Price swiveled from the desk, then hurried to the window. A breeze blew in when he lifted it, slamming the bedroom door shut.
“Hey,” he greeted, a wisp of a smile touching his lips. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
She shrugged and slipped inside, taking in his cotton pajama shirt and flannel pants. “I don’t have much else to do.” She arched an eyebrow. “No church?”
Price coughed loudly and whispered, “I’m sick.”
“Great.” Kylee walked to the bed and lay back on it, kicking her feet. She glanced at the computer screen, little images frozen in mid-action. “Playing a game?”
“I’m bored.” Price picked his phone up and flipped it between his fingers. “I beat the levels on this game two years ago.”
“Why do you still play it, then?”
He shrugged. “It’s a good distraction.”
From what? But she didn’t have to ask.
He was in this with her. Dealing with it the best he could.
“What’s your plan?” Price asked. “What are we doing while everyone’s at church?”
“I was thinking it would be helpful if we found the murder weapon,” she said. “But even more, we need to find my body.”
He closed his eyes and braced one hand against the desk. For a moment she wondered if he really was sick, then she realized it was the thought of finding her body that bothered him.
“You don’t have to help me,” she reminded him.
“No.” He met her gaze. “You’re not doing this by yourself. You shouldn’t have to.”
The whole house trembled as the garage door lifted, and then the BMW slid out and down the drive. The house rumbled again as the heavy metal door dropped down.
“Dad left for church.” Price stared out the window and then turned around, a mischievous look on his face. “We’re alone.” Price’s eyes looked her over. He reached a hand out, gesturing for her to come to him.
“No time to waste.” Kylee jumped off the bed, trying to ignore the expression of desire on his face. What was the point? Ghosts couldn’t make out. At least, they shouldn’t be able to. She headed for the door, expecting Price to follow her.
“What’s the rush?” he called from the bedroom. “Your parents’ car is still on the grass.”
“Still?” She joined him at the window and scowled at the evidence. The ugly blue vehicle hadn’t budged.
“Maybe they’re not going to church today?” Price suggested.
That would be her luck. “I guess we’ll see.” Even as she spoke, the sound of the broken muffler vibrated through the air. She faced Price with a smug smile. “There they go.” She pushed past him and headed down the hall.
“Do you feel any different?” he asked as they descended the stairs.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “It kind of makes sense. It’s like I knew something was off, something wasn’t right. But I didn’t want to admit it, I guess.”
“Like what?” He opened the front door and stepped into the muggy air. The day was overcast and cloudy, but the heat seeped from the ground like steam from the bath.
“Well, like food. I haven’t been hungry in a long time.”
Price scrunched up his nose. “How sad.”
“I know, right?” Kylee had to laugh. “I’m beginning to think nothing is real.” Tears burned her eyes. She wanted to wipe at them, but they were fake, too.
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Price grabbed her hand, pressed it to his face. “I’m real. What I feel for you is real.”
“But it can’t be.” Kylee tried to tug her hand free, but Price held tight. “Maybe you’re imagining these feelings, too.”
“Oh, shut up.” Using his grip on her hand, he yanked her to him and kissed her. She resisted, but Price’s lips forced hers open. The feel of his tongue on hers sent little shivers through her abdomen, and she found her arms going around him, pulling his body closer.
Price snapped his head back so fast that his teeth nicked her lip. She touched her mouth, felt the way it throbbed while his dark eyes studied her.
“Fake?” he demanded. “Was any of that fake?”
She shook her head, unable to argue further. “It felt pretty real.”
“It was real.” He bumped her forehead with his, his arms going around the small of her back. “For whatever reason, you’re still here. I don’t care why. We get to be together. Nothing can separate us. Except ourselves.”
She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear. He made it sound like she had a choice.
“I don’t know what to do, Price,” she whispered. “But I have to start down this path. I have to see where it can lead.” And if she proved Bill had murdered her . . . the burning rage in her heart confirmed her deepest desire.
Leading Price through the overgrown vegetation in her yard embarrassed her, even though she knew it shouldn’t. “When did Bill move the pick-up truck?”
“What pick-up?”
“The one that was right here.” She stepped into the spot where the grass still hadn’t grown back.
“It hasn’t been here the whole time I’ve lived next door.”
She frowned. She remembered it from the days she’d repeated in her head before realizing she was dead. So he must’ve moved it after she died but before Price moved in.
They climbed back into her room through the window she’d left open. The door was closed, as always. “So what were my parents doing, those weeks when I was in my own fantasy world?”
Price shrugged. “Living, I guess.”
Kylee saw herself putting clothes on the line, talking to her mom while she pounded dough, gathering the chicken eggs. All in her head.
Price’s eyes wandered around her room, and he gave a soft laugh. “Looks the same as the last time I was here. Only, there’s no one charging through the doorway at me.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she muttered, wondering how the room must look to him. A twin bed, wrapped in a blue blanket in the middle of the threadbare, tan carpet. A teddy bear on the floor beside the bed. An old, warped desk with a stack of books on it and a white plastic chair tucked into it.
Nothing else. Nothing in the room to indicate who Kylee had been.
“What are we doing in here, exactly?” Price asked. He hadn’t budged from the spot next to the window.
“It’s creepy, isn’t it?” Kylee said.
He lifted one shoulder. “You know. Dead girl’s room.”
“Murder site,” she added. “Or almost.” She hadn’t died until she got to the tree.
“So where did it happen?”
Kylee’s eyes landed on the carpet next to the bed. She recognized the spot even though she’d been staring at the ceiling, trying to fight Bill off. “Right here. Wait a minute.” How had she not noticed it before? “That’s not where my bed was.”
“Where was it?”
“About three feet more that way.” She pointed toward the wall. “It’s way too close to the door right here.”
“Well, let’s find out why.” Price took hold of the footboard and scooted it forward. Kylee went to the head and pushed while he pulled.
“Stop,” she said, spotting what she was after. She knelt down and pressed her fingers against the exposed square of bare hardwood. Price joined her, squatting to be on her level.
“The carpet’s been cut,” she said.
“Evidence,” Price said.
“Yeah,” she agreed. She squinted at the dark wood. “But something could’ve still seeped through, right?”
“Something? You mean, like blood?”
The door to Kylee’s room flew open, and both of them jerked their heads up. Theresa stood there, not in a dress, but in her normal house shirt and sweats. Her blue eyes widened in shock, her pupils narrowed to pinpricks.
“Mom,” Kylee said, pushing herself to her feet. She knew from her mom’s eyes she wasn’t feeling well.
Her mother focused on Price. “What are you doing in my daughter’s room?” she breathed, her nostrils flaring.
“Um, well, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Price floundered.
Theresa’s eyes focused on the patch of missing carpet and then back on Price.
“Why aren’t you at church?” Kylee blurted. “Is Bill home too?” She felt the blood drain from her face at the thought. Metaphorically, anyway. “Price, you better go.”
“Hang on,” he murmured. “Is your husband home?”
Theresa scrunched up her brows. “What?” Then they lifted in understanding. “You’re that boy that’s been coming around. Asking questions about Kylee.” She stepped nearer. “Why?”
“Uh . . .” Price said.
Kylee felt her shoulders relax. Bill must not be home, or he would’ve come to investigate. “Tell her,” she said on impulse.
“What?” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
“Why are you coming around?” her mother repeated.
“Tell her the truth!” Kylee said.
“She won’t believe me!” he hissed.
Theresa’s head shot around, searching the room. “Who are you talking to?”
“Me, Mom, it’s me!” Kylee yelled.
“It’s Kylee,” Price said, then he winced. “I mean . . . I’m talking to your daughter.”
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