Page 55 of Ghostridden
But this… Avi wasn’t just a writer. He was awriter.A writer who was good enough to win one of the most prestigious awards in all of genre fiction. My hands shook as I edged toward the desk to set it down. And nearly dropped it again when I read the brass plaque on the base.
Lang Literary Award 2004
Presented to Jake Fields
“What the…” I croaked.
I must have sounded sufficiently peculiar to catch Avi’s attention because even though he didn’t shift his focus from the bowl and sweater, he asked, “You all right?”
“You’re Jake Fields?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“You’re Jake Fields.”
“Yes. Or at least I was.”
“You’reJake Fields.”
“Isaid—” He sat back on his heels and looked up at me, but when his gaze flicked to what I was holding, his face screwed up in disgust. “Oh. That.”
I brandished it. “Yes. This. You won the freakingLang, Avi. 2004… that must have been forBehind Time, right? I remember because I thought it was so well-deserved. Why would you shove it upside down in a window seat?”
He scowled. “Because it wasmockingme. I was getting absolutely nowhere with the next book. It was nothing but drivel.”
“Drivel.” I stared down at him. “That’s the first word you said to me. Drivel.”
“Maybe because it’s what I’d been saying to myself for weeks. I’d gotten to about chapter four and then everything turned dead and dull.” He sat back and folded his arms around his knees.“I think I was trying to force it, you know? I was missing Oren, and wanted to get the book to my agent before he got back, and instead I couldn’t make any headway at all.” His brow pleated. “I must have fallen asleep at the desk, because I woke up with that thing staring at me. I was so irritated that I just shoved it into the chest to get it out of my sight.”
“When was this?”
“I don’t know. A couple of days before the party?”
My scalp prickled and those damn spectral spiders staged another curtain call down my back. I peered closely at the base of the award and saw a discoloration on one corner. I held it away from my body.
“Holy crap.” I tiptoed to the desk and set it gingerly in the center of the blotter. “I need to call Jerry. Or the police. Or Jerry and the police.”
“What in the world for?”
“Because…” I swallowed and wiped my hands on my jeans at the thought that my fingerprints might have just contaminated the evidence. “Because I think this might be the murder weapon.”
“Murder weapon? Whose murder?”
“Well.” I met his gaze. “Yours.”
Avi stared at me, mouth agape. “Wait. I wasmurdered?”
I winced.Shit. We hadn’t really talked aboutAvi’sdeath, had we? This probably wasn’t the best way to break the news. “Maybe?”
Oren’s either, other than he was gone, and when I came to think about it, I’d never asked about Oren’s manner of death either. I made a mental note to ask Taryn, if only so I could share that information with Avi. When he was ready. When heasked.
Which wasn’t right now.
I hunkered down, putting myself on his eye level, wondering briefly whether he could float.Not relevant now, Maz.
“Hey. I’m sorry. I should have broken that to you a little better. But to be honest, I assumed you knew.”
His face bunched as though he were trying to peer through fog. “Why?”
