Who Killed You?
Chapter
“Alive.” Madame Humphrey closed her eyes and nodded. “Price made you feel alive. Because he saw you and felt you, and to him, you were alive. And the first time you touched him, he yanked you out of your memory and into his world. Into real life.”
A week ago, here at the boardwalk. That was the first time they’d touched. Had it been only seven short days since then?
“And then I saw my family as it really is,” Kylee said, understanding. “Living their lives without me. As if I didn’t exist.” Because she didn’t. She glanced down at the jeans and t-shirt she wore.
“What about my clothes?” She fingered the edge of the white shirt with a faded smiley face on it. “I change them every day. How come people don’t see a shirt and pants walking around with no person in them?”
“You still exist, Kylee. Your mental energy hasn’t faded. You create the illusion of your clothes. Those who can see you see what you want them to see.”
“So,” Kylee said, trying to digest that idea, “I’m not wearing anything?”
“You don’t get it,” Madame Humphrey whispered. “You are not anything. We see you because you are showing yourself in the form you know best.”
“But . . .” She was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I get it,” Price said. “She’s dead. She only exists as a mental energy, and she makes herself look like a girl.”
Kylee flinched at the harsh tone behind his words. She tried to pull her hand away, hurt. “I am a girl.”
His grip tightened around her fingers, not letting her go. “I know, Kylee.”
She looked at him, and her heart clenched at the agony in his eyes. She wished they could have a moment alone because she wanted to kiss him right now, kiss away the pain on his face.
He turned away from her. “So what now?” One finger rubbed over the top of her knuckle. The anger had gone from his voice, replaced by a tired sadness. “Kylee’s still here. She knows she’s dead. I’ve accomplished half my task. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Yeah,” Kylee chimed in. “It’s not like I can do anything about this. I’m as clueless as anyone. Lordy, I didn’t even know I was dead!”
“Maybe she’s not supposed to move on,” Price said, his voice gaining confidence. “Maybe she’s chosen not to.”
Had she chosen? Could she do that? She didn’t want to leave Price any more than he wanted her to go. But what kind of life—or un-life—would she have?
“And what would I do?” she asked, frowning at him. “Haunt my mom and Bill for the rest of their lives? And then whoever buys that house?”
Price shrugged. “You could just haunt me. That’s what ghosts do, right? ”
She gave him a tender smile. “But you’ll grow old. And I’m the same, every day. Give or take an outfit change.”
Price shifted to face her. “Kylee, you don’t have to go. We can make this work.”
She hated the desperation, the pleading in his expression. “It’s not a life for me. I can’t do it.”
“Not even for one lifetime with me?”
She felt tears burn her eyes. “Don’t make this about you, Price. It’s not fair.”
His hand withdrew from hers. “No. You’re right. It’s not about me.”
“Not to mention, she’s dead,” Madame Humphrey pointed out. “She can’t be your companion.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Price exploded. “I don’t care if she’s alive or dead! There’s no reason for her to ‘pass on,’ or whatever you call it!”
“Price,” Madame Humphrey said. “Right now Kylee exists. Her energy should have moved on, but it didn’t, it’s here. She will still exist after she moves on. But if she stays here, she won’t.”
That got Kylee’s attention. She straightened. “What do you mean, I won’t?”
“Remember that state of nothingness you were in earlier that we talked about? Where you didn’t exist?”
“Yes,” Kylee said, trying not to shudder at the reminder.
Madame Humphrey took Kylee’s hand and turned it over, showing off the blue stone on her ring. “Do you ever see another color in your ring?”
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Kylee nodded. “Sometimes it’s red.”
“How often?”
She shrugged. “Not as often as blue.”
“The red is you, Kylee, exerting your mental energy to make something happen. It takes a lot of work and doesn’t come naturally. The blue is Price. His mental energy buoys you up and gives you strength. When both of those colors vanish and the ring stops glowing, you cease to be. You will be nothing again, and this time there will be nothing to awaken you.”
Kylee swallowed past a lump in her throat. As much as she didn’t want to leave Price, she didn’t want to stop existing, either. It was like being threatened with a second death. “How long do I have?”
Madame Humphrey dropped her hand. “Judging from the color of that rock, a few days. His energy is already fading from you. A week, at most.”
Price glared at Madame Humphrey. “Okay, fine. She can’t stay. So what’s your solution? You said you have answers. Now tell me what to do.”
