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Authors: Donna White Glaser
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she hurried back to the condo.
Unfortunately, the rest of the day didn’t go any better. Death visions popped up everywhere she looked. Anything shiny or reflective, including liquids, served to channel the dead woman’s last moments straight into Arie’s brain.
After the first hour and a half, Arie had worked up a migraine and was sick to her stomach. She tried to play it off, but when it came time to pull up the blood-soaked carpet, she couldn’t handle it anymore and ended up running for the bathroom.
“Hey! Not there. I just sanitized that room,” Grady shouted after her.
Too late.
On her way home, Arie called Chandra and begged her friend to let her sleep over. With all that she had to wrestle, she couldn’t handle thought of going back to Grumpa’s alone.
“Of course you can,” Chandra told her. “Do you want to swing by Subway or somewhere and grab something to eat on your way?”
“Don’t even talk about food,” Arie groaned. Apparently, relentless visions from murder victims worked as an appetite suppressant. Who knew?
She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles blanched, and her eyes throbbed with the effort of concentrating on the road. Every time her gaze landed on something shiny or reflective—not a rare occurrence on a highway—the threat of a death vision vibrated inside her head. She managed to keep them at bay, but fighting them made her stomach roil. She pulled into a gas station so she could call her grandfather and let him know her plans.
As delighted as Grumpa seemed about having the house to himself, it didn’t stop him from complaining. “What am I supposed to say if your mother calls? She might want to know what you made me for supper. That’s part of the deal, isn’t it? Taking care of your poor old grandpa? I suppose that’s too much to ask nowadays.”
Arie sighed. Nice try. “Of course not, Grumpa. I can come home, and we can spend the whole evening together. Just you and me. I’ll just swing by the grocery store, so I can pick up some healthy food. You know Mother wants you on a gluten-free, low-carb diet anyway.”
“Never mind. I guess one night won’t matter. I can make a sandwich.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Arie smiled for the first time that day. Her migraine slid back a notch. “And maybe we should keep this between us. We don’t want Mother worrying over little things.”
“That’s true. And she probably doesn’t need to know about a couple other things, either.”
Arie’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really? Like what?”
“Never you mind, little girl. Never you mind.”
They hung up, and this time Arie’s grin stretched cheek to cheek. What was that cranky old man up to, anyway?
“What do you mean, they won’t stop?” Chandra looked horrified.
“I mean the visions won’t stop.”
Arie scrunched up in the yellow beanbag chair with her eyes closed. “I keep seeing them. It’s not just happening in the blood this time. They’re constant, everywhere I look.”
“What about with your eyes closed?”
“It’s okay now. But when they’re open, I can’t keep from seeing them.” Arie burst into tears.
Chandra knelt and wrapped her in a hug. “That sounds hideous. I just can’t imagine it. But, Arie, listen. We’re going to figure this out.”
Eyes still closed, Arie smiled and leaned her head on Chandra’s shoulder. Her friend smelled like cake.
They sat like that for a few minutes, and then Chandra asked, “What’s different, Arie? I mean, about this particular job.”
Arie took a deep, shuddering breath. She’d been too upset to share any of the details. Chandra scooted back to her favorite orange pillow and waited.
“I guess the big thing is it’s a murder scene.”
“Holy crap. I guess you could call that a difference.”
Arie nodded at the understatement. “You know, now that I think about it, there has been something different about each of the scenes. At the suicide’s, there was a gray fog I was
Unfortunately, the rest of the day didn’t go any better. Death visions popped up everywhere she looked. Anything shiny or reflective, including liquids, served to channel the dead woman’s last moments straight into Arie’s brain.
After the first hour and a half, Arie had worked up a migraine and was sick to her stomach. She tried to play it off, but when it came time to pull up the blood-soaked carpet, she couldn’t handle it anymore and ended up running for the bathroom.
“Hey! Not there. I just sanitized that room,” Grady shouted after her.
Too late.
On her way home, Arie called Chandra and begged her friend to let her sleep over. With all that she had to wrestle, she couldn’t handle thought of going back to Grumpa’s alone.
“Of course you can,” Chandra told her. “Do you want to swing by Subway or somewhere and grab something to eat on your way?”
“Don’t even talk about food,” Arie groaned. Apparently, relentless visions from murder victims worked as an appetite suppressant. Who knew?
She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles blanched, and her eyes throbbed with the effort of concentrating on the road. Every time her gaze landed on something shiny or reflective—not a rare occurrence on a highway—the threat of a death vision vibrated inside her head. She managed to keep them at bay, but fighting them made her stomach roil. She pulled into a gas station so she could call her grandfather and let him know her plans.
As delighted as Grumpa seemed about having the house to himself, it didn’t stop him from complaining. “What am I supposed to say if your mother calls? She might want to know what you made me for supper. That’s part of the deal, isn’t it? Taking care of your poor old grandpa? I suppose that’s too much to ask nowadays.”
Arie sighed. Nice try. “Of course not, Grumpa. I can come home, and we can spend the whole evening together. Just you and me. I’ll just swing by the grocery store, so I can pick up some healthy food. You know Mother wants you on a gluten-free, low-carb diet anyway.”
“Never mind. I guess one night won’t matter. I can make a sandwich.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Arie smiled for the first time that day. Her migraine slid back a notch. “And maybe we should keep this between us. We don’t want Mother worrying over little things.”
“That’s true. And she probably doesn’t need to know about a couple other things, either.”
Arie’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really? Like what?”
“Never you mind, little girl. Never you mind.”
They hung up, and this time Arie’s grin stretched cheek to cheek. What was that cranky old man up to, anyway?
“What do you mean, they won’t stop?” Chandra looked horrified.
“I mean the visions won’t stop.”
Arie scrunched up in the yellow beanbag chair with her eyes closed. “I keep seeing them. It’s not just happening in the blood this time. They’re constant, everywhere I look.”
“What about with your eyes closed?”
“It’s okay now. But when they’re open, I can’t keep from seeing them.” Arie burst into tears.
Chandra knelt and wrapped her in a hug. “That sounds hideous. I just can’t imagine it. But, Arie, listen. We’re going to figure this out.”
Eyes still closed, Arie smiled and leaned her head on Chandra’s shoulder. Her friend smelled like cake.
They sat like that for a few minutes, and then Chandra asked, “What’s different, Arie? I mean, about this particular job.”
Arie took a deep, shuddering breath. She’d been too upset to share any of the details. Chandra scooted back to her favorite orange pillow and waited.
“I guess the big thing is it’s a murder scene.”
“Holy crap. I guess you could call that a difference.”
Arie nodded at the understatement. “You know, now that I think about it, there has been something different about each of the scenes. At the suicide’s, there was a gray fog I was
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