Frizzy haired and overweight, sixteen year old Elizabeth Summers hears ghosts. She also reads people's auras and sees when something bad is headed their way. Unfortunately, she can't choose which ghosts visit her psychic hotline or when her paranorm...
Dylan repeats his question when my evasive response doesn't satisfy him. "How did you know about Kiley, Elizabeth?"
"I'm sorry?" I stall. "What are you talking about?"
"How did you know where Kiley Jamison was being kept after she was abducted?"
Shocked, I silently inhale. Dylan's an Aussie transplant, but he's lived here long enough to remember the Jamison kidnapping from three years ago. Dresden's a big place. With average statistics someone from here is always dying from natural causes. Or disappearing from something more sinister. The Jamison case is memorable because it attracted national attention. As he accelerates onto the highway, the strong wind rushing into my rolled down window blows damp hair off my forehead. I feel momentarily cleansed. As his Mustang flies down the highway, I realize Dylan's a good driver. Instead of feeling trapped, I'm enjoying the smooth, authoritative way he handles his car. I'm also impressed by his quiet ability to assess other people. He's a lot smarter than most people have given him credit for being.
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As the roadside flies by in a blur of colors, I briefly catch sight of two little white crosses placed in memorial on the side of the road. The tilting wooden crosses, now gray from exhaust fumes, mark the mile where two drunken teens died last year in a car crash.
Unwillingly, I flash back to Kiley Jamison. After she disappeared, I kept dreaming about her. The police and her mother thought her father had kidnapped her, but it was really some sick bastard who'd stowed her in a steel drum in an abandoned rail yard. She'd been in that drum for two days and nights with only a few small air holes left for her to breathe. Her mother had been frantic-sure her ex husband had abducted her daughter to another state. When I dreamed about little Kiley, I knew she was still alive, but I couldn't discern where she was. I knew she was alone in the dark, terrified, and desperately in need of help.
Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I contacted Harlan Pierce, the lead detective on the Dresden police force. This was awkward for me, because I knew Harlan had an affair with my mother before I was born. He knew my mother was a psychic when he was with her, so when I went to him with a key detail leading the detectives to find Kiley. He promised to keep my name out of the investigation. Naturally, he assumed my mother had sent me with the information about the little Jamison girl. He never realized my mom lost control of her Sight shortlyafter she had me. Somehow, she passed the paranormal gene on to me when I was born. Now I have her gift, or curse, whichever way you want to look at it.
After Harlan left her, my mom's depression got worse. She started taking a lot of pills to escape from her sadness and the visions tormenting her. She died from an overdose two years ago after a nervous breakdown. Now I live with my uptight grandmother, Julia. She make's Carrie's mother look like a saint.
Remembering all of this makes me feel like a sad freak. Looking over at Dylan, I feign ignorance. Determinedly, I focus on the scenery outside my window. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about."
