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I woke up to a beautiful summer’s day; obviously, it being Miami. A glorious sea breeze was wafting in through the open window, and I could hear a pretty good busker outside playing one of my favorite songs. I didn’t have school for another couple of months- hey, wait a minute. I was seventeen. I only had another year left, but I was averaging a C in all classes. Why was I even going back? I’d never make it to college, unless my dad decided to donate a sports arena to one. Forget school, I was done with it. Wow, that was a load off. I could finally get back to enjoying a relaxing day.
Except I couldn’t, because of the dead body in the room.
I knew I was trying to make a point about something.
‘Ah, Sleeping Beauty has awakened,’ Ronnie announced, as I greeted the room with a groan.
‘I was never asleep,’ George piped up.
‘Funny. Very funny. Did you have any ideas about George the Second whilst I was asleep?’
‘Yes. You should call the police,’ Ronnie said. I sat up, nodding and wondering why I was even in this position.
‘I guess it was heading that way. I’ve only been putting off the inevitable. Well, better get this phone call over with,’ I sighed, reaching for my cell.
‘That’s a bad idea,’ George trilled. I stopped, hand in mid-air.
‘Why?’
‘You got a dead body delivered to your door. Instead of calling the cops straight away, you took it in, removing evidence and fingerprints. You then waited for ten hours to call them, after stealing from the corpse. None of that really puts you in a good light.’
‘Hey, I put the wallet back. And maybe I was afraid, okay?’ I retorted, but I could feel my hand slowly retracting towards my body.
‘So, why didn’t you scream louder when you saw it? Raise the alarm?’
‘Because... damn it, I hate you,’ I tutted.
‘I’m only asking what they’ll ask,’ he shrugged, walking through the TV. ‘They’ll wonder why you’re here alone, and they’ll start digging around. They’ll find out that Angela’s apparently your stepmom, and they’ll realize that’s a lie. You’ll get shipped back to Dayton and poor Ronnie here’ll never have justice.’
‘Aw, thanks for thinking about me,’ Ronnie grinned. ‘Suppose you’re right, though.’
‘Alright, no cops. What’s plan B?’
They each gave me a blank look. Pretty reassuring.
‘Okay, forget that for a minute. Let’s look at what we know about you,’ I said instead to Ronnie. ‘Angela killed you by whacking you over the head and tossing you in the water. So, no evidence there. Were there any cameras around?’
‘Nope.’
‘Any witnesses at all? Or, anybody who saw you walking together?’
‘None whatsoever.’
‘Great. Simply wonderful. And you still have no clue about the location of the briefcase?’
‘Cripes, I’d forgotten about that. So, no,’ he concluded.
Why did I feel like we had less than what we started with? Technically I had more, considering the new mangled addition to our team, but I couldn’t even think where Jorge fit into all of this. Maybe nowhere. Maybe none of this would ever make sense. It sure felt like it, anyway.
Ronnie didn’t have friends. He was killed in a foreign country where no-one knew him but his killer. If not for me, she would’ve already gotten away with it. And to be honest, there was nothing I could actually do here. You win some, you lose some. This was a loser.
Now all I had to do was make sure that Ronnie knew that so he could come to peace with it. Easier said than done.
I started off with “the look.” You know, one of complete depression, hope abandoned, utter despair taking over. I accidentally learned it from my father.
Then, I took a deep breath. He’d been watching me, confused up until then, but as soon as I opened my mouth it dawned on him.
‘Don’t say it,’ he warned.
‘Ronnie...’ I started anyway. He leapt up off the armchair and marched over to me, furiously shaking his head.
‘No! I won’t let her get away with this.’
‘I don’t think we’re going to have a choice. We have-’
‘No!’
‘-Nothing on her whatsoever,’ I said calmly – but firmly - over his yells. ‘The only thing I can possibly do is tell the cops who you are and who she is. That’s it.’
‘What about the money? She’ll have gone to your aunt’s to find it.’
‘And she’ll have found nothing,’ I pointed out. ‘I can tell the cops that story, but it’s not going to help. She can easily pretend she went to Boca Raton for a drive.’
‘Surely that’ll be enough to arouse their suspicions?’ he attempted, but I could see even he had trouble believing that.
‘Not really. And not if she tells them what she told the hotel staff, too. You ran off with a younger model, remember? She has her story all worked out if anyone asks. I’m sorry, Ronnie. Truly, I am.’
