"She's in business-mode," Kylie said. "She's not usually like this. If you want to get on her good side—"
Alex shot her a glare. Kylie went silent and backed up a step. Meagan noticed Alex's attention was elsewhere and looked over her shoulder.
"Uh, Alex? Are you okay?"
He smiled and stood up. The brief meeting went exactly as he thought it would.
"I'm fine. Thank you very much for seeing me."
He held out his hand. Kylie let out a long oh, finally understanding.
Meagan extended her hand, which Alex took.
"Hi, Mom."
Meagan's eyes went wide as she turned her head. Kylie smiled at her. Meagan gasped and tried to pull her hand free, but Alex didn't release his grip. He leaned in closer and grabbed her hand with both of his.
"I'm sorry. I know this is a shock. But believe me, this isn't a trick."
"What's going on? What is this?" Meagan reached out with her free hand to the desk for support. "Kylie—"
"It's me, Mom. But, unfortunately, I'm still dead."
Meagan reached out to touch her daughter. Her hand passed through Kylie's cheek. Meagan cried, and Kylie wasn't far behind her.
"Aw, c'mon," Kylie said. "You bawling is only going to make me cry, too."
"This is what I do," Alex said. "I see ghosts, and I can let others see them."
Meagan's knees shook. Alex wrapped an arm around her waist to help her stand.
"Shit," he said. "Don't pass out on me now."
"Let's go to the kitchen," Kylie said. "Get Mom some water."
*****
Ten minutes later, Alex sat next to Meagan at a dining table inside the kitchen. She nursed a glass of water Alex had poured for her, drinking with both hands. Alex rested his hand on the back of Meagan's neck, not feeling comfortable with the touching. Kylie sat across from them. Despite her improvement on the drive from Maryland to Florida, she did fall through the chair once. Meagan didn't blink at all. She was afraid that if she closed her eyes, her daughter would disappear.
Alex wanted to move forward, to get to the part where they worked out a financial arrangement, and he got started. But he contained himself, and the three of them simply sat in silence for several minutes. Kylie smiled bashfully and set her hand on top of her mother's. Even though they couldn't feel each other Meagan smiled as well.
"How…is this possible?" Meagan asked.
Alex waved off her question. There was no need to go into his unusual history.
"Details," he said. "I have some cool things I can do with ghosts. Kylie found me, and here I am."
"God, I've missed you," Meagan told Kylie. "I love you. I should have said it so much more."
"Me, too. I'm missed you too, Mom. I was there next to you at the funeral, trying to hold your hand. It killed me that I was right there, and you couldn't feel me."
Tears ran down Meagan's face freely as weeks of introspection poured out.
"I'm so sorry I spent so much time in that office, always working. I wished I'd have done everything differently. I wish I would have been there for you."
"Mom, you were amazing. You are amazing. Please, don't be that way. You were there for me. I'm not going to sit here and say I don't have some regrets, but believe me, none of them have to do with you."
Mother and daughter cried, and Alex found himself choking up slightly. He took a breath and kept his composure.
"I know after Mike Hodge dumped me at that dance in ninth grade, you went over to his house and screamed at him."
Meagan finally laughed and took another sip of water. She stared down at the table, embarrassed.
"You know about that?"
"Yeah. I was horrified, at first. But you always stood up for me."
They shared another laugh before Meagan turned serious.
"Kylie, what happened that night? The police…they found you on a riverbank. They won't tell me anything, which means they don't know anything. Zoey says you two got separated at a club. Which, young lady, is very far from the studying you were supposed to be doing at her house."
"We did study, Mom, but then we went out! And I don't know. I don't remember anything. That's why I found Alex. I want to hire him to help me find out what happened."
"You want to hire Alex?"
"Sorry," Kylie said, smiling. "But it looks like even from the grave, I'm going to have to ask for money."
"This is my job, Meagan," Alex said. "I'm a paranormal investigator. I help the living, and I help the…" He hesitated. "Dead."
"And what exactly can you do?"
