Free Dead and Breakfast by Kimberly G. Giarratano Page B

fire.
    “I can’t take you anymore,” he screamed at her.
    Autumn shrank back and laughed.
    Leo’s eyes widened. He raised his hands as if to strike, and then blackness.
    Autumn felt lighter. The spirit had lifted and was gone. Her vision cleared and she was back in her bathroom.
    “Dammit!” Autumn cried.
    She heard a pounding on the door. Her mother. “Are you almost done in there?”
    “Just a minute,” she called back.
    Autumn stepped into the hot shower and let the water wash away her sweat and grime. The ghost told her what she wanted to know, but she couldn’t shake her uneasiness. Inez didn’t seem exactly trustworthy. Autumn needed proof. Proof that Leo was in fact Inez’s killer, or proof that he wasn’t. Either way, she needed Liam’s help.
    #
    Liam cradled the dead bird in the shovel and carried it to the far corner of the yard where the Cayo’s back fence butted up against the neighbor’s property. A large banyan tree pushed against the fence, and its roots protruded from the earth. The trunk reminded Liam of a sea monster rising from the ocean, unfurling its tentacles. The tree must’ve been a hundred years old, at least.
    The Marlberry grew underneath the Banyan tree, the shade providing just the right amount of darkness for the shrub’s bright green leaves and pink flowers. It was a pretty, albeit neglected garden. Just the right place to bury a dead animal. No one came back there.
    Liam spotted a gap in the tree roots and considered it a fitting place to bury the bird. He dug a small hole in between the roots and scooped out the dirt, forming a pile of earth. He wouldn’t need to dig deep—the bird was barely the size of his palm.
    Using the tip of the shovel, he nudged the bird into the tiny hole and then went to pile on the dirt. But something stopped him. Liam crouched and examined the dirt mound. He poked at it with his finger and uncovered a round brass pin, roughly the size of a quarter. Liam brushed off the loose dirt and held it up, hoping to read the inscription in the fading afternoon light. He could barely make out the name. St. Veronica’s School for Girls.
    The pin seemed familiar, but Liam couldn’t remember why. He slipped it into his pocket, and covered the dead bird with dirt.
    After he and Randall got their business off the ground, Liam swore he would not think about dead things, animals or people, for a long, long time.
    #
    Shortly before dinner, Autumn sat on her bed, a history textbook lay in her lap. Timothy knocked on Autumn’s bedroom door.
    “What’s up?” she asked Timothy, who was dressed in a gray suit vest with a light blue shirt underneath. No bowtie. “Gotta date?”
    “I have study group tonight.”
    “Cyrus?” Autumn wagged her brows.
    A smile crept up on Timothy’s face. “Maybe. Not that it’s any of your business.” Timothy leaned against the doorframe and softened his stance. “Listen, I know you think I’m all beauty and no brains—”
    Autumn laughed.
    Timothy narrowed his eyes. “But I’m telling you something important. You cannot keep channeling that ghost. She’ll kill you.”
    Autumn rose and went over to the sputtering air-conditioning unit. She smacked the metal box until it roared back to life. “You’re being dramatic. The ghost only wants my help.”
    “Something tells me she doesn’t.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Timothy scratched his cheek. “This spirit seems pretty bitchy. And not bitchy like Katie either, but more mean-spirited.” He laughed. “No pun intended.”
    Autumn whipped around. “She deserves justice, doesn’t she?”
    “Who are you kidding?” Timothy couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice. “That’s not what you’re doing. You’re exploiting her to get a college scholarship.”
    “I’m not! She’s confused and unstable, and she’s likely to hurt Liam. Not me.”
    “Channeling a ghost is risky. You do it too often, she’ll take over your soul. You won’t be Autumn