When Dad walks through the garage door, I'm seated on his floor with the receipt and Linzy's file laid out around me. He opens his mouth, but I hold up a finger. Not that one, my index.
"Don't yell. Yes, I know I shouldn't be in here, but for once you're going to love that I'm disobedient." I snatch the receipt and jump up.
I point to the list. "See. This is the charm I found. The one I told you about. I know it."
Dad takes the sheet from me and stares at it. The skin between his brows puckers. He looks at the papers on the floor and walks to them. He picks up the autopsy report and lays a finger on the crime scene photos. "Where did you get these?"
I return to my seat, suddenly wondering if this was the right idea. "You won't tell your girlfriend?"
"Olivia is not my girlfriend."
Yet. I see the smile in his eyes. He'd be a horrible poker player.
"Well?" he asks.
"Troy copied Linzy's file. Please don't get him in trouble. He'll never forgive me." And there will go my chances of becoming his girlfriend.
"I won't say anything. Maybe I should hire him. He's thorough." Dad sits on the floor and reads each of the pages.
I watch his expression change from a raised brow to a squint and back again.
When he's done, he looks up at me. "But you don't know for certain this is the same charm you found that night?"
I shake my head. "No, but…"
"Then all we have is a receipt." He starts to rise.
"No," I shout a bit louder than intended.
He frowns and sits fully back down.
"Look, I know you don't like when I snoop or try to get involved. I really do get it. You're protecting me. And if you didn't, if sneaking in here didn't give me heart palpitations, then I wouldn't love you so much."
He smiles. "But?"
"But being young doesn't mean I'm stupid."
He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "You're right. I shouldn't dismiss your idea simply because I don't want you involved. And for the record, I never think you're stupid."
It's my turn to smile. "So here's the thing. There's more to this than just what's on the floor."
He raises a brow. "Oh. Like what?"
I open my mouth and hesitate. "Um, how about we make a deal? I tell you all I know about Linzy's death, and you tell me all you know about Cameron's. And together we can see if my theory's correct."
Instead of immediately saying no, he looks down at the papers.
I hold my breath. Is it possible he'll agree? Can pigs suddenly fly? Is Lucifer slipping into ice skates?
He nods. "Okay. Let's do it."
Wait, what? "Seriously?"
He chuckles. "I think the charm may be a coincidence, but you think otherwise, so we should share information. Go ahead and tell me what else you know."
I hesitate for a second, wondering if he'll pull a fast one. Like I'll tell him everything, and then he won't reciprocate. But this is Dad, and he wouldn't do that to me. I hope. I first explain my list of suspects: Shayla, April, Mrs. Quinn, Eli, and Margo, who I never spoke with. I tell Dad that Shayla gave me this hate list, never revealing the news that I can see Linzy. I want him to take me seriously. For some reason, thankfully, he doesn't ask why Shayla would list herself.
I'd transferred all my notes to my new diary (Gotta get use out of it somehow.) and point out each suspect's motives. Then I finish with the binoculars and the money.
Dad runs his fingers through his hair. "So you think she witnessed Cameron's murder and was blackmailing his killer?"
"Yes."
"That would take a very manipulative young girl."
I roll my eyes. "Dad, Linzy wasn't nice. She was spoiled and jealous and vicious." Gosh, I hope she's not listening. Even though it's all true, it's kinda mean to say. Plus, the last thing I need is her coming at me with a blanket.
"I need coffee." Dad gets up with a groan and goes to the coffee maker.
I stay seated but turn to him. "So, it's your turn."
He glances at me from the corner of his eye. If he even considers backing out of our deal…
"Cameron was flashy but private. He bought the diamond cuffs for a charity event he'd been invited too, but there's no mention of what he did with the charm. It definitely sounds like something you'd give to a teen or a child, but as far as I've found, he didn't have children, siblings, or any young children in his immediate family."
Yes! I bite the inside of my cheek so I don't smile and remind Dad how young I am. Well, in his mind. I know I'm perfectly capable of hearing the truth. I get up and sit in one of the chairs facing his desk. "But it's definitely something you'd give a girl not a boy."
Dad nods. "It could've been a present for a child of a friend."
It's too much of a coincidence if he gave it to some obscure person, and then I find one exactly the same the night Linzy disappeared.
"The police believe his accountant killed him because Mr. Nelson was embezzling money from each of his clients. He has no alibi, so he looks good for it." Dad turns and sits at his desk. "But he had no real motive too. According to statements made after Nelson's arrest, Cameron never knew about the embezzling but another client did. I talked to that client, and he confirmed it. He'd found out about it the morning Nelson was arrested. He didn't come forward because he figured Nelson was guilty."
"Nice."
"Exactly." Dad glances at the machine, which has finished brewing, and grabs the giant mug that could pose as a small fish bowl.
