Stone Cold

Chapter 4

Driving in a developing neighborhood at night without headlights was just as stupid as it was necessary. No one could know I was here, but it was almost impossible to read the numbers on the houses. More than once I had to get out of my idling car to make sure I was heading in the right direction. Considering all of the houses on every block pretty much looked the same—all built of beautiful red brick, the garage doors generic eggshell white as well as the patio columns, the lawns all perfectly square and trimmed to the same length—I was lucky to finally find the house I was looking for.

I parked the car in the driveway and pulled my flashlight from the glovebox. Considering no one had moved into the development yet, I had hoped they hadn't locked everything up. I turned the knob to the front door. Locked. Shining my flashlight through one of the windows I tried to find anything unusual inside, but the house was empty. I turned and saw the ghost staring at me. I screamed.

I bent over to catch my breath, my heart pounding. "Stop scaring me," I gasped, looking up into his confused face. I don't think he really had the hang of being a ghost yet, and I hoped he never had to. He smiled and turned, walking off the porch to the back.

I followed him until he disappeared through the fence, leaving me on the other side. There wasn't a door to go through, so I put my flashlight in my pocket and jumped. The un-finished edges of the wood bit into the palms of my hands as I barely caught the top, struggling to pull my body up and over. "I really need to start going to the gym," I grunted. As I landed on the other side, the moon lit up the spacious yard and I looked around for my dead companion. I finally spotted him hovering over the stone walkway leading to the gazebo.

He gave me a sad smile and pointed down.

"I don't understand," I said.

He pointed to himself and then back at his feet, sinking into the stone. I waited for him to come back up, but, after about five minutes, it didn't look like he was going to.

"What? The police already found your body, you aren't...shit." It's someone else's body. I stared at the path, trying to figure out how I would explain this. I couldn't just leave. If I called Officer Evans, he'd lock me up for sure. Fuck. Every scenario I pictured ended with me either in the slammer or some mental institution.

Rage and confusion bubbled in my chest until it hurt and I cursed the boy for showing me this. I hopped back over the fence and searched through the glove compartment in my car for Detective Forrester's business card. I could have called Evans, but it would have to go straight to Daniel anyways.

He picked up on the second ring. "What?" he snapped groggily.

"D-Detective Forrester? It's Melissa. Melissa Kennedy?"

"Melissa?" he asked. He repeated my name, obviously trying to shake off sleep. Finally, his head seemed to come out of the fog. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. I need you to come to Eatonville, it's important. And you might want to bring a couple of heavy duty shovels."

                                                                                     * * *

The silence stretched on to an unbearable length as Daniel stared at the cobblestone path. He sighed for the hundredth time, rubbing his jaw. "Explain this to me one more time."

"There's...there's a body." I pointed to where the ghost disappeared. "Buried right there."

"And the ghost of my John Doe showed you this."

"Yes. Well, he sank into the ground."

"And he pointed to himself before he did it."

"Yes."