Caught Dead Page 3

  "Why doesn't he just have Rocco put the peanut butter on it?" Belinda asked.

  "Rocco said he wasn't about to slather that shit all over his good beef."

  "I never see Jonah with anyone these days. Doesn't he have any friends?"

  Kerilynn shook her head before leaning in to whisper, "After the murder, he only had his grandparents. They're both dead now too. His grandma died a year ago now…. Cancer."

  "Poor guy. A person can't be alone all the time."

  "Yeah," Kerilynn said with a snort. "It can make 'em crazy."

  "What you think is odd behavior could just be trauma induced Asperger's syndrome," Belinda said. "He needs help, not ridicule or unfounded accusations."

  "Taking one college Psychology class doesn't make you Dr. Phil," Kerilynn sniped. "I've been to the school of common sense and I can tell a serial killer from a cereal box."

  After a pointed glare at Kerilynn, Belinda scribbled the total: $9.75. She then replenished his Coke before leaving the check at Jonah's booth.

  "Thanks," he said, not meeting her eyes.

  Rocco emerged from the kitchen carrying a paper bag and hurried over to Jessica. Belinda had never seen such a broad smile on his face.

  "Here you go, honey. I'll just put this on your daddy's tab. The mayor surely does have a big appetite."

  Smiling, Jessica waved. And after a dainty turn on her heel, headed out. Jonah placed some money on his table and slid out of the booth. He hurried out before the door had even drifted shut.

  When Belinda returned to take the money from the table, she found Jonah had left her a twenty-dollar tip.

  * * * * *

  Jessica Bundy hopped into her sunny yellow Mini Cooper convertible and tossed the sack containing her daddy's lunch onto the passenger seat. She flipped down the visor to reveal the vanity mirror and then reapplied a generous amount of lipstick making her Cupid's bow lips into the color of cherries.

  Maybe I should put up the top, she thought as she considered her reflection in the mirror. It wouldn't do to get too tan before the pageant. But the sun glinted off her blonde hair almost as if the strands were infused with gold particles, so she couldn't do it. Instead, she retrieved the sunscreen from her purse, squirted a generous amount into her palm.

  As she gently worked the lotion into her face a movement in the mirror caught her eye. Jonah Morrison stood on the sidewalk in front of the diner watching her, his brows furrowed and a slight frown on his lips as if she confused him.

  Jessica knew men. She could tell the instant she'd entered the diner that Jonah had a secret passion for that waitress, Belinda, not Jessica. But at the same time Jessica could tell there was something about her that called to Jonah.

  Giggling, Jessica flipped the visor back into place and then gave a little wave in his direction. "How ya doing, Jonah?"

  He just shook his head, mumbled something and then walked away.

  Jessica broke into more giggles as she started the car. The radio blared the latest Katy Perry song. After a brief glance in her rearview mirror, she revved the turbo-charged engine and pulled away from the curb.

  She sped past the patrol car strategically positioned for traffic control at the corner gas station, giving the deputy inside a friendly wave. One of the perks of being the mayor's daughter.

  She would have blown through the red light too if not for the red Corvette with Cobb county plates for the Atlanta area in the left lane. Jessica pulled up beside it on the right and glanced over. The thirty-something Brad Pitt type at the wheel shot her a sly smile. She smiled in return and ran a hand through her hair to make sure the sun had its full effect.

  I want him.

  When the streetlight turned green, Jessica peeled away, burning rubber. The Corvette edged ahead of her and Jessica floored the gas pedal. At the edge of town, just as the two lanes merged into one and turned into a twisty highway divided by double yellow lines, the Corvette passed her, its driver casting her a taunting smile. The two cars raced along the two-lane highway divided by double yellow lines and bounded on one side by dense trees and by a river on the other. When the Corvette slowed to take a sharp curve, the bumper of Jessica's mini nudged the back of the other car. Fortunately, the Corvette did not lose control, but rather veered to the small shoulder and stopped.

  Laughing, Jessica parked her Mini behind the Corvette just as its driver climbed out and leaned back against the door, arms crossed and smirking. Jessica got out and sauntered toward him. As she neared, she glanced at the Corvette's back bumper.

