Early the next morning, bleary-eyed and barely aware of what clothes I’d tossed on, I sat in the passenger seat of Nell’s car, waiting in the drive-thru of the Tim Hortons’.
“What do you think Nancy will find out when she calls the university?” Nell asked.
“Nothing. The university probably doesn’t even know Kent’s gone.”
“That’s what I figure, too.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “How’s Casper doing with his new brother?”
“They were both sleeping when I left.” I checked out the overturned garbage cans along the street. Of the things I’ll never understand, vandalism has to be in my top twenty. “I’m assuming they’re fine. Kent said he’s going to go home today. He can’t do much, but he wants to be around his mom.”
“It must be nice for him—Serge, I mean. Having someone who understands his situation.”
“I understand his situation!”
Nell gave me a soft smile. “You know his situation, but Serge gets it. Serge’s living it.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “No pun intended.” She put the car in gear and pulled up to the menu board.
“My treat,” I said when she’d finished ordering two large double-doubles and a pack of ten Timbits.
She shook her head. “Save your money.” She glanced at my sweater. “Use it to pay for a nice funeral for that outfit.”
“Hey!”
Nell pulled up to the next window, paid, and got our breakfast. “I suggest cremation. That sweater should be burned.”
“I would, but considering your top looks like it’s painted on, the fumes might present a fire hazard.”
Nell grinned at me from the top of her cup. “Baby, I am a fire hazard.” She took a pull of her drink. “Since we’re talking hot topics, did you hear from Craig?”
“Radio silence.” I pulled the tab off my cup and let the vapours of dark roast coffee scent the air. “Should I be worried?”
“I don’t think his silence is regular boyfriend silence, and I don’t think you should worry.”
Her mention of worry reminded me of Rori. “Does your dad have any updates on Rori?”
She nodded. “He said Dr. Pierson’s been hovering and so’s Mrs. Pierson. They’re a couple of basket cases. I guess one of the nurses had to ask them to leave because they were fighting in her room.”
Whoa. “A nurse kicking out worried parents—one of whom is a doctor at the hospital? That’s big.”
“Major big, but it was upsetting the kid. Other than that, Rori’s doing great. They’re waiting on the test results, but so far she has a mild concussion and they’re going to keep her for a couple of days—mostly to give her a break from her folks, but she should be fine. Her mom says she’s asking about us. You up for a visit when she gets home?”
I nodded, pulled a Timbit from the box, and bit into the bite-sized frosted pastry. Man, nothing like sugar, caffeine, a warm car and a good friend to help me feel like I was going to figure out Kent and his death. I scarfed down the Timbit, reached for another, and let the town pass me by in a blur of grey sky and barren trees.
The buzz of my cell caught my attention. I pulled it out and checked the screen. “It’s a text from Craig.” I opened the app and read, In the middle of all of it, there is still beauty. I smiled and turned the phone so Nell could see the picture he’d included: zebras silhouetted against the red sky of a setting sun.
“Don’t you think it’s weird, that kid going missing?” Bruce asked when Nell and I found him and Tammy in the school cafeteria.
The faint smell of bacon and hash browns wafted from the kitchen but I was happy with the cup of coffee in my hand. “Weird?”
“Come on.” He leaned forward. “First Serge, then you, some doctor’s kid.”
“Rori,” said Nell. “Her name is Rori.”
He leaned back, made the blue plastic chair squeak. “Don’t you see the connection?”
I figured he was missing a connection—or three. Judging from the earnest look on his face, saying so would have been hurtful, so I went with, “No, sorry, I’m missing it.”
“Serge died, then you almost died, then Rori almost died.”
“Serge was murdered, I was caught in the crosshairs of a murder investigation, and Rori slipped on a ladder.”
Bruce shook his head. “It’s Serge.”
Disbelief worked like a psychic homing beacon and brought Serge to me.
He flashed into the seat beside me. “What’s going on? I was just teaching Kent about using text apps—”
“Serge?” I said as Nell’s phone beeped his text.
She glanced at it and I continued, “You think Serge was behind what happened to Rori Pierson.”
Serge’s eyes went wide, then narrowed into slits. “Are you kidding me? Even dead, I’m being blamed for the bad stuff that happens in this town?”
Bruce nodded. “Until Serge, how many people had been murdered in town?”
I shrugged. So did the rest of the group.
“There have been two murders in the last twenty-seven years,” said Bruce. “Then Serge dies. That’s one death—well, plus the stuff with his folks. But then you almost die, so does that little kid. All within the last month.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Trust me, Serge is behind this.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised—” Serge said, shaking his head.
Nell looked up from her phone. “Why are you blaming him? He’s dead.”
Bruce straightened. “I’m not blaming—the opposite. I think Serge is trapped in between our world and the next. He’s calling for help—”
“—and almost killing kids in the process?” I asked.
Bruce shrugged. “It’s Serge. It’s not like he’s going to write a polite note asking for help.”
Serge laughed, the sound partly hollow and mostly sad. “He’s got a point.”
Confusion made wrinkles in Nell’s face. “How do you figure kids dying and Serge—”
Oh, no. No way. I wasn’t going get into Bruce logic. I had enough to deal with when it came to Nell logic. “Uh, that can wait. You want to talk to Serge—”
“To see if he’s okay,” said Tammy.
Serge went still, then laughed. “What do they think I’m going to say? Like...HHHEELLLPP?”
I went for mental communication with the ghost. Seriously. No more Scooby Doo.
“We think Serge is trapped in this plane,” said Tammy, “and we want to free him.”
He stopped laughing. “Actually, that’s kind of sweet.” He blinked, then blinked again. “And more than I deserve.”
“Exactly. We’ll cross him over.” Bruce’s fingers twitched. “Maybe get a chance to say sorry for being such a jerk to him.”
“I think he knows,” said Nell.
Under the table, I kicked her foot.
“—he would know and forgive you.” Nell gave me a bland smile made sarcastic because she knew the truth.
Tammy’s shake of her head made strands of her hair stick in her lip-gloss. “Not if he’s trapped. Then he may not know anything. He might be in pain.”
“How are you going to do it?” I asked.
“An Ouija board,” she said. “You in?”
That was going to be problematic. Me plus anything that acted as a magnet for spirits was going to equal every ghost showing up at my door.
Can I come?
Serge’s question sounded in my head.
Rattle some chains?
I’ll rattle your chains if you do.
“You need to be there,” said Bruce. “I think you have a special connection with him.”
Serge laughed. Boy, they don’t know the half of it, do they, Mags?
“Nell’s coming—” Bruce continued.
Of course she was. Had Nell been at the burning of Rome, she’d have brought marshmallows.
“—if you come that’s four of us. Five if we can get a hold of Craig.” Bruce’s face scrunched together. “I tried texting but he hasn’t responded.” His gaze found me. “You’re his girlfriend. Do you know what’s going on?”
“Uh, he had to visit family. They live in a remote area. Not sure if they get cell reception where they’re at.”
Nell had a sudden coughing fit.
“Anyway, you on board?” He grinned. “For the board?”
“Um, I’m not sure...”
“You gotta come.”
Dang. He looked so sincere. “Let me think on it, okay?”
Bruce’s disappointment was almost palatable. He stood. “This isn’t just about him, it’s about you too.”
Oh, boy. He didn’t know the half of it.