Page 7 of Going Rogue


  “Well that vision got you the murder weapon,” I snap, and give him a dirty look. “And the cell phone he used to call it in. Isn’t that enough to show my story is true?”

  “I’m done with this conversation,” he says, in a tone that says he’s serious. “Go inside, Alexa, and stay put.”

  “If you’re not going to help me,” I say, and stall, not entirely sure where I’m going with this. When I continue, I surprise even myself with what comes out. “I’ll go door to door in that building until I find the psycho myself.”

  Cameron stares at me for a moment and shakes his head. “You are unbelievably clueless.”

  My head jerks at his statement, and I blink. “I’m sorry?”

  “Alexa...” he stalls for a beat, letting out a sigh. “I can’t do my job when I’ve got you following me around, looking the way you do, giving me attitude the way you do. You’re a fucking distraction.”

  A thrill races through my belly. I’m not sure I like it. “Oh.”

  “I need you safe at home so I can catch this guy,” he says, his voice softening. “If I’m worried about you, I can’t focus on finding something that will let me get a search warrant.”

  “But—”

  “No, Alexa,” he says, cutting me off. “No buts. Go inside and stay there. If you don’t stay there, I’ll cuff you and take you in.”

  I snort. “For what?”

  He eyes me, apparently torn between wanting me to go inside, and not wanting to let me out of his site.

  “I’ll find a reason,” he says and smiles. “Trust me.”

  I glare at him. “This is very unfair.”

  I wish I could be a little more tactful about being sent home, but I’m not. I swing the door open, and climb out, slamming it shut. I know, I know, I’m acting like an immature teen, but he’s acting like a dick.

  Okay, maybe not a dick exactly, but still... He wouldn’t have any evidence at all if it weren’t for me.

  Holy crap, catching a criminal is way harder than I thought.

  Levi is chuckling, but he seems to have the common sense to keep his mouth shut as he follows me into the building.

  The main entrance isn’t locked. It’s been broken for months. I’m digging in my pocket for my keys, my mind reeling from everything that’s happened. I’m exhausted, hungry, and more than a little disappointed, and I don’t notice Kristin standing at my door until it’s too late.

  “Why do you have a ghost with you?” she asks, eyeing Levi. “Please tell me that’s not this morning’s victim.”

  Great. Just great. This is the last thing I want to deal with right now.

  “It is.” I wait for her to move out of the way. When she doesn’t budge, I say, “Can we do this inside?”

  Kristin stares at me for a beat, then at Levi, before she steps away from the door.

  I open the door and usher everyone in. Levi, smartly, goes right to the couch and sits, staying well out of the way.

  I’ve barely gotten the door shut when Kristin asks, “Where’s your assignment?”

  Oh crap. My assignment. I completely forgot. I rush to my bedroom, my eyes zeroing in on my alarm clock. It’s not leaning there. I look on the floor and under the bed in case maybe it slipped off the stand. Nothing.

  My brow furrows as I walk back out to the living room. “I didn’t get one.”

  Kristin gives me a look, and huffs, putting a hand on her hip. “I wonder why.”

  I stand there for a moment, head cocked to one side, staring at her. I expected some anger. I expected some disapproval, but this... I didn’t expect this coldness. Not from her.

  “I see your disapproval, Kristin,” I say. “What is it? Spit it out already.”

  “Pretty sure you already know.”

  She’s right. I do know. But her tone irritates me so much I clench my jaw to stop myself from snapping out. None of this is her problem, and I won’t feel bad for making a decision that upsets her. Making Kristin happy is not my problem, nor is it my responsibility. But my own happiness? That’s a whole other story.

  “For the first time since I died I feel something,” I say. “I’m doing something good, and it feels amazing. I feel alive again.”

  Kristin’s face tightens, and she throws me an angry look. “You’re not alive!”

  I flinch, feeling her words like she hit me and my mouth drops open. “That was harsh.”

