “He's a total sleaze.”

I give Sam a tight smile. “Hi.”

He puts his arm around my shoulders, and I get a whiff of beer mixed with stale sweat. Stumbling on a tree root, he says, “Come this way.”

But Jimmy tugs me backward and I find myself squashed under Dan's arm instead.

When we get to the waterhole, the scene looks so wild you wouldn't think someone had died in this very spot a week ago.

Jimmy pauses, gaping. “Look at all these kids.”

“It's a party,” I say, not sure I approve. It seems to be just an excuse to get together and drink, smoke joints, not celebrate his short life.

“Whoo!”

Jimmy plunges into the crowd. He chest-slams more teammates. None of them react. He dashes from group to group while Dan and I cling to the outer edges. After a while, Jimmy's wolfish grin fades. He eyes me. With much less enthusiasm, he wanders back to us, hands in his back pockets.

“Everyone's here,” he says. “Except Aimee.”

I squint into the darkness. For the first time I notice clusters of people who aren't as drunk or out of it as the jocks. A lot of them are mournful, staring at the bonfire and not talking. Among them, Mara, her auburn hair drawn over one shoulder. Unlike most kids, she dresses like an anchorwoman. Knee-length pencil skirt. Long-sleeved silky top. At least she's wearing Keds on her feet.

I nudge Dan and Jimmy. “Let's go talk to Mara.”

When we get close, she stands up and walks away. Huh. Maybe she's still spooked after the séance.

“Mara,” I say, snagging her elbow. I feel like a munchkin beside her. She stares down at me from a great height.

“Keira. Dan. How are you?” she asks coolly.

“Fine,” Dan says. I nod in agreement.

A loud sob echoes behind us. Surrounded by a mob of people, Aimee wails into her hands. I make out cries of “Why me? Why did you have to die on me, Jimmy?” ring out. Jimmy watches over her, shaking his head slowly.

Mara mutters under her breath. “‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.'”

I wrinkle my nose. “What do you mean?”

She jerks her chin in the direction of Aimee. “She's a little over the top in playing the grieving widow, wouldn't you say?”

“She just lost her boyfriend,” I reply, even though I know that's not the whole story. As far as I can tell, Aimee's still keeping up the charade she forced Jimmy into, leading everyone to believe they were still a couple.

Dan faces Mara. In a low, dark tone, he says, “Are you saying Aimee was involved in Jimmy's death?”

His brother's blond head snaps our way. He slips away from Aimee and scoffs. “Don't be dumb. She might be flaky sometimes, but she wouldn't hurt a fly.”

I'm not convinced of that. Aimee is not exactly known as a paragon of virtue. She can bully girls with the cattiest of cheerleaders. She's shallower than a puddle in a pothole. Those “qualities” aren't always a sign a person's capable of murder. But it is possible.

The question is, is Aimee powerful enough to do that? Was Jimmy weak enough to allow it?

On the other hand, her loud, unabashed mourning is getting on my nerves. Even Jimmy's family, with whom he shared a much better relationship, by the sound of things, is restrained in grief.

“I'm just saying there was more to her and Jimmy as a couple,” Mara says. “They had problems.”

“How do you know?” I ask her in a low voice.

She shrugs. “What can I say? I'm perceptive. I notice things. It wasn't that hard, really. My bedroom is directly opposite Jimmy's. Sometimes I heard conversations between them. Arguments.”

“You spied on them?” Dan asks, looking nauseated. Jimmy's face mirrors his expression perfectly.

Mara's defensive. “Their fights were loud. I'm surprised you didn't eavesdrop, Dan. Or did you?”

“I've always got my music on when I paint.”

Jimmy nods at me. “That's one thing I'm not gonna miss—Dan's morbid Morrissey obsession.”

“I like Morrissey, too,” I say. Dan throws me a look of solidarity. Mara seems confused, and I realize I'd slipped up by replying to Jimmy out loud.

“I want to know what she overheard,” Jimmy says with a tinge of anger.

I lead everyone further way from Aimee, at the same time being careful not to tread closer to where Jimmy's body was snagged in the water. “Mara, what did you overhear?”

She purses her full lips for a second, weighing up what she's going to say. “There were so many fights. It's a wonder they were together for eight months.”

Jimmy chuckles. “Wow, she kept track of how long Aimee and me were dating? Even I didn't know that!”

I wonder just how much Mara heard by “accident” and how much she eagerly listened out for. Is she nosy? Easily distracted? Or is there something more to her interest in a relationship on the rocks?

