The Death of a Suspect (Clearview Academy Book 2)

by Amy Richie

  My tongue slid between my closed lips, moistening them slightly. Clark didn’t look up, even though he must have heard the car door. I didn’t like him to be mad at me, it made my stomach clench up.

  “Hey,” Laney called out to him. “Any luck with this thing?” She thumped the side of the car.

  “A little,” he shrugged.

  “Laney,” a woman yelled from the door of the trailer.

  Laney rolled her eyes before turning around. “Yeah?”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I was at the library.” She whirled back around to me and Clark. “I told her I was going to the library today,” she moaned.

  “You know how your mom is,” I snarled back. “She probably forgot.”

  “I’ll have to go in and see what she wants.” Her eyes darted between me and her brother. “Are you coming with me or staying here?”

  “I’ll stay with Clark.” My lips pursed. I didn’t really want to stay with him but I wasn’t going in there to listen to Laney’s mom.

  “Suit yourself,” she shrugged before trotting away to the trailer.

  “Lucky me,” Clark muttered after Laney was out of ear shot.

  “What?”

  “You’re going to grace me with your presence?”

  “Are you close to getting this thing working?” For lack of anything of anything better to look at, I stared intently at the motor.

  “No.”

  “Just no?” How long was he going to stay mad at me?

  “Yep,” Clark’s lips popped on the single word.

  “I don’t even get why you’re pissed.” I kept my eyes on the motor, it was easier to feign innocence that way.

  “You wouldn’t talk to me at the field.”

  “What?” My forehead puckered all over again. “Yes I did.”

  Clark’s lips turned up into an unattractive smile. “So, I’m good enough for you here?”

  “Clark.”

  “I saw the face you made at my mom.”

  “You make the same faces,” I explained quietly.

  “It’s not the same and you know it.”

  I did know it.

  “You look down on us, it’s just who you are.”

  “There’s just...” I rubbed my hands roughly over my face. “There’s a lot going on, Clark. Can’t you understand that?”

  “You came to me for help,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I had to.” My breath was coming heavier, I heard the desperation in my own ears. “You’re the only one on that damn cupcake with me.”

  Clark went quiet – too quiet.

  “I...” There was nothing I could say though. I hadn’t come to Clark because he was my friend or even because I considered him a peer of mine. He was absolutely right, I knew he was beneath me. And yet, I still came to him.

  “The fuel line is shot,” he muttered, turning back to the car.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to go get a new one.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  He looked up at me and our gazes locked. I wished I knew the words to make him understand what I was feeling – the sensation that I was drowning while walking around hunting down my killer. My heart wanted me to push all that I was before aside and fling myself into his arms but my upbringing wouldn’t let me. People didn’t just stop being who they were.

  “See you later, Princess,” Clark promised vaguely, then hopped on his bike and left me standing there alone. Again.

  I STUDIED MY FACE IN the familiar oval mirror. I looked the same – almost – it was so weird. To me, I didn’t look or feel dead.

  Humming lightly, I picked up my brush and began pulling it through my hair. I missed this, I missed my room, I missed my mom telling me how to be the best version of myself, I missed Lindsey.

  I glanced up - into the smiling face of Nina. It was my favorite picture of us. We were twelve and hadn’t met Billie yet. That was the last summer we believed in magic.

  Right below that picture was me and Tyler at the Homecoming dance junior year. His arm was clutched possessively around my waist, my smile was plastered on my face so wide – it was painfully fake. How could he have not known?

  He probably did know, I realized hollowly.

  I wasn’t the girl in those pictures anymore. My thoughts were changing – I was changing. It wasn’t my looks that made me different; my hair was still thick and full, my face was still flawless, my teeth were still straight and perfect.

  The difference in me went deeper than that.

  “I miss Clark,” I realized in a whisper. I didn’t have a picture to remember him but his face was the one that came the clearest to me. I blinked rapidly, ashamed of the tears that were gathering in the corners. Hopefully he didn’t stay mad at me for long, I liked me better when Clark was on my side.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. What I needed to do was find Clark and tell him how sorry I was. Even though I wasn’t sure how to change – I did know that Clark Daniels was worth changing for.

  That was enough, for now.

  Taking a deep breath, I pursed my lips in determination and stood up from the vanity. I couldn’t give myself any time to think it through, I was going to find him now.

  Suddenly my bedroom door clicked open, making my heart accelerate. That’s all I needed – for someone in my family to catch me in there when I was supposed to be dead.

  Wait...

  Lindsey’s head poked around the door. In my surprise, my tense body relaxed slightly. What was she doing in my room?

  Lindsey sucked in a breath and moved quickly across the room to the closet. She flung the door open with force; almost as if she were angry – or scared. “There’s no money in there,” I informed her.

  She ruffled through my clothes, obviously looking for something. My eyebrows dipped low on my forehead as I watched her. She had never borrowed my clothes before, she always said I dressed to much like a boy for her. Was this some kind of sentimental thing? I really hoped not, there was no reason to make things awkward.