  “Well, it’s true. You’re not alive. You’re not human. You have an eternity on this earth, or you could.”

  Something inside me snaps. “You can either be my friend and support me, or you can leave.”

  Kristin gives me a dirty look and her eyebrows raise so high they nearly hit her hairline. “I am your friend. This is being a friend. Friends watch out for each other, and they tell it like it is.”

  “You’re not being a friend,” I reply coolly. “You’re trying to mother me.”

  I cross the room to the kitchen and open the fridge. I’m starving, but I’ve also had enough.

  I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do.

  I’ve had enough of everyone’s disapproval.

  I can feel Kristin’s eyes searing the back of my head, burning into me. I expect her to say something, anything, but she doesn’t.

  Instead, she turns away from me and walks out.

  FOURTEEN

  IT HAS BECOME APPARENT that I’m not a very good investigator.

  I’m sitting at my computer, searching the Internet, for what, I’m not even sure, and trying hard not to think about Kristin and the mess I’ve made with her.

  Searches like: how to get a search warrant, wasn’t overly helpful, and neither was how to obtain evidence. I’m pretty sure cops do more than Internet searches, but since Cameron banned me from the crime scene, it’s pretty much all I’ve got.

  Before the searches, I attempted to sketch the killer. Turns out, I’m not an artist. My stick figure drawing isn’t going to help a soul. I probably should have taken a picture, but without a flash, it wouldn’t have helped anyway. And then there was my whole psychic story... I couldn’t have handed over the picture even if I wanted to.

  I need proof. Something substantial, because Cameron is right. No way is he going to get a warrant to search an entire apartment building based on a psychic’s vision.

  The thought of marching over to the killer’s building crosses my mind, but that seems like an epically bad idea. If he spots me again, searching for him, he might bolt. That would leave us no further ahead than we are now.

  Ugh. I should be out there, on the scene, helping. I’m going stir crazy. I can’t just sit here and wait. I feel so... useless.

  “This is boring,” Levi says. He’s stretched out on my couch, staring at the ceiling. “There’s got to be something we can do to get this moving.”

  “Yeah,” I say. I push back from my computer, and turn my chair to face him. “But you heard Cameron. If he catches me snooping, he’s going to put me in cuffs.”

  Levi snorts. “I doubt that. The only cuffs that man is putting you in are the ones attached to his bed.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong. He’s just a flirt. That’s it.” The words taste like lies, bitter and wrong. But I’m not ready to examine it further. At least not until Levi crosses over.

  Levi snorts and gives me an exaggerated eye roll. “No, I don’t. I’m telling you, that man wants you. He’s just trying to protect you.”

  Protect me? Maybe Levi’s right, but it seems like such a ridiculous notion. Still, knowing that doesn’t stop the small flutter of butterflies in my belly.

  “Well that’s stupid,” I say. “I’m already dead. I should be protecting him.”

  “True,” Levi says. He looks at me curiously. “How long have you been doing this whole Grim Reaper thing?”

  “Six months.”

  “How does it work?” he asks. “Were you chosen or something?”

  “Kind of,” I say. “I died, and Death recruited me.”
r />   “Oh.” He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. When he continues, his voice is softer, almost hesitant, as though he’s not quite sure he should ask but does anyway. “How’d you die?”

  I fight the urge to tell him it’s none of his business. It’s true, of course. Dying is a very personal thing. But that’s not really the cause of my hesitation. I just don’t like thinking about it, because it’s not who I am anymore. My death is part of my old life, a life I’m still struggling to let go of.

  “I was shot,” I say after a moment. “Convenience store robbery. Wrong place. Wrong time.”

  “Sorry, Alexa,” he says, and he look as though he means it. “That sucks.”

  I shrug. “No biggie. It was my time, and look at me now. I’m still here. Still living life. I miss my family sometimes, but that’s life, I guess.”

  Silence falls.

  Levi doesn’t push the subject, and I’m thankful for it.

  After a long minute, he says, “We need to get proof. A confession.”

