"You idiot,” Carl said, yanking Sadie up by her arm. Pushing her back toward the van's door, he put his mouth near her ear. “Get back in that van before I arrest you for causing a riot."
"Riot?” Sadie looked back over her shoulder as Carl squeezed her arm. “Seems to me everyone's avoiding you, not me. I'm a harmless old woman.” She massaged the pain in her arm caused by Carl's grip. “I hope this turns black and blue so I can show my attorney what you did to me."
Carl's gaze zeroed in on the reddened area. “That's nothing compared to what you'll feel the day I escort you off my property after the judge rules in my favor."
"That will never happen.” Sadie sat behind the steering wheel and glared at Carl. “You can make up all the lies you want about your grandfather, but you'll never get my land. Isn't it enough you got his money when your father died?"
"Not nearly enough,” Carl spat. “Have you decided on a nursing home yet? You're going to have to go somewhere when I escort you off my property. Think of the fun you'll have playing Bingo while you piss in your pants. That should give you something to look forward to.” Pushing further into the van he added, “Come to think of it, I'm going to have to evict old man Bakke, too. I hear you don't charge him rent. I'm not going to give him a free ride."
"I'm not worried. Judge Kimmer will rule in our favor."
Spittle flew as a hearty laugh burst from Carl's lips. “You really are stupid, aren't you? You're not one of Kimmer's favorite people."
"Then I'll ask for another judge."
"Won't help. The only other judge is retiring next week and the court calendar is full until Thanksgiving. Too bad."
Sadie pulled on the door lever and the panels closed against Carl's body.
Carl stopped the closure with his elbow and pried the door open. “My grandfather wanted me to have the resort. Your mother got him to sign over the deed by using sex. Everyone knows that. They also know that after granddad died, your mother ran the resort as a whore house."
"That's a lie, Carl Swanson. She did no such thing."
Carl interrupted. “For all I know, you're doing the same thing. But that will end soon.” Releasing his grip, Carl added, “Be sure to take your imaginary friends with you when you go. I don't want people thinking I'm crazy, too."
Sadie tapped the face of her watch. “You just wasted twenty minutes of our tax payer's time. If you'd put that much effort into proving the Fossums were murdered, you might get someone to vote for you."
Carl stopped mid stride. “What did you say?"
"Lon thinks it wasn't an accident."
"Lon better keep his mouth shut. And so should you if you know what's good for you."
9
"Don't come any closer.” The whispered warning was barely audible. Aanders hugged the counter and stared at the image. Through eyes glazed with fear, Aanders looked from the body lying on the embalming table to the pale image coming toward him. “I said stay there."
Tim moved closer to the embalming table, but hesitated when Aanders turned in withdrawal. “Please don't leave.” He reached for his friend. “Please stay with me."
Unable to grasp the situation, Aanders blurted, “This can't be real. You can't be talking to me if you're dead.” He squinted to bring the image into focus. “Are you dead or not?” The last word rose to a high pitch as Aanders saw Tim step closer.
"Yes,” Tim cried dropping to his knees. The twelve-year-old rocked in place, sobs pulsing through his body. “I'm dead and I didn't go through the light with Mom and Dad."
"What?” Aanders bent down to look under the table toward Tim.
"I'm dead. I died in the car with Mom and Dad. We were murdered."
"Murdered? You weren't murdered. It was an accident.” Aanders pointed toward the heavy steel door. “Your mom and dad are over there in cold storage. But what do you mean you didn't go through the light?"
"I was held back.” Tim hugged his arms to his chest and looked up at his friend. “I need to find a way to go back through the light so I can be with Mom and Dad."
Aanders looked back at his friend's body on the embalming table and then at Tim crouched on the floor. “This can't be real. Wait till I tell Mom."
Sniffling, Tim scooted over to the wall. “You're not going to believe any of this, but boy do I have a lot to tell you. It's just like one of them scary movies."
Aanders backed away from Tim.
"Don't be afraid,” Tim said. “Even though I'm dead, I'm still your best friend. Nothing bad will happen if you still like me."
Scowling, Aanders drew closer to Tim. He made sure he left a four-foot span between them.
Tim held his arm out. “Touch me."
"No way.” Aanders leaned away from the outstretched hand. “I'm not going to touch a dead person who's talking to me."
"Why not? It's no different than those bodies your mom prepped last week. It'll feel just like that.” Tim lunged forward and placed his hand on Aanders bare arm.
Aanders jerked his arm away. “Don't do that. Your hand's as cold as snow.” Looking from Tim to the body on the embalming table, he said, “Quit scaring me.” Aanders squared his shoulders. “I don't have to stay here and be your friend if I don't want to. I might take Belly upstairs and watch TV."
"Please don't go,” Tim said. “I wanted you to touch me so you'd believe what I have to tell you."
Aanders appeared to look straight ahead into the darkness, but scrutinized his friend's every move out of the corner of his eye. He slowly unfolded his fists and inched his fingers across the span. He stopped when his finger butted up against Tim's hand. Mustering the courage to continue, he placed his hand on top of Tim's hand. “Wow. You feel just like that old man that got his leg caught under the mower and died in his yard. Remember that?” Aanders rubbed his index finger on the back of Tim's arm. “Mom says a dead person's skin is clammy. You're clammy, all right."
Tim felt Aanders’ arm and then his own. “You're right. I am."
Aanders settled back against the wall, this time closer to his friend. “I guess that means you're dead."
"I already told you that.” Tim watched Belly plop down between them and roll onto his side with a muffled grunt. He kneaded his fingers through Belly's coarse hair as he drifted off in thought.
Aanders hugged his knees to his chest and took advantage of the reprieve to contemplate this new revelation.
"The stuff I'm going to tell you will freak you out.” Tim rose to his knees and faced his friend. “It's freaky that I'm dead and at the same time I'm talking to you. But what's freakier is you can see me. You don't realize what that means.” Bouncing on his knees toward his friend, Tim added, “Man, are you in for a shock."
"You already said that. Nothing can shock more than a dead person talking to me. So what's the big deal?"
"Don't you think it's weird you're talking to a dead person?"
"Yaaahhh.” Aanders rolled his eyes. Tim was his best friend, but he had a way of going on and on without ever getting to the point. “It's weird all right.” His gaze shot toward his friend as he gasped, “Don't tell me I'm dead, too!"
"I never thought of that,” Tim said. He took Aanders hand and ran his fingers over it. “Nope. You're not dead. Your hand is warm."
Belly snorted to remind the boys he was in attendance. He rolled onto his back. His left leg twitched as he wriggled back and forth, trying to find a comfortable spot on the tile floor.