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"I guess so. He was pretty p.i.s.sed though. I guess Connor's parents convinced him it was out of grief or something?"
"That doesn't make any sense at all," I said. "Why would Connor paint a picture of Charlotte on her uncle's wall? A picture like that." I thought of the black wings spreading across the bricks. Angel of death. What was going on in his head and what in the world was she feeding him?
"Wait, you knew that was a painting of Charlotte," Ava asked.
"I knew."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I felt like an idiot. My stupid boyfriend got busted for painting huge, creepy murals of a dead, possible ex-girlfriend on walls. Not great for my self-esteem."
Ava and I shared the same lounge chair and she wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "I'm sorry, hon."
"Whatever. This just makes it all the more weird. Not only did he risk getting arrested, he was obviously trying to make some kind of point."
"But what kind?" Julia asked.
"I wish I knew."
Julia sat up and flipped her sungla.s.ses back. "Connor won't tell you what's going on and Charlotte is dead, right?"
"Right."
"What we need is a source close to one of them. Someone who can tell us what was going on before she died. Connor was normal before then, so, really, that leaves Charlotte."
"What are you trying to get at, Julia?" Ava asked.
"I think I know who we can talk to." She hopped up and started gathering her things. "Come on, let's go to my house."
I shared a look with Ava and stood up. "All right. Let's go."
Julia's mom was in the middle of some kind of luncheon when we arrived, sweaty and hot from the pool. Luncheon, I learned, was the Southern way of saying lunch.
"Help yourself, dear," she said, hovering over us the minute we walked in the door. The women were all out on the patio eating their tiny sandwiches and drinking large gla.s.ses of tea. Her mom scurried back to her guests and left us at the kitchen table.
"That's Charlotte's aunt in the blue dress," Julia said.
Ava and I both peered at the group of women outside. "How are we going to get near her?"
"I'll figure it out, just eat and play it cool."
I helped myself to a serving of salad and fruit and a huge piece of chocolate cake. Ava did the same, and we were halfway through eating when Mrs. Brady walked into the kitchen. Julia shot us both a look and stepped toward the woman. "Here, let me take that," she said, reaching out for the empty plate Mrs. Brady carried.
"Oh, thank you, sweetie," she said, giving Julia a bright smile. "You girls having a good summer?"
"Yes, ma'am," Ava said, while I nodded.
"Mrs. Brady," Julia said, "We heard about your niece. It's really sad."
The woman's face crumbled a little and she nodded sadly. "It's been hard on all of us. Charlotte was a sweet girl."
The three of us attempted not to make eye contact on that outright lie. "I can only imagine," Julia agreed. "The three of us are considering doing a project on teen suicide you know, something we can present at youth group. I thought maybe we could turn this terrible situation into a blessing for someone who needed help."
I took a step back from Julia, afraid lightning may strike her at any moment.
"That sounds wonderful," Mrs. Brady said.
"Is there any information you could give us that would be helpful? I know Charlotte had a lot of problems."
Mrs. Brady considered it for a moment and then said, "Charlotte struggled with many things. Although her family loved her very much, it was a constant battle over curfew and money and drugs."
"Did the hospital help?" Julia pushed. "I mean, I heard she spent some time there."
"Some. At least there her parents were able to get a real diagnosis."
"Was she depressed?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"Not exactly. The doctors said she had some kind of antisocial personality disorder. They were working very hard to help her make better choices." She frowned and added, "Please don't tell anyone I said that."
"Of course not," Ava a.s.sured her.
"So this disorder," Julia asked. "it made her make these decisions? All the trouble? The suicidal thoughts?"
"From what I understand, yes. I guess she had a hard time relating to other people and keeping friends. She and my husband had a very strained relationship. When she was little they were very close, but in recent years it was difficult to be around her." Mrs. Brady looked to the back porch and saw the other women waving her outside. "I guess I should join the meeting," she said. "I hope that helped."
Julia smiled. "That was very helpful. I'm sure our youth minister will be excited about us reaching out to others with the same problems."
Mrs. Brady walked off and Ava punched Julia in the arm. "What the h.e.l.l," Julia whispered.
"Youth group? Are you kidding me?"
"I told you I would get the information. You never said I had to be honest to do it."
I shook my head. "Well, thanks, I guess. I'm not sure how much that helps, but it does sound like she had a lot of problems. Maybe that's why Connor feels so tied to her?"