Kylie saved him before he was expected to run down a list of his many powers.
"Trust me," she said. "Alex is worth it. He's awesome."
Meagan eyed him up, even harder than she did previously. Leaning back, she broke physical contact for a moment, separating her from the spirit realm. Alex held out his pinky, and she took it, which was more than enough for her to see Kylie again.
"How much do you charge?"
Alex steeled himself for the difficult part that Cindy and he discussed at length.
"Seven hundred dollars a day. Plus expenses. But expenses are light, if that matters. I'm staying at a motel on the other side of town."
Meagan was quiet a moment, but it was more for show. It was an easy decision in her mind.
"Agreed, but with conditions."
"And what's that?"
"I get to see her when I want. At night, if that works better for you. I'll stop by your motel room, or you can come over here. And when everything is over, I get to have a day with her."
Alex didn't have a problem with that.
"Okay," Meagan said, smiling at her daughter. "What now?"
He pulled the folded paperwork out of his back pocket. Cindy would have been proud that he actually remembered.
"Now for the not-so-fun part."
Meagan read over the paperwork carefully, while Alex waited patiently. It was designed to protect Alex and Cindy, and Demons LLC. He went over the same details with her that he did with Kylie. All he promised was a name, not a trip to the police station. Ultimately, he was working for Kylie's piece of mind, and not for justice in the way the living knew it.
Meagan wasn't bothered by that at all. She told Alex that a name would do fine, and leave the rest to her. Her tone, her demeanor, made the hair on Alex's neck stand up.
After a teary, but hopeful goodbye, Alex and Kylie left the house while Meagan waved from the porch. Nate was waiting by the truck, and slipped through the door to take his spot in the middle. The meeting with Meagan went far better than he expected. No hysterics, no frantic calls to the police about a stranger in her home claiming to be able to talk to her deceased daughter.
He had a signed contract in his back pocket, and it was finally time to go to work.
"You holding up okay?" he asked Kylie, who was quiet.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…good to be able to talk to Mom again." She poked his shoulder. "In all my rush to get back here to search for my killer, I didn't even think about how awesome it would be to tell Mom I love her. Thank you for that."
He nodded and smiled. They circled the truck and climbed inside. He gave one final wave to Meagan as he circled the driveway and left her property.
"How did everything go?" Nate asked.
"It went great. We're in business. Kylie, this riverbank your Mom talked about, is that where you died?"
"I don't know."
"What about the alley where you woke up? Is that near the club? Can you get us back there?"
She lowered her head, embarrassed. "I…no, I don't think so. I told you. I didn't exactly take notes when I woke up. Sorry."
"It's okay. I've been thinking about this. We've got other places to start. We'll go—"
"Let's go see Zoey," Kylie said.
"I was thinking the police station. Figure out what they know. But…you're right. She's a great place to start. She's in school now though, right?"
&nbs
p; Kylie lowered her eyes. "Uh, no, she's not."
CHAPTER 9
"There," Kylie said, pointing. "The blue house, second from the end, with the Trailblazer in the driveway."
"Hmm," Nate said. He glanced at the houses around him. "This neighborhood is a little different than yours."
Kylie narrowed her eyes. "Just go ahead and say it. What word do you want to use? Poor? Struggling?"
"Hey, I wasn't going to say that. I think it's cool, actually, that you and Zoey are friends. I bet they gave you a hard time at school."
There was sadness in Kylie's voice.
"She didn't care where I came from, and I didn't care where she came from. She was my best friend. Really, my only friend. It's weird how kids can be. They made fun of both of us for where we came from, and we're the opposite. It doesn't make sense. But it pulled us together, I think."
Alex slowed the truck and parked across from Zoey's home. The house was in need of a few repairs. A shutter or two hung on by a single nail, moving slightly with the breeze. A down-spout was missing from one of the rain gutters.
"Why isn't she in school?"