  “Yeah, we do,” I agree.

  “I’ve got an idea.” He grins. “But I’m pretty sure you won’t like it.”

  I’M NOT SURE IF I’D call Levi’s idea good, but it’s a plan, and that’s more than we’ve had since he died.

  It’s raining. A light, but steady drizzle taps against my windshield as I make my way back to the crime scene, hoping Cameron is there. It’s just after eleven o’clock, and I should be tired, but I’m not. Determined energy keeps pushing me forward.

  The entire ride back to Levi’s apartment, I keep telling myself that this is right. I’m doing the right thing. Before fully immersing myself in Levi’s plan I owe it to Cameron and myself to make one last-ditch effort to catch the killer the right way—the legal way. And although Levi wasn’t entirely on board with the second plan (he thought his was epic), he did agree that mine was a good fall back, just in case.

  It’s only been ten minutes, maybe fifteen since Levi took off in search of the killer. I have no idea how much time I have. Literally. Each move I make gets me closer and closer to Death’s shit list, and I know it’s just a matter of time now before he steps in.

  I’m actually surprised Death hasn’t shown up. I’m not sure what to make of it. He knows Levi didn’t move on, and I’m sure he knows I didn’t force the issue. The man seems to know everything when it comes to his Reapers. I don’t know what to make of his absence. It’s confusing, that’s for sure.

  Maybe he’s just waiting for me to screw up past the point of no return.

  The thought scares me.

  There are still a lot of police cars at Levi’s building. I park in an empty visitor’s space, and head in, this time, taking the elevator to Levi’s floor. It just so happens that Cameron is waiting for the elevator when the doors slide open. He looks at me, his expression, completely blank, as I step off the elevator.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Cameron arches an eyebrow. “I thought I told you to stay home.”

  “Yeah, well...” My gaze bounces to Levi’s apartment door, before landing back on Cameron, and I offer up a little shrug. “You did, and I’m sorry for just showing up. I just... you don’t understand. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

  He’s quiet for a moment, staring at me. I’m not sure if he’s about to laugh or strangle me. Based on his expression it’s probably both.

  The floor is buzzing with activity. Crime scene technicians, police officers, even a few reporters trying to get passed the police tape. I watch them all, waiting to see what Cameron will do. I don’t want to push him and get kicked out again before getting a chance to say everything I need to say, although it’s seriously hard keeping my mouth shut under the weight of his stare.

  “Why is this case so important to you?” Cameron eventually asks.

  I don’t want to talk about it, because his eyes are changing, going all soft and melty, and it makes me feel anxious all over again. I don’t want to keep lying to him. I hate lying. It makes me feel... dirty and wrong. I also hate opening up, hate how vulnerable I am when I do it.

  “I don’t know. It’s the third time I’ve seen it. It’s freakin’ disturbing. And I don’t understand it. I don’t like things I don’t understand.” My voice shakes when I say it, and Cameron shoots me a quick intrigued look.

  “Life is full of things we can’t understand.” Cameron steps closer to me, his expression hardening, but when he touches my back, it’s gentle. “Some things just can’t be explained no matter how much we want answers. They just happen. It’s not right, and it’s not fair. But that’s how it is.”

  “This is different,” I say. “I can identify the killer. I know where he lives. Maybe I could go to a judge with you. Maybe I can make him believe me the way I made you believe.”

  “If I thought that would work, I’d take you, sweetheart,” he says, and I can tell he means it. “I swear it. But even if it did... no one is going to believe the word of a psychic, not when it comes down to it. Without real, tangible evidence, a lawyer would have him out of our custody in a blink.”

  “So that’s it then?” I ask. “I should just give up? Let Levi suffer? He won’t move on until his killer is caught.”

  Cameron shakes his head. “I never said give up. Just slow down. We’re waiting for forensics to finish with the knife and cell phone. The scene is being swept for clues, something we can pin to him. With any luck, they’ll find something, and we’ll be able to get that warrant.”