  "I don't see any dents," she said with a sly smile and a sidelong gaze.

  "There's a tiny scratch," the man replied, walking to the bumper and pointing to a spot on the chrome. "But I could be persuaded to forget about it."

  Oh yes, she thought. I want him. But he's gonna have to work for it.

  "I don't know..." Jessica said with a mocking pout as she took a couple of steps back. "You may be too old for me."

  "Come on. How about going for coffee," the man offered.

  “Well—”

  Before Jessica could say more, a pickup truck rounded the curve. A horn blared and brakes screeched. She had only a split second before impact to see the horrified wide-eyed glare of the driver. The grill slammed into her, sending her body flying up. Jessica smashed into the windshield and then ricocheted to the tarred road surface.

  Unable to move, speak or even breathe, Jessica’s fixed eyes gazed up at the red-faced, sweating truck driver crouched beside her. Next to him was the Corvette guy also staring down at her with frightened eyes, his hand covering his mouth.

  "I didn't see her," the truck driver shouted at the Corvette guy. "She was standing right in the roadway. Right? You'll tell the police that, right?"

  As sound and sight faded to inky blackness, the Corvette guy muttered from behind his hand. "I think she's dead."

  Chapter Two

  A cool night breeze rustled through the branches of the cemetery tree, and the glowing ornaments swayed as though dancing. Jonah took a moment to enjoy the faint smell of jasmine and the stars and the new moon standing out against the clear, bluish black sky.

  Nearby, the chimes of a church signaled fifteen minutes until midnight.

  With a shovel in one hand and a wooden box in another, Jonah wound his way around the tombstones until he reached the foot of the freshly filled grave of Derek Devoe. He set the box on the ground and glanced around him.

  He was alone.

  Putting shovel blade to ground, Jonah began digging, only stopping when he hit wood. By that time, Jonah was almost over his head in the six-foot deep hole he'd created. He tossed the shovel up to the surface and then removed a flashlight from his waistband and switched it on. He then opened the top half of the coffin's lid.

  Inside, Derek Devoe rested, eyes closed as if asleep, but even in this light his skin had an unnatural pallor the funeral home's makeup couldn't hide. They'd dressed Derek in a red tracksuit and wrapped a black ascot tie around his neck.

  Jonah stared down at Derek as he worked to push down the feeling of sadness and bleak loss that threatened to rush to the surface.

  This is the right thing to do, he assured himself.

  Holding the flashlight in his teeth, Jonah took Derek's left hand in his own and removed the class ring with a ruby stone from Derek's ring finger. He shoved the ring into the back pocket of his jeans. He then took a hunting knife from his other pocket and unsheathed it. The flashlight beam made the blade gleam. With a determined slice, Jonah cut through flesh. After struggling a bit at the bone, he succeeded in cutting off Derek's finger.

  Above the ground a movement caught the edge of Jonah's vision. Startled, he glanced up.

  Grandma. He should have known she'd come out. Except for a faint translucence, she looked the same as she had in life. And she had the same temper.

  She stood, bending at a right angle to glare down into the grave, her hands on ghostly hips. "What are you doing, Jonah?"


  He looked away. "You know."

  Grandma shook her head. "No, Jonah. Not again."

  "If you didn't want me to do it, you shouldn't have taught me how." He wrapped the ring finger in a cloth handkerchief and then climbed out of the grave. Standing beside his grandmother, he brushed the dirt from his clothes.

  "I taught you because I didn't want to leave you alone when I died. I didn't teach you so that you could collect souls like stamps."

  Jonah picked up the wooden box and opened it. Inside was an unlit blue glass ornament. After removing the ornament from the box and taking out a glass stopper in the top, Jonah then unwrapped the handkerchief and took out Derek's finger. After inserting the finger inside the ornament and re-stopping it, he placed the class ring into the box.

  "You were so isolated from everyone except me after your parents died," Grandma continued, "I thought that if I stuck around as a spirit I could keep you company and not move on until you began to interact with people again, living people."

  "I don't have time to argue with you, Grandma." This was the third night since Derek's death. If he didn't do this now it would be too late.

