02 Outwitted Read online

Sadie pulled a chair from the table and sat next to Jed. She cupped her hand over his fist. "Is it possible you died during surgery?"

  "No." Jed yanked his hand from hers. "People don't die from routine sinus surgery. Do they?"

  "Something must have happened. Maybe you experienced complications."

  "No. No complications. This is a bad dream. It's got to be a bad dream. What else can it be?"

  Jed's shoulders jerked as a rap on the screen door startled him.

  "Hi, Jed." Aanders flipped a carefree wave as he entered the cabin. He then nodded toward Mr. Bakke's urn. "Hi, Mr. Bakke."

  "See? I'm not dead." A gasp of relief sputtered from Jed's lips. "Aanders can see me so I can't be dead." He hurried toward the door and stood in front of Aanders. "Tell her I'm not dead. Tell her you can see me."

  "Oh, oh." Aanders grimaced and backed away from Jed's outstretched hand.

  As Sadie approached, Jed held his arm up to ward her off.

  "Aanders is a death coach, just like me. He can see the dead. If you'd give me a chance to explain, you'll understand."

  "Stay away from me. You're crazy." Jed stumbled toward the screen door and pushed it open.

  Aanders reached out to stop Jed, but the hospital gown slipped though his fingers.

  "Let him go. He's got to accept this on his own terms." Sadie caught the door before it slammed against the frame.

  Belly's head bobbed in rhythm with his panting while he watched Jed escape to the porch. He grunted, rose from the rug, and pawed at the screen. After receiving nothing but an irritated side glance from Sadie, he offered a muffled protest.

  Jane nodded toward Sadie. "I take it Jed didn't like what he heard."

  "He'll be back." Sadie pressed her finger tips into her neck muscles and kneaded them up and down.

  "It must have been Jed's body Mom retrieved at the hospital," Aanders said. "She got a call a couple hours ago. She seemed really sad."

  "I think everyone will be shocked. Jed isn't even forty-years-old yet, is he? You couldn't find a nicer guy." Jane poured a glass of milk and set it in front of Aanders. "Drink up. You're too thin." She slid a plate of Aanders' favorite lemon bars next to the glass before returning to the recliner.

  "We need to let Jed sort it out. I'm sure he's even more confused knowing Jane can't see him but Aanders and I can. I'll explain when he comes back."

  Aanders joined Jane in the sitting room and shouted answers at the television screen like he used to do when Mr. Bakke visited Jane. Jeopardy had been their favorite game show. Jane tried to replace Mr. Bakke as a contestant, but failed miserably. Aanders held back on the easy questions so Jane's pile of pennies wouldn't become depleted too early in the game. He had tucked a few pennies in reserve down the side of the sofa cushion and replenished her stash when she wasn't looking.

  A half-hour later, toenails clicking against the wooden planking signaled a canine happy dance as Belly pranced and greeted Jed's return with a slobbery bark.

  Aanders winced and hugged his arms over his chest as an agonizing wail echoed from the porch. He glanced at Sadie before letting his gaze trail to the floor.

  "That didn't take as long as I expected." Sadie patted Aanders on the shoulder. "He'll be okay. Give us a few minutes before you join us." She closed the door and stepped up to the porch swing. The weathered wood creaked as she sat next to Jed.

  "Why me?" Jed sobbed and slumped heavily toward Sadie. "Why did this have to happen to me?"

  Sadie took his hand and leaned into his shoulder to support his weight. She braced against the swing to keep from losing her balance. "I don't have an answer for you. I wish I did."

  "I had so many things I wanted to do. So much I still needed to do for my parents. I can't believe this."

  Through words barely audible, Sadie said, "Nobody ever does. Especially when they end up at Cabin 14."

  Jed swiped at both eyes with the heels of his palms. "I wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't seen my body at the mortuary. I tried to talk to Nan but she ignored me." Sobs issued forth as Jed relived the experience. "When I touched her and she didn't feel it, I finally understood the truth."

  "I'm so sorry, Jed. I'm as shocked as you are."

  "I doubt it." His back went rigid. "Wait a minute. Are you dead, too?"

  "No. I'm not circling the drain quite yet."

  As Sadie opened her mouth to continue, Jed cried, "My folks. Who's going to take care of my folks? They'll be devastated. They're too old to go through this again."

