Page 122 of Not Quite Dead Yet

‘Doesn’t sound like nothing. If there’s someone who hates the company, hates our family, that means they could be a suspect not just for the fire, but the person who killed me.’

Dianne blinked. ‘JJ is the one who –’

‘– What’s the cat thing?’

‘It doesn’t matter, Jet.’ Mom doubled down, already taking up two outlines, splitting into more.

‘Gerry!’ Jet pressed him instead. ‘What’s the cat thing? And remember, I only have two days to live so it’d be really great if we could stop wasting time.’

Gerry swallowed, the lump in his throat moving up and down with it.

‘It was –’ he began.

‘– It was nothing,’ Dianne cut him off. ‘Just a harmless prank by someone who hijacked one of our Town Hall meetings, during citizens’ comments.’

Jet pushed out her chin. ‘Dressed as a cat?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Mom said. ‘The meetings are online, on Zoom.’

‘It was a filter thing,’ Gerry added. ‘To hide his identity. And he distorted his voice too. Was actually kind of creepy. That was my Halloween costume this year. Doesn’t seem so funny anymore, if he’s the one who set the fire.’

‘You never told me about this,’ Dad said, finding his voice.

‘Because it’s not relevant,’ Mom replied. ‘It was a harmless prank and we’ve all forgotten about it.’

Apart from Gerry. Apart from her mom too, hands tuckedbehind her back, balled into fists, telltale knuckles pushing through the skin.

‘When was this?’ Jet asked both of them, either of them.

Gerry looked up, searched the ceiling and his mind for the answer. ‘Maybe a year ago. Or less.’

‘Thank you, Gerry,’ Dianne clipped.

‘Do you still have the recording of the meeting?’

‘Well, yes,’ Gerry said. ‘Everyone does. All the village trustee Zoom recordings are posted online on the town website, along with a transcript of the minutes –’

‘– Yes, thank you, Gerry,’ Dianne shot him down.

Gerry continued mumbling, something about ‘transparency of democracy.’

Dianne turned away. ‘Look, there’s Sergeant Finney now. Jack,’ she called, ‘Gerry has something he needs to show you. About the fire.’

Gerry’s shoulders slumped. Just wait until he finds out how much Luke ripped him off over marble countertops. Maybe he’d be happy that someone else already burned it down.

He shuffled away, dismissed, clearing the path between Billy and Jet. Another thousand words in the blink of an eye.

And a new lead.

For someone who might have started the fire.

Someone who might have smashed Jet’s head in with a hammer.

‘Come on,’ Jet said to him, but he was already coming, truck keys trailing from his finger, his liquid eyes on her. Jet’s heart picked up, not in the bad way, not fight-or-flight, actually just flying, side by side with Billy, a new electricity thrumming under her skin, sidestepping her right arm.

Somehow, Billy could tell. ‘Are you excited?’ He smiled down at her.

‘Aren’t you?’ she whispered.

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