  "Instead you're getting more isolated, not less," she went on.

  "Are you saying you want to move on to the afterlife?" The idea shocked Jonah. He'd never thought that she might eventually want to leave him. Did she think she would join her husband and his parents in some kind of heaven? Heaven didn't even seem like a possibility to him. At best some kind of oblivion awaited.

  "No." She shook her head. "I love you, Jonah. I'm here as long as you need me."

  He gulped down a lump of emotion and nodded.

  "But that doesn't mean I approve of you bringing anyone else back."

  After one more glance at his grandmother, her face set in a disapproving frown, Jonah set to work shoveling dirt onto the coffin. Once he'd finished, he laid the ornament on top of the grave.

  Jonah knelt beside it and turned his face to the sky. "Ad captandum animum. Grab the soul."

  "Jonah, please. Don’t—”

  "Shhhh." He glanced at his watch: the hands showed 11:58 p.m. Then gazing at the grave, his voice insistent, Jonah said, "Anima Emerge. The soul must come forth."

  As the last word faded into silence, a mist seeped up from the grave, the mist swirled slowly at first and then with increasing velocity before taking on the form of Derek Devoe. A white orb pulsed in the ghost's chest. His eyes opened and his gaze darted around.

  "What's happening?" Derek asked.

  Thunder rumbled. A crack of light appeared to open in the clear night sky.

  Derek glanced up toward the light and then to Jonah.

  "This soul is bound to the earth," Jonah said hurriedly.

  The pulsing orb separated and pulled out of Derek's body. As it tore away, Derek winced in pain. "Aghhhhh. Stop. Stop."

  "This soul shall not seek the light. Alligaverit anima ad hoc vas. This soul is bound to this vessel."

  The orb flew from Derek and moved toward the glass ornament Jonah had placed on the grave. After the orb entered the ornament, Jonah jumped up, grabbed the ornament and put in the stopper.

  Derek's ghostly body once again turned to a swirling mist. The mist then streamed into the class ring inside the wood box. Once the mist was fully enclosed inside, Jonah slammed down the box's lid.

  Taking the box and the now glowing ornament with him, Jonah walked to the back of the cottage where a workbench was set up. His grandmother's ghost followed.

  "You already have enough, Jonah."

  "But I want him. He was my friend. I can talk to him."

  "Then get rid of another one," Grandma said. "One in, one out."

  Using a propane tank and torch, Jonah melted glass to the top of the ornament, sealing in the stopper. While he worked he considered what his grandmother had said. She just didn't understand.

  "They're all better off here with me," he finally said.

  He walked past her to the cemetery and fastened the ornament to a low-hanging branch with a sturdy piece of wire. He stepped back to admire the tree. His grandmother appeared beside him.

  "Is that really why? Really?" Grandma asked.

  "Yes."

  "Jonah—"

  "Okay, okay." He held up his hands in surrender. "I'll get rid of old man Sullivan. I know you never liked him even though he's been like a grandfather to me."

  "He's not your grandfather," she said with a snort. "When will you do it?"

  Jonah considered in silence for a moment and then replied, "Tomorrow night."

  * * * * *

  The breakfast rush at the diner had wound down and now only one booth was occupied. At the height of the crowd, the place buzzed with news before it could hit the local paper: Jessica Bundy was dead.

  Belinda refilled the water glasses for a couple who'd been lounging for two hours holding hands across the table. Walking back to the counter, she sighed and stretched her neck, just now noticing how tightly wound her muscles were.

  Kerilynn took a payment from a customer at the register and then joined her at the counter.

  "I can't believe that sweet, pretty girl is gone." Kerilynn shook her head. "Just like a bug squashed on a windshield."

  "Literally," Belinda replied automatically and then gasped, horrified at herself. "Oh my gosh. I sound so insensitive. I didn't know Jessica, but she seemed very nice."

  "She was.” Kerilynn wiped away a tear. "First Derek and now Jessica. Two in one week."

  "But Derek was different. He was murdered," Belinda pointed out.

  "Yeah. That seems to happen a lot around here."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This is the third set of serial killings I can remember since I was knee high to a rooster."

  Do roosters have knees? Belinda wondered.

