I Spy Dead People by Jennifer Fischetto Read Free Book Online Page A

dozed off twice. The first time I yelled in her ear until she woke up. The second time I gave up. I figured she'd wake in the morning with her cell stuck to her face.
    I glance at my clock. It's two a.m., and I can't turn off my mind.
    Where is Linzy? Is she just hiding out at a friend's, sulking, pouting, being a typical teenager? Whatever that means. Gosh, I hate when adults have to categorize every teen as moody or dramatic, like we're not individuals, unique. Should we call all of them old and fun-suckers? Well, I guess we do.
    Now that Linzy's missing, Shayla won't have time to hang all over Troy.
    I smack myself in the forehead. Bad thought, Piper. This isn't about you. But I can't help wonder if this will be my very own first case. No, I don't want anything to be wrong with Linzy, and it's unlikely Dad will allow me anywhere near a mystery, but I can dream, right?
    My bladder is full, so I grab my glasses and get up to empty it. When I'm done, I head downstairs for something to drink, to fill it up again. The wood floor is cool against my feet. Most of our other places had wall-to-wall carpeting. I'll have to get used to wearing socks or slippers when the season changes.
    Light emits from beneath Dad's office. Nothing unusual there.
    The dim light above the stove is on, casting an eerie glow across the linoleum floor to the back door. The safety chain sways slightly. Dad must've just fastened it. I open the fridge, grab a bottle of water, and eye the cold pizza. I take a slice, on a paper towel, and head to the front of the house. I pause by Dad's door, listening for any signs of him being awake. If he's working and I walk in, he'll be annoyed. Not like growling, evil monster annoyed, but enough to make me feel bad. But if he's asleep and I knock or wake him upon entering, then I'll feel worse. So I turn and climb the stairs.
    When I reach the top, I shiver. It's suddenly chillier up here. Doesn't heat rise? This house is weird. I go into my room and push the door with my foot. It closes but doesn't click shut. I set the pizza and bottle on my nightstand and go back to fully close the door.
    Loud voices sound, and I freeze, trying to figure out where they're coming from. Dad doesn't own a radio. He either prefers to write in silence or to some old CDs he owns, but I don't hear music. It's definitely talking. Are there people outside? Did Linzy come home, and are she and her mom arguing again?
    I open my door and step into the hall. It sounds like the television in the spare room. I fling open the door and see a woman dancing on the beach in a white dress. The announcer is talking about how light their pads are. "You'll never know they're there."
    Because every woman wants to frolic on the sand when cramping. I switch off the TV and go back to my room. Since when does Dad watch TV? The only reason he got it was because we usually go through a movie stage after he finishes a book and before we move to our next destination. Only that didn't happen this last time. We were packed and out of Georgia as soon as his editor approved the book.
    The pizza no longer looks inviting. I drink some water then crawl under my sheets. After a few minutes, my body starts to feel heavy, and I close my eyes. Finally. Sleep.
    In that weird place between awake and slumber my thoughts flitter to Mom. Where is she? Is she happy? Does she have another family?
    As I drift off, giggles sound.

CHAPTER SEVEN
 
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    I get up, shower, smear cream cheese on half of an un-toasted onion bagel, then step onto the porch, all before Dad emerges from his office. I hope there's been news of Linzy. It's another bright, warm day, and everyone seems to be taking advantage of that. Except the Quinns.
    Mrs. Jackson is sitting on her porch, sipping lemonade. I debate waving, since we haven't been introduced. It would be the polite thing, but I don't want her to call me over and engage in a conversation about the good ole days or whatever old people think