As I watched the hope fall from his face to be replaced with despair, I felt pretty awful. Nobody liked being the bearer of bad news, and I unwillingly took up that mantle a lot more than I would’ve appreciated. That was something rarely understood by lucies. Yeah, it wasn’t great for them, but it was even worse for me. I had to deal with the burden after they left. They assume I can go through their trauma with them and wave them off into the sunset without a care in the world. Not so. I am a human, and I have enough baggage of my own to deal with. Still, I keep on adding to the pile, because I’m just so nice.
Or, I was a pushover and let people walk all over me.
Already I could see Ronnie’s rage directed at me. Like any of this was my fault! I was the one trying to help him here. And what did I get? A dead body at my door. I don’t know why I bothered. After the recent Tommy fiasco, I’d planned to spend the rest of my life ignoring lucies. Speaking to George was supposed to be a one-time thing, but he didn’t look ready to leave any time soon. So, looks like I was stuck doing something I didn’t like for the rest of my days.
Ugh. Who said teenage years were the best?
I stole a glance at Ronnie. He’d been quiet for long enough now, surely he’d have dealt with it. His rage had melted into forlornness. Denial, anger, a little bargaining, some depression. Almost there.
Finally, he looked up at me, resolute. He’d come to peace with it. I set my face to apologetic when he spoke first.
‘No!’
‘Ronnie...’ I groaned. So close, and yet so far.
‘I am not letting that bitch take my life and my money. I am going to follow her nonstop until I find something. I swear, I will not let her get away with this.’
‘But-’
But he was already flying out the door. Sighing, I turned to a silent George to see what he had to say. No doubt it was something I wouldn’t like.
‘You were rude.’
Well, what do you know?
‘He has to know. I’m not a superhero. There’s only so much one person can do. Sometimes, that’s not a lot.’
‘But you know who killed him,’ he exclaimed, bright-eyed and full of hope as ever. It was getting tiring.
‘I know who killed a lot of people, and that’s all I know. I swear, I think a third of prisons are full of innocents.’
‘And you’re letting them fester in there, knowing they’re innocent?’
‘Alright,’ I snapped, folding my arms, ‘what do you suggest I do about it?’
It’s like lucies forgot how the world worked, or something. It wasn’t great, but it’s what we had. Innocent people went to prison and guilty people went free sometimes. Some people never got their comeuppance and others got nothing but. None of that changed because they were dead.
As I stared him out, I guess he eventually realized it, too.
‘There has to be something you can do,’ he said, frustrated. Hey, I felt the same sometimes. Nothing like having a gift you can’t use.
‘Not a one thing,’ I told him, reaching for the hotel landline. I called down for room service, giving him the chance to come up with some amazing, never-before-seen idea. Alas, he remained quiet.
‘Maybe you could start a detective agency,’ he said slowly, sounding it out.
‘All my clients would be dead,’ I reminded him. ‘And I’m absolutely crap at detecting, anyway.’
‘I bet you could do a course of some sort,’ he said, getting pepped up. ‘And Mickey and Ally could work with you. She could do all the legal stuff and he could take care of the internet side of things. You’d be the literal medium. All you’d have to do is listen to the lucies.’
‘You should sell that to HBO.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘So am I. Could make a killing.’
He started with the puppy-dog eyes again and I had to stop my own from rolling.
‘You don’t want to help anybody at all, do you?’
‘What about what I want?’ I countered.
‘You don’t want anything.’
‘Exactly. And I’m fine with that. So, why don’t you get to grips with that,’ I called over my shoulder as there was a knock on the door.
I received my bacon pancakes without any fuss or unwanted bodies as a side gift. At least I still only had the one to deal with. Admittedly, one more than I’d hoped for, but whatever.
‘If you really want to help people, help me. What do I do with Jorge?’ I asked, mouthful of dough.
‘Call the cops,’ he said, eyes resentfully on me. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was eating or because of me in general.
‘You told me not to, remember?’
‘I changed my mind. I can’t even smell it,’ he added softly.
I nearly choked on my breakfast before I understood.
‘Look on the bright side. You can’t smell him, either. And he’s starting to,’ I realized, putting down my fork and balking.
‘Maybe I should call the cops.’
I picked up my cell and dialed before I could chicken out again.
‘What are you going to say?’ he asked, right as the operator picked up.
‘There’s a dead body in my hotel room,’ I told them both. That ought to do it.