"So do you think this other client killed Cameron and then framed the accountant?"
"No. That would mean he'd need to know Nelson was skimming off Cameron's books, too. An easy guess, but if he was wrong, his house of cards would fall down. And he has no motives to want Cameron dead either. From what I can tell, the two never met."
"What about the girlfriend?"
Dad quirks a brow at me. "Obviously I'm getting old and hadn't realized you snooped before today."
"No. I just know how to Google. Come on, Dad. The girlfriend being a suspect was all over the news."
He sips his coffee. "I forget that you think crime hunting is a hobby. Forgive me. The girlfriend was so distraught over Cameron's death, she had a nervous breakdown and was admitted to the hospital."
Wow, that seems so intense. I guess I never thought how a death can cause so much grief. It may sound stupid, but I don't remember Vincent, and all the other deaths I've been around haven't been personal. Until now. "Could Chloe be faking it?"
"Perhaps. This is what the district attorney's office wondered. They must've thought it was genuine because they didn't pursue it. I can't access that information. Sure you don't want to go to law school? Working for the state doesn't give you a lot of money, but you can catch the bad guys."
"I don't want to talk about the bad guys and try them in an unjust judicial system. I want to figure out who they are and track them down. Like this."
Dad leans back in his chair and just drinks his coffee for a moment. I can't tell if he's contemplating what I just said or considering shutting me out. "Let's leave the actual tracking to the police, okay?"
I smile wide. "Okay."
We spend hours combing through all the details of Cameron's death. I'm so stoked Dad lets me look at the autopsy and other reports. He doesn't just tell me the bits he thinks I can handle. I actually touch the papers. But by the time we're done, we're no closer to figuring out if Cameron's death and Linzy's are connected, though.
I gather Linzy's file while Dad reorganizes his desk. "What does this mean? What do you think?"
He shuts but doesn't lock his desk drawer. Point one for Piper. "I think we don't have enough. But I won't rule out that they're connected."
And that, for anyone not paying attention, is point two.
"You know, we're like Veronica and Keith Mars," I say.
He smirks. He doesn't follow a lot of television, but he sat with me and watched the first season on DVD a year ago.
"I'm still waiting on more information into Cameron's life," he says. "I put a call in to a local reporter who did a series of interviews with Cameron a couple of months before his death. He's sending me his research material. Is there any way to go back through Linzy's things and try to find where she got the money from?"
I stand before his desk. "I can try, but we tore apart her room. Maybe I can find a file on her computer or something."
"You still have it?"
I nod.
"I can find an IT guy."
"The police already went through it."
"We both know they sometimes miss things. They're human."
I hate to point out that if he proves the cops messed up Cameron's case and sent the wrong man to prison, Dad will probably lose points with Olivia. So I don't say a word. My stomach, however, grumbles. "I'm hungry. Are we doing take-out or leftovers?"
"Whichever you want. I could call for pizza." He's looking over the notes he made on Linzy's death.
"I'd rather leftovers." They're quicker, and I'm sick of pizza.
I turn to head to the kitchen and stop. All afternoon I've been thinking of how Cameron's girlfriend had a nervous breakdown and landed in the hospital. Is that why Mom left us? Is she still rotting away in some cell, drooling on her pillow?
"Dad, can I ask you something?"
He sets down the legal pad. "Of course, pumpkin. Anything."
Anything? Good. I swallow the lump in my throat. "Where's Mom?"
He looks up at me. "I don't know. I never lied about that."
Good to know. "Why did she leave? Really."
He rubs the muscles in the back of his neck. "She was sad after Vincent died."
"I know that. I want the non-politically correct answer."
He sits in his chair and sighs. That means he's going to tell me the whole truth, and I may want to sit.
I hurry to a chair and wait. I don't care if it takes him all day to finally admit whatever he's been hiding. I'm tired of not knowing.
"You didn't understand that Vincent was dead, that death was permanent. You'd ask when he was coming home."
My chest tightens. This is about me. I hoped Mom went crazy or she and Dad couldn't make it work anymore, anything but it being my fault.
"One day you no longer asked."
That's good, right?
"Your mother walked into Vincent's room and found you playing with his toy cars. Vincent used to get mad when you touched his things without asking. You looked at your mother and said, 'He said I could'. Mom knew you only said it to not get in trouble." Dad smiles.
I lied at age four, too?
"But as time went on, Mom often heard you talking to Vincent as if he was in the room with you."
I stifle a gasp.
"It shook your mother. She was having such a hard time dealing as is, and you were adamant about Vincent still being alive. You said you could see, talk, and play with him. She couldn't deal. She said she needed some time alone. She never returned."
So I drove my mother away?
Abeula was right. I've been able to see dead people my whole life.