Page 38 of Not Quite Dead Yet

He opened it now, a green candle in a glass jar. A scent described asCedar Delight.Billy placed it on the coffee table,grabbed a lighter from a kitchen drawer, and bent low to light the wick, the baby fire reflected in his glassy blue eyes.

‘Lovely.’ Jet grinned up at him. ‘I can see myself living here, for the rest of my life.’

Billy retracted his thumb, gave her a look.

‘What? That’s funny.’ Jet gave a gruff laugh, if he wouldn’t. Billy normally laughed at all of her jokes.

‘I’ll just grab this,’ he muttered, reaching for the photo frame that lived in the middle of the coffee table. It had been blocked by Jet’s screen before, but she saw it now as he picked it up. A woman with dark curly hair and glittering eyes, an ice cream melting over her fingers. Billy’s mom. Mrs Finney. Beth. Three names for the same person. There was a boy in the photo too, same hair, same ice cream, same cool blue eyes. The Billy Jet knew best, about twelve years old. Billy averted his eyes and Jet averted hers too, pretending she hadn’t noticed, watching out the side of her eye as Billy took the photo and shut it away, on the top shelf in the closet.

‘You don’t have to put everything away just because I’m here.’

‘Oh,’ he said, remembering something else to worry about. ‘I keep a spare key under the mat outside the front door. You should have it. I’ll get it for you.’

He got it for her, almost breathless when he arrived back at her side, putting the key down on the table, between her feet. His eyes caught her screen, mirrored it back.

‘That’s the street where your phone was turned off?’

Jet nodded, craned to look at him, towering above her. ‘You know anyone who lives there?’

Billy chewed his lip. ‘Don’t think so. You think that’s where they live?’

‘Well, they went straight there, after the attack,’ Jet said.‘Turned my phone off in this spot.’ She pointed to the street view, where River Street passed North Street.

Billy thought about it. ‘Could have been on their way home, then realized it was a bad idea to do that with your phone still on. Doesn’t mean they live exactly there, right? Just that it was on the way.’

‘Maybe.’ Jet nodded. ‘So maybe they live north of town.’

That was a lot ofmaybe.

‘What else do you have?’

Jet glanced at the scribbles in her open notebook, Billy following her eyes.

‘Not a lot. The police think it’s JJ, I can tell.’

Billy bent lower, leaning on the back of the sofa, his head hovering over her shoulder.

‘Doyouthink it’s JJ?’

‘No. JJ’s not like that. But I’m trying to keep an open mind.’ She paused. ‘Well … someone bashed it open for me.’

That onealmostgot a smile out of him, a lopsided twitch in his cheek. His eyes still didn’t look right, though: haunted, but also busy somehow, ever moving, too much going on behind them. He was the one who’d seen her dead – well, almost dead. Maybe that took a while to go away. Jet hadn’t had to see it, hadn’t had to live it after those first few seconds, but she wondered if her eyes looked haunted too. Felt like it, that deep pain behind her right eye, the dull ache and itch beneath the bandages. Not dull enough; she should take more codeine. At least Dr Lee gave her the good stuff.

She winced.

‘What’s wrong?’ He bent even lower, to meet her eyes. ‘You need your painkillers? Food? I can make you something, anything you want.’

‘Billy, it’s OK. Stop doing stuff for me.’

‘I like doing stuff for you.’

He always had.

Billy was nine months older than her. Jet didn’t know a world he didn’t exist in. Always right there, next door.

Hey Billy, wanna ride bikes? I’ll race ya. Hey, did you let me win because I’m younger and smaller? Don’t let me win, Billy.

Hi Mrs Mason, is Jet in? I found a frog and I need to show her. Jet loves frogs.

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