"Maybe," Julia said, reaching for another piece of cake. "Or maybe he's just hung up on her. You never know with guys."
I narrowed my eyes at Julia. I was tired of the accusations. Ava must have noticed because she tugged on my arm and said, "I really should get home. You ready?"
"Yeah, I'm ready," I told her. I smoothed the hostility from my face and looked at Julia. "Thanks for the help."
"Good luck with Connor."
"Thanks," I said again. Julia meant well but little did she know Connor was the least of my problems at the moment.
An hour later, Ava and I sat across from one another in a booth at Dusty's pizza.
"What do you think?" she asked, cutting her pizza into little squares.
"I think I don't know what to think." I focused on my pizza and not her question.
"Tell me the truth."
"That is the truth, I have no idea what is going on here. Everything sounds crazy."
"No," she said. "Tell me the truth. About everything. I know there is more going on here than just Connor being hung up over some dead girl. Tell me."
"I guess he's just upset."
Her hand rested on mine. "Jane, tell me what's going on between you two. Don't think I haven't noticed. I was there the day that guy followed us, the one who almost killed you. I know you two are into something deeper than just a standard romance."
I bit my lip and fought the tears building in the corners of my eyes. "I can't," I said, shaking my head.
"Yes, you can. Whatever it is can't be that bad. And I swear I won't tell anyone." She was so genuine. So serious. "I promise."
"You can't promise that. And it's not that I don't trust you," I said. "I just don't want to lose you as a friend. You're really the only one I have and I can't bear the thought of losing you, too."
"I'm not going anywhere, Jane. It would have to be pretty big to scare me off."
"It's big," I confessed. "And weird."
She sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I'm ready when you are."
I picked up my fork and started removing the cheese from the crust. "Remember last year, right after I moved here, I kind of had that freak out in school?"
"Vaguely. I heard the rumors."
"Well, I had a freak out in school because, when we bought the house, the first person I met was this kid named Evan."
"Oh, the guy from the shelter, right? The one you and Connor used to talk about?"
I sawed into the crust until it made a sc.r.a.ping sound on the metal plate. "Yeah, that's him. He was great. And my best friend."
"How come I never met him?"
"That's the thing. Connor and I were the only ones who knew him." I took a breath. "We were the only ones who could see him."
Ava's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Evan was dead."
"Evan is dead, you mean."
"No, Evan was dead. When I met him." I sneaked a glance at Ava, but she hadn't run away yet. "Same with Connor. He saw him, too."
"What are you saying? You saw a ghost?"
"Yep."
"And you and Connor, the most troubled, hottest boy in school, bonded over this."
I nodded. "Pretty much."
"Evan is who you were talking to in school? When it seemed like you were talking to yourself? Is that what happened in that fire?"
"Yes, that's who I was talking to. And I was trying to help him and his family when the whole fire thing happened."
"You see and can talk to ghosts?" Her eyes got big and she looked around. "OhmyG.o.d, are there ghosts here now?"
"No, there aren't any here that I can see." I scanned the room. "At the moment."
"You and Connor see dead people like that creepy kid in that movie 'The Sixth Sense?'"
"Kind of, yeah."
Ava stared at me for a minute and then said, "That is really cool."
"What?"
"I mean, dead people? Are they scary or do they do weird things? And Connor? I mean, this explains so much about him. No wonder he went mental," she said. "Sorry, I mean..."
"No, it's true. That is why he went to the hospital. And why he's stressing out right now. Charlotte is working her mojo on both of us."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Right! See now everything makes more sense! Charlotte was into him, obviously, and now she's haunting him, but why the mural? And why is she bugging you?"
"Because she's psycho," I said without a trace of humor. "She wants Connor or something and I think she's determined to get me out of the picture one way or the other."
"One way or the other? What does that mean?"
"It means what you think it means."
"She wants to kill you? She's a ghost, she can't do that." Her eyes are bugged. "Right?"
"Yeah, that's where everything gets tricky," I sighed. Explaining this was really complicated.
Ava must have sensed my irritation and said, "I think we need to do two things."
I frown. "What?"
"One: I need one of those giant, homemade, warm chocolate chip cookies they make here with fresh whipped cream."
"Okay, and the other one?"
"I need you to start from the beginning."