Big Ghouls Don't Cry - a Jodi Collister, Ghoul Detective Mystery

(Just so you know - this is a rough draft! And there's a real cover to come soon.) 

Chapter One:

            I’m really not very good at juggling. I held two Styrofoam containers of hot chocolate—even though it was summer—and a bag of chocolate donuts (don’t judge) and I guess I looked pretty helpless because the guy standing near the door of the coffee shop reached out and held it open for me. I flashed him a smile in gratitude and then stopped, looked at him, and smiled again. He had blue eyes, dimples, great hair—the works—and he returned my smile like he thought I was something awesome too.

            I stepped out onto the sidewalk more than just a little bit distracted. If my hands hadn’t been full, and if it wouldn’t have been extremely awkward, I would have given him my phone number then and there, but my hands were full and it would have been awkward, and what if he smiled that way at every girl who was trying to carry way too much food? What if he thought all that was for me and I was planning to go on a huge chocolate binge? Okay, sometimes I did go on huge binges, but that’s beside the point. I didn’t want him thinking it because that’s not the best way to start a relationship.

            I glanced up at the building across the way and saw movement in one of our office windows. Good, Mel was already in. I wouldn’t have to hunt her down and give her yet another lecture on punctuality. Maybe she’d get an extra donut as a reward.

            When I stepped off the curb to cross the street, I suddenly heard a loud screech, so loud it made my ears ring. A wind came up and fluttered around my knees, making my skirt billow, and then it blew me back up on to the sidewalk. It was the weirdest thing. One minute, I’m crossing the street, and the next I’m on the sidewalk. For some reason, I wasn’t holding the food anymore, and people were screaming and running. Several were in a huddle on the road in front of a bus that had braked right there in front of the coffee shop, even though the official stop was another half block down the street. I blinked a few times, feeling completely disoriented, and took a step forward. And then I gasped.

            Right in the path of the bus lay a girl. She wore a white sundress with purple irises on it, just like mine, and two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of donuts were scattered on the ground around her. One of her legs was twisted at an odd angle beneath her, but besides that, she looked at peace. Her light brown hair fanned out around her face, creating a pretty effect. But it was my face. That was my hair. Those were my strappy sandals. I screamed and scrambled back, fear clutching my chest. What was going on?

            People pushed and shoved. I heard voices.

“Did you call the police?”

“They’re on their way.”

One man felt the girl’s pulse. “She’s dead.”

The bus driver shook his head, looking pale. “No, she can’t be dead.” Someone patted him on the arm. “I’ve never hit someone before, but she just stepped out right in front of me . . .”

The man who had taken the girl’s pulse stood up and moved onto the sidewalk. I took a deep breath and stepped up beside him. “Excuse me, I have a little problem. Can you tell me—”

He stepped a little further down the sidewalk, away from me. Now that was rude.

A police car pulled up and two officers got out. I could hear a siren in the distance. The first officer reached down and picked up the purse laying next to the donuts. “Her name’s Jodi Collister,” he said, and his partner wrote that down. Then he too checked for a pulse. “Dead.”

This had to be some kind of mistake. I was standing right there. Okay, so the girl on the ground looked just like me and was wearing my clothes and had been carrying my food. But I couldn’t be dead. Dead people don’t stand on sidewalks wondering what happened to their donuts—they’re dead. They don’t even care about donuts.

I approached the first police officer. “Excuse me. I’m actually Jodi Collister. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I assure you—”

The officer’s radio crackled and he answered it without even glancing at me.

I stepped over to his partner. “I know you’re busy, but if you could just answer some questions for me, I’d appreciate it.”

Nothing. Not even an acknowledgement that he’d heard me.

Wait. Maybe he hadn’t.

I had been trying to remain calm, thinking that there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for this, but now I lost it. I ran up to a woman who was watching the scene with her teenage daughter. “Hi! Can you hear me? Either of you?”

No reply.

I turned to a man standing about a yard behind them. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

He pulled out his cell phone and started making a call.

I stumbled backward, not knowing what to do or where to turn. Traffic had been blocked by police cars, and now the siren I had been hearing became deafening as an ambulance pulled up beside the bus. The paramedics jumped out and began working furiously. I drifted back that way, curious to see what they were doing and if things would suddenly make sense. They shook their heads, and I heard someone say something about calling the coroner.  

“Wait!” I looked up at the sound of Mel’s voice. She came running across the street, waving her arms. “Wait!” The paramedics turned as she reached them. “Oh, no. Jodi!” She began to cry in earnest, clutching the hand of the girl on the road.

“You know the deceased?” one of the officers asked.

“Yes, she’s my best friend and my business partner, Jodi Collister. What happened? She can’t be dead!”

“Witnesses say that she stepped off the curb right into the path of the bus.”

            “But why would she do that?” Mel shook her head. “That’s just . . . that’s just stupid.”

            “Exactly,” I muttered. “Why would I do that?”

            They asked Mel several more questions. I guess the coroner had nothing better to do that day because he showed up not long after that with a stretcher, looking all CSI or Castle or something. I watched as the dead girl was loaded into his vehicle and driven away. I had the strangest sensation, like I was somehow tied to that body and wanted to follow it, but I fought that feeling and stayed where I was, totally confused. Mel walked slowly toward the office building, and some of our friends from surrounding offices met her on the sidewalk and wrapped their arms around her shoulders. The crowd thinned out and within minutes, the street was back to normal. All except for me. I stood rooted to the spot, my mind numb, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. 

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