Page 84 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“We can go.”

As soon as we climbed back into the truck, Kim punched the door locks and shuddered. Even though she’d put on a long wool coat over her fluffy sweater, she still looked totally out of place in this neighbourhood. I held out an arm then settled it over her shoulder as she squashed against my side. Times like this, I was a Titan to her Tinkerbell, all big and awkward compared to her daintiness. I twirled a lock of silky hair around my finger, wondering what it would be like to have that blonde mane spread out over my chest. Her smooth skin against mine. Every day I spent with this girl, I wanted her more.

Meanwhile, Wyatt was on his phone in the front seat.

“Barb, can you do me a favour?”

Of course Barb would. Well into her sixties now with grey hair and a fondness for saltwater taffy, she’d worked the evening shift for as long as I could remember. As long as you observed her rules, namely bringing her a cup of coffee whenever you fetched one for yourself and keeping the outer door to the squad room closed so the draft didn’t blow across her feet, she’d go above and beyond to help.

“I need you to look up a murder for me. Kamal Kabede, out in Silver Spring… Thanks… Just a quick rundown of the details.”

He listened, his frown in the rear-view mirror growing deeper with every passing second. Sucked to be wrong, didn’t it?

When he hung up, he turned to face both of us.

“Very funny. How did you do that? Does she memorise crime databases or something? News reports?”

“She’s told you how she does it. It’s just that you choose not to believe.”

“Did Negus Johnson ever get tried?” Kim asked.

“He was arrested. There wasn’t enough evidence to charge him, but I expect you already knew that.”

“I only know what I told you.”

Wyatt went to pinch the bridge of his nose, something he’d done since he was a kid whenever he got stressed. But today, he forgot it was broken, and his face screwed up in pain.

“Fuck.”

I snorted out a laugh and turned it into a cough. “You really think it’s more plausible that Kim’s memorised the details of every murder in the entire state than for her to talk to ghosts?” Okay, so put that way, Wyatt’s assumption didn’t seem unreasonable. “Why don’t you open your mind?”

“What do you think happens after somebody dies?” Kim asked.

Wyatt shrugged. “Who knows? It’s not something I’ve ever considered. I guess they just rot in the ground.”

“What about your soul? It’s not organic. It can’t rot.”

“Then what is it?”

“Something intangible. Some sort of energy. It exists quite independently as far as I can gather. Do you want me to find another spirit? Because we can keep doing this all night if you wish.”

“One more.”

This time, we went back to Chevy Chase, and Wyatt slowed to a crawl as he drove along a side road.

“Let’s try a car accident this time. Tell me when you see a victim.”

“That won’t necessarily work,” Kim said. “Single-car victims pass straight over. It’s only if somebody else caused the crash that they get stuck.”

“You mean there are rules in the afterlife?”

“Rules and procedures, yes.”

“All this driving around is stupid, you know that,” I told him. “This is why you don’t solve more cases. Because your instincts aren’t developed properly.”

“I got promoted, and you didn’t.”

“Only because you were better at paperwork.”

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