Death by Chocolate

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I sank onto the sofa. "Died?" I repeated. "Paula's dead? Of course she's not dead. What are you saying, that she's a ghost? You've been watching too many of those old horror movies. This is not a movie. Paula is not a ghost."

Fred sat beside me, heaved a long sigh, scrunched up his mouth and rolled his eyes. "I know she's not a ghost. But she's not Paula Walters either. My guess is, she stole the identity of somebody who died young."

"Wow. That's the kind of thing you see in the movies. Real people don't do that."

He sighed again. "Real people do it all the time. That's where they got the idea for the movies."

"I meant, people we know don't do that. Real people like Paula."

"Either she faked her own death at the age of two, she's a ghost, or she changed her identity. Take your pick."

"All right, I guess we have to go with option C." I opened the folder and flipped through it. Fred had printed out several sheets of documentation.

"Buying that old car she came here in was Paula's first appearance upon returning from the hereafter," he said. "Renting your house was the second."

I studied the documents and finally found one I could comprehend. "She bought the car in Kansas City."

"For cash from an individual. Then she applied for a driver's license, stating she'd never had one before."

"I guess not if she died at the age of two. She'd have been too short to reach the gas pedal."

"Probably have a little trouble passing the written test too, unless she was very precocious."

I thumbed through the papers. "I'm impressed with all the stuff you came up with. You ever thought about being a professional detective?" Might as well use the occasion to open the ongoing discussion of his mysterious occupation.

He shrugged. "You just have to know where to look. I'm not finished. I checked Texas, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, and the surrounding states and couldn't find a birth certificate for Zachary Walters."

"Why are you so secretive about what you do all day?"

"I work at the computer all day."

"I know, but what do you do at the computer all day?"

"I spent this afternoon looking for Paula."

"Are you ever going to tell me what you do?"

"Maybe."

"But not today."

"There's nothing on TV tonight," he said, changing the subject. He does that a lot. "Want to come over and watch The Day the Earth Stood Still?"

"Might as well. Hey, you know what we need to do? We need to go talk to that apartment manager where Lester Mackey lives, see what we can find out about him."

"We don't need to do any such thing."

I didn't argue. I recognized his stubborn tone. I'd either have to figure out a way to convince him or I'd have to go by myself. Unless Lester Mackey was listed in the phone book, I wasn't sure I could get the address without Fred's help, but I still had Detective Adam Trent's business card. I could probably figure some way to get the information out of him. I'd picked up a few things from Rick about being sneaky.

"I'll bring the Cokes and microwave popcorn," I offered.

"Orville Redenbacher's Pour-Over Movie Theater Butter?"