  “There we go.” Lindsey stepped back out of the closet, triumphantly holding up a long silver gown. I recognized the garment – it was the dress I wore to prom last year.

  “What?”

  I thought she was leaving but she turned instead and went to the vanity. Moving out of her way, I watched her sit on my bench. Moving to place myself next to her, I crossed my arms across my chest.

  I really hated when she came into my room. When we were in middle school, Lindsey would come into my room just to destroy things. One time I had gotten a better grade than her on a math test and she got pissed by the attention dad gave me so she brought scissors into my room and cut up four of my shirts before I caught her.

  Lindsey was crazy, really crazy.

  As I watched, she picked up the same brush I had just been using and began to brush her own hair with it. It was what we were taught – even if you're crying, make sure you look proper and put together.

  Suddenly weighed down by her sadness, I sank down on the edge of my bed. Lindsey really was upset about what had happened to me, I realized all at once. It wasn't just a show because she felt like she had to be sad. It was all too much – everything was just too much.

  “She was going through your closet?” Laney's mouth fell open in sympathetic shock.

  “Yeah.” I pulled my knees up to my chest, getting more comfortable on her bed. “Then she started using my brush.”

  “Who does that?”

  “She has her own brush.” Why did she have to use mine and make things all emotional? It was awkward.

  “Siblings are the worst,” Laney rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “Yeah.” I pushed my bottom lip out. “Why couldn't I have been an only child?”

  “Imagine me,” she chuckled, jabbing at her chest, “I have a twin. We were together all the time.”

  Clark.

  “Brothers are probably differen
t though.”

  “I doubt it.” Laney plucked three shades of pink polish from a box and held them up for me to see. “Which one?”

  “None,” I scowled. “Use red.”

  “Yeah?” She dropped the bottles back and dug around for more.

  “Have you seen much of Clark today?”

  “Not really,” she mumbled, not looking at me.

  “We had a fight today,” I admitted.

  “You two always fight.” She held up two bottles.

  “Because we're so different.” I pointed to the bottle on the right.

  “Because you're rich and he's poor?”

  “Maybe,” I shrugged. “I like Clark but I don't know how to...not fight with him.”

  “Well,” she unscrewed the lid of the red nail polish, “I suppose you'll always fight because you're different people.”

  “That's...not very good advice, Laney.”

  “I doubt that you want to date yourself.”

  “What?” She was extraordinarily bad at this.

  “I think you and Clark balance each other well.”

  My eyebrows furrowed as her words sank in. Tyler and I didn't fight much because we were virtually the same person – but that whole thing ended with a dead body behind a dumpster. Clark saw something in me that was different, he brought something out of me that I never knew was there.

  “Well,” I sighed deeply, “he's mad at me now and I have no idea how to make it right.”

  “You could just say you're sorry.” She wiggled her newly painted toes in my direction. “Are you sure red isn't too...hoochie?”

  STANDING ON THE TRAILER steps, I stared out at Clark. Like usual, he was working on his old car. I chewed nervously on the inside of my lip, debating whether I should go out and talk to him or not.

  The truth was, I didn't know what to say. Laney told me just to say I was sorry and be honest with him. What senior boy wanted a girl to be honest though? He wanted me to see things like he did, to say he was right.

  The thing was, I wasn't sure Clark was right. I wasn't sure Laney was right either. Clark and I might just be too different. It certainly didn't help that I was dead. Maybe it wasn't fair to start something that I wasn't sure I could see through.

  If the reaper let me live again, would I still want to date Clark Daniels?

  Getting along with him now wasn't a bad idea, I reasoned with myself as I crossed the driveway. "Hey," I called nervously. "You're out here early."

  "Go away Avery."

  My lips pursed out. "Stop being a baby Clark."

  "I'm being a baby?" Angry, he pulled his body out from under the hood so he could glare at me.

  "Yeah," I crossed my arms over my chest. "I can't change who I am."

  "No one asked you to."

  "You are," I flung my hands wide. "You want me to make out with you in public when I don't even know what this is. I'm confused."

  He scoffed loudly.

  "I just died and then I find out that my friends aren't really my friends at all. No one can see me, I can't even get mad at anyone because they only hear me out of Laney's mouth." My voice was shaking too much to go on.

  "I didn't want you to make out with me," he said quietly.

  "I just wish that things would go back to normal."

  "Well," he raised both eyebrows, "let me help you out, Princess. You wouldn't normally talk to me."

  In a move that was quickly becoming typical, Clark got on his bike and rode away. He didn't look back. How many times was he going to leave me standing alone? He said he would help me.

  "Damn you," I whispered to no one; I was alone.

  Why couldn't he try to understand what I was saying? I really wanted to make things right with Clark but if he wasn't willing to listen, that might not be possible. I took a deep breath and let it out heavily, sad all over again.

  Was this one of the stages of death?

  "Where's Clark?" Laney asked from behind to me. "I thought I saw him out here."

  "He was," I turned back to her, "he left already."

  "Did you guys talk?"

  "I did. He didn't really say much back."

  "He'll come around," Laney promised. "He just needs time to think."