  "I know." Sadie leaned her head against the swing and rolled it back and forth in dismay. "Your poor parents. Losing two children is more than any parent should have to bear."

  "Wait a minute. I'm not missing like my sister, am I?"

  "Not if your body's in the mortuary."

  A family of four, toting inflatable buoyancy tubes, hurried past the porch. "Hi, Miss Witt," one of the children shouted. "We're going for a pontoon ride."

  Sadie waved back as the other child nudged his brother. "See. I told you she talks to imaginary friends. You didn't believe me, but now you saw for yourself."

  "Aw, who cares," the child muttered, peeking at Sadie over the top of his tube.

  "I'm sure your relatives are taking care of your parents, Jed. I'll ask Nan how they're doing when I see her. Right now, you've got other things to worry about."

  "I need to be there for them."

  "That's not possible. I know you mean well, but they wouldn't be able to see you even if you joined them."

  Jed put his fist against his mouth and wept openly.

  Sadie lifted his free hand and kissed it gently. Tears rolled off her cheeks.

  Jed drew a few broken breaths. "How do you know all this crosser stuff? Did you become a death coach when you started working at the mortuary?"

  "No, but it's a good question. I became a death coach long before I took the job. I have no idea why. It just happened." Sadie placed her foot on the porch floor to stop the swing from swaying. She held out her hand and motioned for Jed to follow. "Let's talk inside. People already think I'm crazy. Gossip has it I talk to imaginary friends. No need to kindle the fire."

  "Is he back?" Jane looked up as Sadie pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table.

  "He's back," Aanders said. "He's sitting in your chair."

  "Did he figure out why he failed to go through the light?" Jane tucked strands of her gray bob behind her ears before tugging on the tips of her white lace collar.

  "I didn't ask him, yet. He wanted to know how I became a death coach."

  "Another death coach taught Sadie just like she's teaching me." Aanders sat forward with excitement rising in his voice. "I'm a death coach, too, but I've only been once since right before Mr. Bakke died."

  "Is Jane a death coach?" Jed nodded toward Jane.

  "Nah. Just me and Sadie, and we're here to help you figure out what held you back. You've got thirty days to figure it out and cross over to the other side." Aanders eyes widened with excitement. "While you're figuring it out, you've got to make a big decision."

  "You can't be serious." Jed's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Aanders. "Are you dead, too?"

  "Aanders isn't dead, but everything he told you is accurate. After you make your decision, you need to find someone on the brink of death so you can go back through the light. You're also going to be given the option to find something more, and I guarantee you will."

  "Oh, please." Spittle sprayed from Jed's lips. "You can't possibly think I've done something so dreadful it held me back. Sadie, you've known me all my life."

  "It's not necessarily something you've done. It might be something you know that could help someone else, or it might be something you witnessed. There are lots of reasons. You've got to figure it out so we can work on it."

  Sadie watched the same soul-searching creep over Jed's face as it did every other crosser forced to perform a quick sweep of their life. Most crossers stumbled and lingered over guilt. Sorting guilt from fact
wasted precious time. It corroded the ability to make a sound decision and most often had nothing to do with the reason they did not cross over.

  "Who made up these rules?" Jed pursed his lips in challenge before adding, "Show me where it says I've got thirty days or why I have to make a decision."

  "They didn't give me a manual so I don't have anything to show you. I learned it from the man who trained me." Sadie nodded firmly at Jed. "You're going to have to believe me. This isn't a game."

  Not only had Sadie not been given an instruction manual, but the assignment lasted a lifetime. She had to depend on past experiences to guide her crossers. Because each new crosser presented a different quandary, her mental wheelbarrow spilled over with information she needed to pass on to Aanders.

  If only she could ignore them. She often wondered what penalty would befall her if she didn't help the crossers. A lightning strike? Being imprisoned in drab beige clothing for the rest of her life? She didn't want to find out. If she didn't guide the crossers through their death decisions in the allotted time, they risked slipping into oblivion. Their deaths would have been in vain. Sadie resented the responsibility.

  "Believe you? I don't know what to believe. I'm here in a hospital gown talking about crossing over to the other side and every time I look at you all I see is…," Jed searched for the right words, "a weird pink get-up you've got on and a worm tattooed on your stomach."