Kylie sighed. "She stopped going after I was killed. I guess she could have gone back by now, but I have a feeling she didn't. That's her dad's car in the driveway. He works nights, and he's been watching her during the day. I…just want to make sure she's okay."
Alex grabbed his phone and jotted some notes, writing down everything Kylie said. He made a listing for Zoey, her age, the school she went to, her father's name, the type of car they drove, any little detail that might matter.
"Okay. Let's go."
He was halfway up the sidewalk when he realized he was alone. Turning his head, he saw Kylie and Nate standing in the middle of the street. Kylie was taking deep breaths, her eyes wide, in the middle of a panic attack. The visit with her mother went well, but the thought of seeing her old friend was too much. She leaned over and rested her hands on her knees. An old van and a car passed through the pair, and Kylie didn't even flinch. Alex took a step to approach her, ready to calm her down.
It turned out he didn't have to.
Nate was at her side, his arm around her shoulders. He was hunched over as well. He whispered quiet, encouraging words as he rubbed her back. Those words turned to jokes, and they worked, as short laughs escaped in between her strained breathing. She brushed hair away from her face, but Nate stopped her before she could adjust her glasses.
"Let me do that," he said. "I've always wanted to touch a girl's glasses."
"I'm sure that's not all you want to touch."
"Yeah, let me touch your shoes, too."
Kylie giggled and stood to her full height. Despite the age difference, Kylie was shorter than Nate. A smile crossed her face as he made a big presentation of pushing her glasses onto her nose. They laughed together, and Alex was touched at the scene.
"Are you ready?" Alex asked as they joined him.
Kylie nodded. "I think so."
"Nate—"
"I know, I know. Stay out here, right?"
"You got it."
"No," Kylie said, surprised the both of them. "Nate can come with us." She looked at him. "You'll like Zoey."
Alex shrugged. Ultimately, he didn't care, as long as the both of them were relatively quiet.
He knocked on the front door. Inside, there was the sound of someone tripping over something, followed by cursing, before the front door opened.
"That's Zoey's father," Kylie informed. "David Gallner."
The man had the look of someone who'd just woken up. Guilt poked at Alex at the thought of ruining the sleep of a man who worked the night shift. His hair was a mess, his eyes only half open. He was still in his sleep-ware, a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt with a few tiny holes.
"Damn dog," he muttered, fixing his gaze on Alex. "Yeah?"
"Morning, sir. My name is Alex Teague. I was hoping I could talk with Zoey for a few minutes. Is she home?"
David looked Alex up and down. "You don't look much like the police."
"No, sir. I'm actually a private investigator. Meagan Sinclair hired me."
David frowned and clenched his eyes shut while shaking his head. "Stop with the sir shit. The name's David. Come on in."
Alex smiled and stepped foot inside the living room. The couch still had the blanket and pillow from where David had slept. The furniture was old and torn in a few spots, but Alex liked the house.
"Don't mind the mess," he said. "And don't mind that old mutt over there. I work nights, so I sleep out here so I don't wake the wife up. But guess who sleeps with me every night on that tiny-ass couch. Old Princess over there."
"Hi, Princess!" Kylie said. She squatted and waved frantically at the collie, German shepherd mix. The beautiful dog sat on its haunches in between the living room and kitchen. "I've missed you too, girl!"
The dog stared directly at Kylie and let out a low whine. Her tail began wagging as she grew more excited. She took a step forward, but then lost sight of Kylie and stared at the ceiling.
"Dumb dog," David said. "She likes catnip, so that should tell you all you need to know."
"My first girlfriend had a dog that liked apples," Nate said. "You said have seen it. You could roll an apple on the floor, and the dog would go nuts. It would just chew and claw at the thing—"
Alex cleared his throat loudly, and Nate got the message. He apologized quietly before going silent.
David folded his blanket and set his pillow aside.
"So, a private investigator," he said, shaking his head. "I guess that doesn't surprise me. Meagan always has been a little off."
Kylie scowled at the disparaging words about her mother.
"Money will do that to you," he continued. "I liked Kylie. Very sweet, level-headed girl. She kept Zoey out of trouble."
Alex looked around for any signs of a high school senior milling about. He didn't hear any voices, didn't hear TV or music blaring from a room.
"Is Zoey here? I won't take up too much of her time."
"She is, but I don't think you'll get much out of her." His shoulders slumped and gaze fell. "She…hasn't been doing well since Kylie died."
David approached a door in the back of the living room that led downstairs. Kylie stared in confusion, glancing back and forth between the stairs and Zoey's father.
"Zoey moved downstairs?" she said aloud.
"Zoey, honey?" David called. "Someone's here to talk to you. Why don't you come up? I'll make you breakfast."
"I'm not hungry," a voice called. "Tell whoever it is to go away."
"You have to eat. Just a bowl of cereal or something."
He was answered by music. Zoey already had enough talking.
"She hasn't been out of the basement in weeks. We…we don't know what to do."
"Is it okay if I talk to her?"
"Sure. Although, as you can see, she's not in the mood to talk."
Alex slowly descended the creaky stairs, closing the door behind him. The light completely disappeared, and he stumbled once before finding the handrail. He was tempted to flip on his night vision, but decided a glowing set of eyes wouldn't be best for a grieving teenager to see.
"Uh, Zoey?"
Still only the music.
Taking each step carefully, he finally made it to the bottom. Turning the corner, there was soft glow ahead of him. He could make out a bed, sitting on the floor without a frame. Zoey lay on her back with a Nook above her head, scrolling through pages of a book.
"Damn," Nate said. "Is this a goth lair or something?"
Kylie scowled and stepped forward toward her friend.
"Oh, Zoey," she said sadly.
Zoey finally noticed her intruder and jolted upright on the bed. She turned off the MP3 player nearby, bathing the basement in silence.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"I'm Alex. I just wanted—"
"I said I didn't want to talk to anyone. Get out."
"But I'
m trying to find Kylie's murderer. Don't you want to help me do that?"
She scoffed. "You're not going to find whoever killed Kylie."
"Why do you say that?"
"It's been too long. Don't you ever watch TV? Once it goes past two days, the chances drop so low. The cops don't have a clue. They'll give up."
"Well, I won't."
Nate waved from a few feet away, not far from Zoey's bed.
"Hey. I think there's a lamp over here."
He walked in Nate's direction and felt in the darkness. His hand rolled over an end table, a hair brush, a shirt, and finally a lamp. He turned it on, illuminating slightly the area Zoey had lived the past few weeks.
The basement was partially finished with carpet, but no walls or ceiling. A door behind Zoey's bed led to a utility room, a washer and dryer. The rest was hers. There was the previously discovered bed and end table, but also a dresser with a small TV, a rack full of clothes, a laundry basket against the wall. The dresser was lined with pictures of Zoey's life. They showed a much different girl than the person laying on the bed before Alex.
The girl in the photos was smiling, laughing, goofing around. Her cheeks were flush, full. Kylie was in nearly half of them. The two friends hugged and played. In one picture, Zoey was shoving a piece of birthday cake into Kylie's face. Another showed Zoey with an ex-boyfriend, with Kylie next to them.
Zoey sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The motion almost looked unnatural. Judging from the pictures, she'd lost a lot of weight since Kylie's death. Before, she was trim, svelte, but now she seemed sickly. She crossed her legs, and Alex wasn't sure if it was the lighting in the basement, or the massive weight loss, but her legs simply looked odd. She wore shorts, and her knees were boney, her ankles like twigs. When was the last time the girl had eaten?
Even with the lamp on, it was still dark. Alex noticed black garbage bags duct-taped in place over the basement windows, blocking all light. Zoey had retreated from everything after Kylie's death. From her family, school, even from the day.
"Look, just ask your fucking questions, and get out," Zoey snapped, looking him up and down. "What are you, anyway? You don't look like a cop. You don't look like much, to be honest."
Demons LLC (Damned and Cursed Book 7) Page 17