Chapter Nineteen
“Spying - secretly keeps watch on another or others.”
Dex
The one good thing about never having a phone was that it could never ring and wake me up. When my iPhone wouldn’t stop making noise, I dragged myself out of bed to answer it.
“What?” I demanded.
“Morning sunshine,” said a vaguely familiar voice.
I was still half asleep and I didn’t feel like trying to figure out who it was. “Who is this?” I demanded.
“Storm.”
“How’d you get this number?” I said, falling back into the bed face first.
“I’m a Ghost Escort. Finding things out is what I do.”
“I thought spying on people is what you do,” I said, rolling over and pulling the covers up to block out the morning cold.
“Well, my spying saved your ass.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I took care of the problem you had with the Target.”
“What did you do?” I said, sitting up and throwing off the covers. My fingers tightened around the phone and my palms became slick with sweat. I sat there frozen while images of Piper lying dead inside her apartment tormented my brain.
“I fixed it up so the hospital found your body. They called her and told her it was all a mix-up.”
“Oh. How did you pull that off?” I asked, relief turning my spine to jelly as I slumped backwards into the headboard.
“Don’t sound too grateful.” Storm snorted.
“Tell me what you want for this favor; then I’ll decide if I’m grateful.” People don’t do things just to help out other people.
“I don’t want anything other than for you to finish this job so we can go chill on a beach somewhere.”
A beach.
His words brought to mind the perfect image of the faded card I used to carry in my pocket.
I snatched it years ago from some store.
I never took things I couldn’t use (like clothes), eat, or trade for money or other stuff I wanted.
But this… this was different. It had been one of the coldest days of the year that day.
The ice was inches thick on the sidewalks and the snow banks were so high I thought they would never melt.
It was impossible to stay warm no matter how many blankets I stole, where I huddled, or how much coffee I drank.
Then I saw the image of the crystal-clear water, the sun, and the warm, welcoming sand, and I knew that was the place I wanted to be.
That was the place I was going to leave this arctic prison for.
And once I got there, I would never leave.
I took the little card and slid it into my jacket, and all winter long I would look at it every day and plan how I’d get there. Some day, I used to tell myself. Some day I’ll make it there.
I never did.
And now Piper had my card.
I told myself I didn’t need that card anymore. Now I had the money and resources to go to that place in the flesh. Maybe I’d buy a house and live there. Maybe I’d never come back to this frozen berg again.
“Dex, you still there?” Storm asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” I replied, shaking away the memory.
“Now that she isn’t too suspicious about you being a body stealer, I figured it’d be easier for you to get closer to her.”
“Why was she so suspicious of me in the first place?” I wondered out loud.
“I can’t tell you all her secrets!” Storm laughed.
“I don’t want to know them. I don’t care where she hides the key to her diary or what color her underwear are.”
Storm laughed again. “You so want to know what color they are.”
I grinned. Maybe I did.
“Well, duty calls. She’s up and moving around.”
“Hey, ah, how does she look this morning?”
“Alive and kicking,” Storm answered.
“She doesn’t look like she’s still beat up from last night?”
“Are you worried about her?” Storm practically accused me.
“No. I just want to know if she’s weak—you know, to take advantage.”
“Ahhh, I got ya. She looks pretty normal to me. You might want to get a plan. Then get a back-up plan.”
“Right. I’m working on it.” I agreed; then we both hung up.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and saved his number to my contacts in case I needed it again.
Vaguely I wondered where he kept a phone if he didn’t have any pockets…
or a body to put pants on. Then I wondered how he even dialed the phone.
Too many questions this early in the morning.
I tossed the phone off to the side and collapsed back onto the pillows. My mind drifted back to the little card with the picture of the beach and the way it looked tucked into the frame of her mirror. It seemed important to her. She put it out where she’d see it every day.
And then there were the flowers.
She bought him—me—flowers and sat them near the card as her own personal memorial.
I never once thought anyone would miss me if I died.
I kind of liked that someone did. It meant I was more than a drifter, more than just another bum on the street.
It meant someone out there thought I was worth caring about.
Really, I wasn’t.
I told myself if she knew the real me, the me that was trying to murder her, she’d throw away those flowers and that picture real fast. But she didn’t know. And she still had the picture and the daisies.
But I was still me.