  "That's not a worm. It's an asp." Sadie lifted her shirt. "See. It's Cleopatra's asp. What a grand movie. I loved it, didn't you?"

  "Do you mean to tell me you showed Jed your tattoo?" Disgust oozed in Jane's tone. "What's wrong with you? Nobody wants to look at a gnarly old tattoo. You're sixty-four years old, for Pete sakes. Why don't you show some respect and quit dressing like a bimbo?"

  "I know more about respect than I care to know. That's all Nan talks about at the mortuary. Respect this, respect that. She acts like my mother."

  "At least she got you to quit calling them stiffs." Jane set two plates on the table and then a third one for Mr. Bakke.

  "That's what they are, aren't they?"

  "I think Nan prefers 'dearly departed.'" Jane rotated each dish until the biggest ivy leaf sat squarely in the bottom rim of the plate. She added flatware to each place setting. "Aanders? Would you like to join us?"

  "Who's cooking?"

  "I am." Jane nodded with enthusiasm. "I'm trying a new recipe."

  "No thanks, I think I'll see what mom's fixing for supper."

  Jed leaned closer to examine Sadie's tattoo. "It looks like a dried-up worm to me." He gestured toward Sadie's hair. He opened his mouth, but shook his head instead. "You're asking a lot of me, Sadie. It's bad enough I have to accept my death, but one thing I can tell you is I don't have any unresolved issues."

  "You're a guest in Cabin 14," Aanders said.

  "So?"

  Jed's loud question startled Aanders. He straightened against the back of his chair. "Guests only end up in Cabin 14 if they have to take care of business. Listen to Sadie. She knows what she's taking about." Aanders pointed at Jed's feet. "If you don't have unresolved issues, why are you here in bare feet and a hospital gown? You don't even have underwear on."

  Jed tugged at the gown's hem and glared at Aanders.

  Sadie studied the crosser sitting in Jane's chair. Pleased at Jed's defiant glare, she said, "You're angry. That means reality's starting to sink in."

  "Wait a minute," Jane shrieked. "Do you mean to tell me Jed is sitting in my chair with a bare ass?" She crossed to the kitchen sink.

  "It's not polite to make a guest stand all day. Of course I let him sit there."

  "In his bare ass?" Jane's voice elevated an octave higher than Sadie thought physically possible.

  Jane turned toward the chair the Witt sisters had recognized as Jane's chair for the past forty years and waved the spray bottle. "Get out of my chair."

  Jed stood and moved toward the door.

  "What's the matter with you? That's no way to treat Jed."

  "Is he out of my chair yet?"

  "He's over by the door." Aanders retreated toward Jed.

  A fine disinfectant mist spritzed from the bottle. Jane wadded up a paper towel and continued to chastise her sister. "A bare ass. I can't believe you'd let someone sit their bare ass down on my chair."

  "That's not the first…"

  "Aanders," Sadie interrupted, wagging a warning finger at the young man.

  "Don't let him sit down again until I get one of Mr. Bakke's old robes. He can wear it when he's in the cabin." Jane disappeared into her bedroom before returning with a brown plaid robe.

  "You'd better put it on." Sadie unfolded the robe and handed it to Jed.

  "Why? She can't see me anyway."

  "Just do it. We'll never hear the end of it if you don't."

  Jed slipped one arm through a sleeve and strained his other arm backward to maneuver into the garment. Stitches popped along the arm seam. "I didn't realize Mr. Bakke was such a runt." Gazing down at the twelve inch gap separating the front robe panels he struggled to get the fabric to meet in the middle. He looked up at Sadie. "This is ridiculous. I look like an idiot."

  "Wow." Sadie stared at the lumbering doughboy standing in front of her. The robe's belt crossed over the center of Jed's chest under his armpits.

  "Does it fit?" Jane glared at her sister while waiting for an answer.

  As Jed sat down in a different chair, the robe raised up exposing his butt. He shifted back and forth before looking up and shrugging.

  "It's perfect."

  "How long do I have to wear this blasted thing?"