  I couldn't be sure how much time I had, hopefully he would be done thinking soon. "I guess so," I shrugged.

  "Are you ready to go?"

  "Go where?"

  "Don't you remember?" She waved her cell phone at me. "Lindsey asked us to come over."

  Right. Just what I needed to make my morning better, I thought sarcastically.

  “THIS IS A NICE TABLE,” Laney commented nervously.

  “You already said that,” Lindsey said without looking up from her sheet of paper. “It's just a table.”

  “I've never seen a table this...nice though,” she continued breathlessly.

  Lindsey looked up long enough to roll her eyes. “Are you planning on talking about the table the whole time?”

  “N...no.”

  “Don't worry about her,” I groaned. “She's a snob.”

  “I didn't,” Laney shook her head quickly back and forth – eyes wide, “I didn't think she was being a snob.”

  Lindsey's tongue clicked loudly against the roof of her mouth. “Is that what Avery said? That I'm a snob?”

  Laney's eyes shifted from me to Lindsey.

  “Tell her to shut up.”

  “No...I don't...”

  “What is she saying?” Lindsey snapped. “Is she talking about me?”

  “What are you girls doing in here?”

  We all three turned to see my mom standing there in the doorway . She looked different than the last time I had seen her; her face was paler, her cheeks more sunken.

  “Party planning,” Lindsey tapped her pen on the paper.

  “That's...still going on then?”

  “It's still my birthday,” Lindsey frowned. “It lands on the same day every single year.”

  Mom cleared her throat lightly. “Who's this?”

  “This is Laney...Montgomery.”

  For Laney's part, she didn't give away her surprise at the fake name. Why would Lindsey give a fake name?

  “She was friends with Avery.”

  “We met at camp,” Laney explained quickly.

  Mom smiled slightly. “Well, you girls have fun,” she said on her way out.

  "She's been weird lately," Lindsey rolled her eyes.

  "She did just lose a daughter." Laney mumbled the exact words I was going to say. Lindsey could be so heartless.

  "Let's go to my room," Lindsay suggested, gathering her notebook and springing up from the table. "I have something I want to show you."

  We followed her up the stairs and past my closed door to get to her room. I hadn't spent alot of time in my sister's room since we hadn't been close in a while. It was just how I remembered it though. A huge bed complete with canopy was set up in the middle, a vanity similar to mine pressed against one wall, and a large bookcase was against another. There were no pictures in Lindsey's room.

  "Here." She pulled out my old prom dress and draped it over the bed. "I want you to wear this to the party."

  "I have a dress." She looked to me for confirmation.

  "This is Avery's prom dress from last year," she explained to Laney. "Tyler loved this dress."

  "What about the dress I bought?"

  "When you wear this," Lindsay ran her finger along the material of the dress, "He'll think he's seeing a ghost. It might scare him enough to tell the truth."

  "That's actually brilliant," I grinned wide. "Wow."

  "Avery says it's a good idea," Laney said as if that settled everything.

  "Let's see if it fits."

  In no time, we were all staring at Laney in my old prom dress. It was almost a perfect fit. Her boobs were bigger than mine but it just made her cleavage that much better.

  "I knew it would fit," Lindsey declared triumphantly.

  Laney swallowed loudly. "I don't
know if I like the idea of ghosts," she murmured.

  "How can you even say that with my dead sister standing beside you?"

  "She has a point," I seconded.

  "Ok." Lindsay clicked her tongue. "I'll help you with your hair and makeup, just come here early before the party."

  "Will we tell people I was friends with Avery?"

  "Yes," Lindsey nodded. "We'll tell people that you're family friends with Clark's family."

  "And that you're staying with him since your grandma died," I continued.

  "Will they believe that?"

  "They'll believe anything that I tell them to believe," Lindsay assured her. "Now - we need to talk about Clark."

  Chapter Five

  “That went well, huh?" Laney was spared having to look at me since she was driving, but it was so obvious that she was lying.

  "That party is nothing to worry about," I assured her. "Jimmy Vale always has the biggest party of the summer, Lindsey's is more of a get-together."

  Mom and Dad would never let us have a party that anyone would consider cool, so Lindsey kept it small on purpose. She invited only the best of Clearview. The rich kids. The kids that Clark and Laney wouldn't even dare to wave at if they passed on the street.

  These people didn't know Laney though. They only knew what Lindsey told them, and for them- her word was good enough.

  "I'm not nervous," Laney lied again. "I just feel bad because you spent so much on that dress."

  "We can take the dress back."

  "Oh."

  "Or you can just keep it. Consider it a gift."

  We pulled into her driveway in silence. I wasn't sure what she was thinking. Her tongue worked against inside of her lips. I wished that I could reassure her enough.

  Clark was standing outside when we got out of the car. "Can I talk to you?" he asked me with his hands in his pockets.

  "I'll see you inside Avery," Laney whispered on her way to the front door.

  "What's up?" I asked without looking at him. I really didn't know how much more of him running away from me that I could take.

  "I want to talk to you."

  "So you said."

  "Look," he swallowed hard and took several steps in my direction, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier."