Spooked

Chapter 1 - Kimberly

CHAPTER 1 - KIMBERLY

MY DATE WAS going well until the dead girl in the back seat started talking to me.

At least, I thought it was going well. And I thought it was a date. The guy sitting beside me at the wheel had taken on an ethereal quality, hazy, floating in and out of my field of vision like smoke on the breeze.

How much time had passed since dinner? We had eaten dinner, hadn’t we? I recalled a bowl of pretzels, wine, candles… But I’d gone beyond feeling full and straight to sick. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, do not puke in the nice man’s car.

He smiled at me, white teeth shining eerily in the darkness, and I tried to smile back but my face had stopped working. None of my limbs felt as if they were attached to my body either. What was wrong with me?

“Are you okay, Kimberly?”

His voice echoed around the car, words coming at me in stereo. How did he know my name? Had I told him my name? What was his name? Was he a cab driver?

“Who are you?”

“We’re friends, remember?”

No, I didn’t remember, not really.

“Where…” The words stuck in my throat. “Where are we going?”

“Home, Kimberly. I’m taking you home.”

Ah, home. Home would be good. I could put on my new pyjamas, the ones with the cats on them that Annie gave me for my birthday. My birthday… Candles, lots of candles… Cake… How old was I?

“You need to get out.”

Boy, the man’s voice had gotten really high pitched. Feminine.

“You need to get out now.”

Wait a second. Or a minute. Who knew how time worked anymore? The voice was coming from behind, not beside me, and I tried to twist around. A glimpse of pale white skin, a flash of shiny brown hair, that weird, translucent shimmer people got after they died.

Shoot. There was a ghost in the back seat. A ghost! The bane of my freaking existence.

“Just get out of the damn car!”

Was she crazy as well as dead?

“The car’s moving,” I mumbled.

The man rested a hand on my thigh. “Of course it’s moving. I’m taking you home, remember?”

Don’t talk to ghosts in front of people, Kimmy. My mom’s words echoed in my head, and I cursed myself silently. Don’t swear out loud—that had been another of her rules.

“Hey, hey!” the girl shouted. “Don’t fall asleep on me. My name’s Georgette, and I died in this car—don’t let it happen to you too.”

Georgette. My mom used to have a friend called Georgette, but that was before Mom got taken away. Locked up for being crazy, although nobody ever said those exact words. Don’t let it happen to you too.

Was I crazy? I sure felt as if I’d lost my mind. Fuzziness clouded my thoughts, and darkness nibbled at the edges.

“He killed me,” Georgette said. “The man you’re with killed me. He drugged me just like he’s drugged you.”

Drugs? I didn’t take drugs. Except for that funny cigarette I smoked in high school with… What was her name? Blonde… Always carried a Twinkie in her purse… No, it was gone. But hold on, Georgette said the man drugged me. Could he have done that?

“What…should…I…do?” I slurred, every word an effort.

His hand squeezed my leg. “Just sit back and relax. I’ll put you to bed.”

“Did he even ask your address?” Georgette asked. “Did he?”

Did he, did he, did he? Everything before the car was a blur. What was my address? I had a nice house, ranch-style, painted cream on a good-sized lot. No pets unless you counted the orioles that hung out at my bird feeder in spring.

“My name is Georgette Riley, and I was twenty-four years old when I died. Remember that, because you need to solve my murder.”

No. No way. I didn’t do crime solving. I organised weddings and the occasional party. Never for teenagers because those always ended in disaster, but anniversaries, corporate functions, even the occasional bach…bachelette…bachor… Strippers. Those.

“No no no.”

“Honestly,” the man said. “Taking you home is no trouble.”

“Look, Kimberly—that’s your name, isn’t it? You need to kill this asshole to set me free, and right now, the only thing you’re capable of killing is your own liver. So I’m gonna help you escape, and then you’re gonna hunt him down.”

That sounded good. The escape part, not the hunting. And I hated liver.

“Nod once if you can hear me.”

My head didn’t want to cooperate, but I managed to move it a little.

Georgette sounded shrill, her voice a mixture of desperation and excitement, and I knew why. Meeting me was a one in two billion chance, quite literally. Almost eight billion people in the world, but only four Electi, if you could even count me among them seeing as I didn’t carry out any of my duties. My appearance had given her hope.

“Okay, he’s locked the doors, but the button to unlock them is on the centre console. Move your left hand. More. More. Got it.”

My eyes began closing all of their own accord, but I felt the smooth plastic of the button under my fingertips. A lifeline.

“Now, slide your other hand over and get ready to unbuckle the seat belt.”

This plan made no sense. Georgette expected me to jump from a moving vehicle? I’d die anyway. Then the man rubbed my leg with his thumb, and a shiver ran through me. It felt…wrong. So wrong.

“Not long now, darling,” he said.

Darling? Darling? Daddy always called Mom darling, and then he sent her away. For a rest, he said, but she’d never left the Spring Grove Treatment Center in the whole time before she died. And I didn’t want to live in that place. It smelled funky, and the nurses always spoke in this weird whisper that sounded like the wind in the trees.

No, I couldn’t stay with this man.

“There’s a traffic light coming up, and it’s just turned red,” Georgette told me. “You’ll have about five seconds to get out. Ready?”

I was anything but ready, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Go!”

Some primal instinct must have taken over, because suddenly I was on the grass verge, looking through the open car door at the man’s angry face. For a second, I thought he might come after me, but then the car behind honked its horn and he reached over, slammed the door shut, and roared off, quickly followed by Mr. Impatient.

Alone at the side of the road, I gave in to temptation and closed my eyes as a light drizzle dampened my face. The ground felt soft. Squishy. Kind of cold, but that was okay.

Finally, I could take a nap.