  Sadie glanced sideways at Jane and watched her sister place the spray bottle back under the sink. She lowered her voice. "Not long. As soon as she leaves the room, I'll hide it. As long as the robe touches you, Jane can't see it. When you take it off, I'll tuck it out of sight until Aanders can hide it at the mortuary."

  Jed loosened the ties while he watched Jane return to the recliner where she picked up the remote.

  "How come he's a death coach?" Jed nodded in Aanders' direction. "Isn't he too young?"

  "Yes I am." Aanders shifted and glanced at Sadie. "At least I think I'm too young." His blond bangs hung low and twitched as he blinked. "I don't like being one either. It's too complicated. Sadie said I don't have a choice."

  Eleven-year-old Aanders stared at Jed, slumped low in his chair, and stretched his long legs toward the table. Tall and lanky at five-foot seven, Aanders had inherited his mother's slim build and Scandinavian features. He bore no resemblance to his father's squat features.

  "Does your mom know you're a death coach?"

  "Nah. She doesn't know. She doesn't know Sadie's one either."

  "What about your dad?"

  "I haven't seen him in five years. I've talked to him a few times on the phone, but Mom doesn't like it when he calls."

  "Are you talking about your dad?" Jane looked toward Aanders.

  "Yeah. Jed wanted to know if Dad knows I'm a death coach."

  Sadie watched as Jed glanced from Jane to Aanders. He appeared to focus more on his surroundings and she sensed his disbelieving fog begin to lift.

  Jed leaned forward. "I owe you an apology, Sadie. When people said your pod didn't have any peas, I believed them. Now it makes sense. It's not imaginary friends you talk to, is it?"

  "No more imaginary than you." Sadie smiled and tapped at her earring, setting the silver sailboats in motion.

  "So what's this unresolved issue I'm supposed to deal with?"

  "That's what we have to figure out. I'll help you." Aanders pulled his chair closer to the table and propped his chin on his fists.

  "I'm not going to listen to a kid. I want Sadie to help me."

  "Remember when the Fossum family died in a car accident about a half a year ago?" When Jed nodded his recollection, Sadie continued, "Then you must also remember it wasn't an accident. They were murdered."

  "How can I forget? Th
e whole family died."

  "Who do you think convinced me to investigate? Aanders did. He insisted it wasn't an accident."

  Jane pressed the mute button on the remote. "Are you telling Jed how Aanders helped solve the murder?"

  "Well now I don't have to, do I? You just did." Sadie sighed in exasperation. "I'm trying to explain that Aanders has more insight than Jed realizes."

  "I thought Deputy Friborg solved the murder," Jed said.

  "Everyone does." Sadie gestured a hand toward Aanders. "One of the family members who died in the accident became a crosser and told Aanders about the murder. Aanders insisted I check it out."

  "How did you get Deputy Friborg to believe you're a death coach?"

  "I never told him."

  "Then how did you tell him about the murders?"

  "That doesn't matter. After you rest, we need to figure out what held you back. I have a good inkling, but want you to think about it first. Maybe your idea will match mine."

  "Rest? I don't want to rest."

  "You're strong now, but during your thirty days your strength will diminish. You need to be mindful. There's still so much I haven't told you. You not only have to resolve your issue, but you have to find a way back through the tunnel of light. Before you cross over, though, you have to make your declaration."

  Jed shook his head and grumbled under his breath. He looked at Aanders and then back at Sadie. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about. Quit pussy-footing. Lay it out so I know what I'm dealing with."

  "Maybe Jed was held back to solve his sister's disappearance." Jane thumbed through the television channels as she looked at her sister.

  "I thought you had errands to run," Sadie retorted, her icy glare sending a warning. "I thought you wanted to stop by the bakery? You said you craved powdered-sugared donuts."

  "And miss this? Are you kidding?"

  "My sister? What does Celeste have to do with this? She disappeared over fifteen years ago."

  "Bingo. Disappeared is the key. Do you think maybe you were held back to solve her disappearance? Have you thought about her since you got here?" Sadie waited for Jed's reply.

  "Thought about her? There isn't a day I haven't thought about her since she went missing. The last time I saw her I remember her black hair swinging around her shoulders as she turned to leave. She always had a spark in her eyes." Jed paused and stared out the window. "Come to think of it, Celeste never said good-bye. Instead she'd grin and say, 'Later', like she couldn't wait for the future."