“It was over between them,” Mara says conspiratorially. She stares at Aimee with palpable hate. Had there always been a rivalry between them? “She treated him like dirt if he wouldn't give in to her. Constantly badgering him.”

“Mara, did you hear them argu—” I begin, but I'm interrupted by the sharp squawk of feedback from a megaphone.

A familiar voice carries over the laughter and chatter around us. “This is a crime scene, people. Vacate the area immediately. I repeat, this is a crime scene. Vacate the area immediately or you will be arrested.”

Instantly, “mourners” scamper across logs and rocks, out of bushes and out of the water. A couple of kids splashing in the waterfall gape like stricken deer under the powerful flashlights shone by Charlie and his squad.

“Todd, is that Budweiser I see in your hand?” Charlie bellows.

Standing on waterhole's rocky edge, Todd drops the can as if it's full of rat poison. He splits as fast as his thick linebacker legs will carry him. Sam's already well down the wooded path leading to the parking lot.

Only Dan, Mara, Jimmy and I stand rooted to the spot while everyone around us runs so fast you'd think a planet-sized asteroid is about to hit.

Charlie shakes his head and kicks empty cans and pretzel bags out of his way. Bristling, he picks up a shred of black-and-yellow police tape. “Didn't you guys see this?”

We shake our heads. The clearing was already full of bodies celebrating the life of their fallen hero when we arrived.

“We haven't finished processing the area,” Charlie says, staring at me like it was my fault that he hadn't posted officers to guard the clearing. I start following him. “Keira, stop, turn around, and go home to your mother.”

“She's at work. Again.”

“Keira, what are you doing? He said we have to go,” Mara calls out. Her gaze is locked on me. I feel like a butterfly pinned to a frame in a science lab. Trapped and under scrutiny. I hope Charlie won't mention anything about me writing an article. I'm sure she'd be okay with it, but I bet she wanted to get the scoop first.

Waving her off, I say, “Just a minute. I need to ask Charlie something…about my mom.”

Charlie's eyes widen to grapefruit-like proportions, but continues walking. I scurry after him, closer to the waterfall. He shines his torch on the water and yells, “That's right, you kids. If you're not out of here in two minutes, you'll be smiling for mug shots down at the station.”

“Yes, sir!” the couple says unison. They scramble from the water wearing only underwear. Stopping briefly to scoop up their clothes on the rocks, they make it out of the clearing in record-breaking time.

Charlie glares at the trash left behind.

“Were you for real about not being done with the crime scene?” I ask.

He sucks in his cheeks. “I can't go into specifics with you on the case.”

“You don't have to give me
everything
. Just a few morsels. Enough to write a story.”

“Sorry, Keira. Chief Higgins says he doesn't want the press to get hold of details that might hurt the case.” He can't get away fast enough.

I catch up to him. “Isn't that what the police say when they want to narrow down suspects based on how much they know?”

“You're pretty smart. Just like your mom,” he says.

“She likes you.” My throat kind of closes up, and my words come out strangled.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” He rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks. Now go home, Keira.”

“Mom would have told you that I'm pretty trustworthy, right?” I persist. “That I have good judgment? I wouldn't print anything that would put Jimmy's case in jeopardy. I care about his family too much.”

Charlie glances at Dan in the distance. “Or about one member in particular.”

I feel my face burn. “That's none of your business.”

He gives a rueful laugh, then motions for me to follow him along the water's edge. “Our boys did a thorough job. Photographed the crap out of the place, combed the area from here to the parking lot, took samples. We've hit another setback. No viable footprints on this rocky ground.

“But there is some ‘good' news. We found a suspicious object up at the clifftop. A rock with a small amount of blood on it. They're running tests on it to see whose blood it might be.”

“Jimmy's blood.” A dull throb ricochets in my skull and echoes into the pit of my stomach. Even without seeing the “suspicious object,” my physical reaction leaves me in no doubt.

“We'll see what the lab thinks, but I'm with you on that. The blood seemed relatively fresh.”

A memory of the blood dripping from Jimmy's head makes me shiver. “What about the car? Did you check out Big River Way?”

“Yeah. We found exactly where you said it'd be. His phone was in there, too. We're running tests on it,” he says.

“That's great news,” I say a little too quickly. On one hand, I'm amazed my vision of the car's location proved correct. But on the other hand, I don't like the way Charlie's staring at me. Like I'm a suspect. Maybe I'm paranoid. “What's next?”

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