  "There were those eight college coeds six years ago..." Kerilynn began. "And Jonah's parents... Shit! I just realized something." Kerilynn's eyes widened.

  "What is it?"

  "Weird coincidences. The neighbor who slaughtered Jonah's parents was shot to death when he attacked someone else, remember?"

  "Not really," Belinda said. "We moved away right after the crime."

  "It was Mayor Bundy who killed the guy with his family gun. That's how he got elected the first time...law and order platform and all that."

  Belinda narrowed her eyes in confusion. "How did it happen?"

  "The shooting?" Kerilynn asked and Belinda nodded. "The murderer broke into the Bundy house and grabbed Jessica. Mr. Bundy heard the commotion and interrupted the attack. Jessica was saved from a murderer just to be killed in a senseless car accident."

  "Poor girl," Belinda muttered. "But I don't think I see much of a coincidence there."

  "Maybe it just seems like it to me because the murders have started up again now."

  "My dad thought this town would have less crime than Atlanta. That's why he was okay with me moving back here to commute to UGA. That and the fact my aunt still lives here."

  "You gotta get yourself some protection, girl," Kerilynn said.

  "You mean a gun?" Belinda asked.

  "Hell no!"

  At Kerilynn's cry, the couple in the booth glanced their way, startled. But they quickly turned back to one another.

  Kerilynn lowered her voice. "No guns. You can shoot yourself with a gun quicker than you can say Smith and Wesson. I rely on Louie.

  After reaching under the counter, Kerilynn pulled out a large Louis Vuitton knockoff purse and thrust it into Belinda hands. "Feel that."

  Belinda's knees almost buckled. "My God. What have you got in here?"

  "Rolls of quarters. Enough to take down any raving lunatic. And I don't have to worry if the safety is on."

  Belinda handed the purse back to its owner. "I don't think I could hurt anyone, even with a purse. Just thinking about the sight of blood makes me dizzy. I get sick at the sight of blood. I mean violently ill.”

  "You'd change your mind if some whack
job was after you." Kerilynn stowed the purse back under the counter just as Jonah entered the diner. Kerilynn inclined her head toward him. "Speak of the whack job and the devil appears in sheep's clothing."

  Belinda shot a glare at Kerilynn and hurried to the booth just as Jonah sat down. "Hi, Jonah."

  He buried his head in the menu and shrugged.

  "Before I take your order, I just wanted to say I really appreciated the tip you left yesterday," Belinda continued.

  "I'll have a burger and umm..."

  "The usual?"

  Jonah nodded.

  Belinda scribbled on an order ticket and then glanced back at Jonah. "You know, I just moved back to town. It would be nice to have someone show me around. See the sights, ya know?"

  Jonah squirmed and shrugged, his gaze downcast and his hair over his face. All his body language rejected her suggestion, but Belinda wouldn't be deterred. "What about if you and I—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Jonah jumped up and out of the booth. He rushed to the door as he said over his shoulder, "Sorry... Just remembered...gotta go."

  He pushed his way out of the door. Through the diner's windows, Belinda saw him jam his hands into his pockets and walk determinedly in the direction of the cemetery.

  Kerilynn put a hand on Belinda's shoulder. "Let him go. He's not some stray you can save."

  “But—”

  "No but anything," Kerilynn said. " Stick to trying to save that feral cat. You risk more than a few scratches with that guy."

  * * * * *

  The sun beat down on his bare back and the sweat ran down his chest to dampen the waistband of Jonah's jeans as he worked. But the physical labor that usually comforted him did nothing for his mood today.

  Idiot, he berated himself. You're a cowardly idiot. A rude, cowardly idiot.

  Clearing out the clump of weeds that had seemingly grown up overnight in Section C, near the front gate, was enough to distract him from replaying the scene over and over in his mind.

  He'd been gawking up at her, fascinated by the delicate curve of her pink lips and enjoying the gleaming happiness in her brown eyes when suddenly she'd started talking about going on a date. But he'd known right away that must be wrong. She just wanted someone to show her around Ambrosia and point out the changes. But how could that someone be him when he couldn't even bring himself to stutter out an entire sentence in her presence?