  “Kelley,” someone shouts, and we both turn our heads. “I’ve got something.”

  “Wait here,” Cameron says. “I’m not done with this conversation yet.”

  “Okay,” I say, and nod.

  Leaning back against the wall, I watch Cameron walk away. I don’t like this side of him. The gentle, caring side.

  Okay, wait, that’s a lie. I like it. I like it way too much.

  I’m lost in thought, trying to remind myself all of the reasons why I shouldn’t like Detective Cameron Kelley, when Levi pops up in front of me, appearing out of nowhere.

  I startle, thankfully swallowing down the surprised shriek that tries to fly from my mouth and hiss, “Bud, a little warning would have been nice.”

  Levi merely laughs, and says, “I found him. Let phase two begin.”

  FIFTEEN

  “WHAT EXACTLY IS PHASE two?” I whisper and turn around, putting my back to all the officers.

  “We talked about this,” Levi says impatiently. “You’re going to get a confession.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but how? I can’t walk through walls like you.”

  Levi makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “We’ll figure it out when we get there. Come on, lets get going.”

  Right. Okay. My plan didn’t work. Cameron isn’t going to try to use me to get the search warrant. This is it. Phase two.

  “Slow down for a second,” I say. “I need to leave a note for Cameron. What’s the apartment number?” Because really, I’m going to question a killer. If this isn’t the time to play it safe and let someone know where I’m going, I don’t know what is.

  “P. Maxwell,” Levi says. “Apartment 308.”

  Levi stares at me without speaking or moving as I dig into my bag and pull out a notepad. Quickly, I scribble down the address and name, along with a quick, ‘I’m sorry,’ and then tear off the sheet, folding it in half.

  When I turn around, Cameron is not in the hallway, and I suspect he’s still checking out whatever new thing they found on the scene. I approach the first officer I see, a petite brunet with kind, warm brown eyes.

  “Can you give this to Detective Kelley?” I ask, and hold out the note.

  “Sure,” the officer says, and takes it. “Just as soon as he’s free.”

  I offer up a smile. “Thank you,” I say, and then I turn to the elevator and hit the button.

  It’s still raining when I get outside, harder than before. I pull my jacket closed, and make a mad dash
for my car. Levi doesn’t wait for me to open the door this time. He just zips through it and sits in the front.

  “Okay, so what’s the plan?” I ask, and buckle my seatbelt.

  Levi is quiet for a beat. “I’m not sure yet.”

  I groan and put the car in reverse. “This was your idea.”

  “Right,” Levi says, and laughs. “Okay... You need a reason to be in the building. Just give me a... Wait. I’ve got it. You’re a college student doing a survey for an assignment.”

  Another groan and I shift again, pulling out of the parking lot. “Really? That’s a horrible plan.”

  “Dude, it’s brilliant,” Levi says. “We just need to get you a clipboard, a pen, some paper... this is going to be awesome.”

  I’m not so sure about brilliant, but whatever. None of our plans have been all that stellar so far. It’s worth a shot.

  I stop at an office supply store and pick up the essentials: pens, paper, a clipboard, and a cheap recorder. Levi waits in the car, which is probably a good thing. Less chance of more people thinking I’m a nutcase, talking to myself.

  It only takes a few minutes to drive to P. Maxwell’s from the office supply store. By the time we pull into the lot, Levi’s enthusiasm has rubbed off, and I’m practically buzzing with excitement.

  This is it. I’m going to nail this guy.

  I park in an empty visitor’s space right in front of the building. The lot is practically empty, most of the residents have gone for the day.

  “You should wait here,” I say, as I reach into the back seat and grab my bag of goodies.

  Levi gives me a startled look. “What?”

  “Levi, please,” I say, tearing open the pack of paper. “You’re awesome, but it’s super distracting having you talking to me. I see you. It’s like you’re real, solid, but no one else does. If we want to get this confession I need to be on my A-game.”