Madame Humphrey spread her hands wide across her knees. “Kylee is still here for a reason. Sometimes the reason has to do with the living, and sometimes it’s more personal. Kylee will stay until it’s resolved.”
“How do we find out what it is? What do we have to do?” he asked.
Madame Humphrey watched them, a sympathetic expression around her pinched eyes. “Do some investigation. Find out more about Kylee’s life and death.”
“Like, we have to solve a murder?” Kylee asked, thinking of the ghost stories she’d read in grade school. “Avenge a death?”
“Sometimes,” Madame Humphrey said.
“What if she killed herself?” Price asked.
“I didn’t,” she said. She lifted her chin and spoke to Madame Humphrey. “I remembered my death last night. I was murdered.”
“What do you mean, you remembered?” Price said. “You know something more than what you told me?”
“I told you I didn’t kill myself,” she said. “You didn’t believe me.”
“You said you couldn’t remember,” he countered.
“Who killed you, Kylee?” Madame Humphrey interrupted.
Kylee took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. “My stepfather. Bill.”
Price uttered a sound like a groan and rubbed the palms of his hands over his face.
“Why?” Madame Humphrey asked.
Kylee swallowed past a lump in her throat and blinked rapidly. “I don’t know why. We always fought. He always—he got violent a lot.” She lowered her eyes, her breathing shaky. “I think he lost control. He found one of my knives. I guess it was a great opportunity.”
Price jumped to his feet, agitation written all over his body language. “I knew it. I knew he did something.” He kicked the leg of his chair, then kicked it again.
“Price, if this is true,” Madame Humphrey said, taking control of the conversation again, “you and Kylee—especially Kylee—have to prove it. You have to figure out why this man hasn’t been charged with the crime. How did he get away with it? And then bring him to the attention of the authorities.”
Price gripped the back of the chair, his knuckles whitening. “How? How do we make him pay?”
Kylee moved to Price’s side. “It shouldn’t be that hard, right? I mean, I’m the perfect snoop. I can walk around and hear things and get into things, and no one will see me.”
“Believe it or not, Kylee,” Madame Humphrey said, a small smile on her lips, “people are going to start to suspect you’re still around. They’ll convince themselves it can’t be, that it’s not you. But just in case, they’re going to start doing things differently. Maybe hide things, become more secretive.”
“They do suspect,” Kylee said, nodding. “They’re afraid. Bill’s been acting funny. More paranoid than usual.”
“Bill doesn’t like me much,” Price said with a chuckle. “Gave me this shiner.” He pointed at the purplish-yellow bruise on his left eye.
“Then you should do your investigating from a distance,” Madame Humphrey said. “He can still hurt you.”
Price rocked forward, gripping the back of the chair. “But in the end, no matter what she finds, I’m the one who has to take it to the cops. I can’t say, ‘oh, a little ghost told me.’ I have to be able to say where I saw it, when, what I heard. I need to be hands-on. I have to get involved.”
Kylee pictured the cops in front of her house, questioning Price’s story, demanding evidence, asking Bill if it were true. “No, Price. Things could get dangerous.”
“I don’t mind danger.”
He seemed a little too eager. She shoved him with her shoulder, hoping to extinguish the excited light in his eyes. “Stop that. It’s almost like you have a death wish.”
“No, of course not!” he protested, though none too strongly.
Maybe he did have a death wish. With her dead, and his mother dead, maybe Price was thinking it would be better to move on. She clutched his arm, digging her fingernails in. She had to motivate him to keep living.
“Price, I need you to be alive. I can’t clear my name if you die.”
“Just think if there were two deaths,” he answered. “Can’t be coincidence. The police would have to look more closely at Bill.”
“There are other ways to incriminate Bill.”
He shrugged. “Sure. We can go over strategy.”
“You dying is not strategy!” Kylee exclaimed, her heart pumping faster. Or at least, it felt like it was. “It’s not a possibility! What would it do to your father? To Lisa if you died? She’s already lost her mother.”
He closed his eyes. “I know.”
Madame Humphrey stood and put her hand over Price’s. “You don’t want to die, Price,” she said, her voice warm and low.
“I never said I want to die,” he said, shaking his hand out from hers. “I’m just trying to imagine possible outcomes here.”
“You’re responding from a highly emotional state right now,” Madame Humphrey said. “You’re making decisions without logic or rationale. Step back. Try to see the bigger picture. Your life doesn’t hinge on this moment.”
“No,” he said. “But Kylee’s does.”
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