Goodbye. Hello.

I most certainly did not feel well, not well, at all. Everything was hinky — my mind was all fuzzy, light from the sun blinded me, my skin was all itchy, I was dizzy as hell. And I had a migraine to beat all migraines — the worst ever. I was in rough shape.

What the heck happened? I asked myself.

I squinted my eyes, and looked around. I had no idea where I was. A city, for sure, but I didn’t know which one. My scrambled brain couldn’t come up with a name. 

I stood on the sidewalk, people streaming around me. I felt so weak — I needed to sit down. I crossed the street, and entered a small park. I found a bench and sat there, willing my mind to clear.  

A huge wave of nausea attacked my gut, and vomited right where I sat. I was so embarrassed.

What the hell’s the matter with me?

I had no answer.

I sat quietly for maybe an hour, and I started to feel a bit better. And the vomiting had stopped, so there was that.

Baby steps, Eliza, baby steps.

I tried to remember, but nothing was clear.

Okay, think, Eliza. 

That’s right! I knew my name — Eliza Jenkins. I looked around. Now I recognized where I was — downtown, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the building where I had my office was around the corner. Why did I have an office? Because I’m a .. I’m a … That’s it! I’m a lawyer. A … an environmental lawyer. Yay! I mentally high-fived myself. 

Okay, things are coming together.

I sobered. But how had I gotten here? I racked my brain. Nothing.

I patted the pockets of my jeans. Uh-oh. No identification, no money, no cards. And no phone. I was so screwed. I started to cry.

I felt someone looking at me — a woman was seated across the gravel path that bisected the park. 

“Can I help you?” I asked between sniffles.

She was around my age, maybe early thirties. She had dark hair pulled into a topknot. She was wearing black jeans, a retro Bob Marley tee, a black blazer, and a pair of Chuck Taylors on her feet. She had a gigantic messenger bag on the seat beside her.

Without saying a word, she took out her phone, and plugged in a pair of earbuds.

She fiddled with the phone for a second and said, “Are you alright?”

“No. Not really.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked. “I’m a police officer. Maybe I can help.” She pulled out her badge, and waved it in my general direction. 

I didn’t reply.

“Can I join you — you know, so we don’t have to yell at each other?” She smiled.

I nodded, and she gathered up her bag, and joined me on my bench.

“I’m Bethany Yu,” she said. “Call me Annie.”

“I’m Eliza Jenkins.” I held out my hand in greeting. Instead Bethany — no, Annie — avoided my gaze, and looked down at her phone. Rude, I thought, but whatever.

We sat in silence. 

“So,” she said, still looking at her phone. “What happened?”

I answered truthfully. “I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe I can help,” she said, eyes roaming around, only lighting on my face occasionally. She had serious eye contact issues. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Don’t know what?” I asked, puzzled. 

“Okay,” she said. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“What business is it of yours?” Cop or not cop, I was getting annoyed.

“Just humour me, okay? I’m trying to help you.”

I thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything.” Why couldn’t I remember anything?

“Okay, think back. Do you remember anything from today, or last night?”

I was beginning to feel anxious — not at Annie, but because I couldn’t remember anything.

“You’ve had a, uh, trauma,” she said, eyes looking away from me, focussing on the traffic on the other side of the small parkette.

“A trauma? How do you know I’ve had a ‘trauma’?”

Annie paused. “Touch the area at the base of your skull.”

I did as instructed. My hand came away with blood on it.”

“Oh my God! What happened to me?” I said, looking at my fingers in disbelief.

“You’ve been shot.”

“I need to get to the hospital!” I yelled.

“It won’t help.”

I turned to face her. “It won’t help? I’m bleeding to death, here. I need medical assistance. Call nine-one-one. Now!” 

Annie just shook her head.

I looked around frantically. People were just walking by, not paying attention to either of us. 

“Help me!” I cried. 

No one stopped, no one looked in my direction. 

“Why won’t anyone help me?” I cried again, panic overtaking me. 

Annie looked at me. “Because they can’t see you.”

“Can’t see me? What do you mean can’t they see me? I’m right here!”

I looked around me. She was right. Not one person was looking at me, except Annie. 

This is not good, Eliza. Not good at all.

“Why can’t people see me?”

She looked up at the sky, then back to me.

“People can’t see you because you’re dead.”

“Nonsense!” I shouted. It was an absurd statement. She could not only see me, but she was talking to me! She stuck her hand out, and it went through me.

“How?” I whispered.

“My partner and I responded to your house today about eight a.m. We’re homicide detectives. Apparently, you’re always in the office before seven every morning. When your staff arrived at work, and you weren’t there, they were worried because you’d been receiving death threats tied to the class action suit against the C3 Chemical Company.

“So, the dispatcher sent an officer to your home for a wellness check. When he looked in the window, he saw you were laying facedown on the carpet in your front foyer. The front door was unlocked, so he entered in case you were still alive. But you had already died. I’m sorry.”

“How did you find me here?” I asked.

“This park is right across the street from the Forensic Sciences building. I just attended your, uh, autopsy, and I recognized you.” A slight blush infused Annie’s cheeks. 

She was embarrassed to be talking to me about this. I could understand that. I didn’t like what she saying, and I didn’t want to believe what she was saying, but I understood.

“Do you see all dead people?”

She threw her head back and looked up at the sky. “Oh, God no. I would kill myself if I saw every dead person. No, I just see some people, some of the time. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how. It’s mostly victims of crime. But not always.” She paused again. “It’s been like this since I was a teenager. I know it sounds cliche, but it’s the reason I became a cop.”

I looked at the stress in Annie’s face. I felt a little sorry for her, but, hey, at least she wasn’t dead.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

She picked up her phone, and moved it closer to her face. Now I understood. She didn’t want people to think she was talking to herself. Clever.

“I think we should go back to your place. I have the key. Maybe going back there will help you remember.”

I don’t know how I got there, but I was at my home — I recognized it. When Annie arrived, she was on the phone, for real this time. She hung up as she entered the house.

“That was my partner, Jake. He’s going to be here in about twenty minutes. He doesn’t see dead people, and he doesn’t know that I see dead people. I’d like to keep it that way. So, please don’t expect me to answer you when he’s here.”

Annie and I stood in the front foyer. She pulled out her phone, and showed me a photo. 

“You were found with your back to the door, as if you were walking away from the door.”

I looked at the screen. It was definitely me. Definitely dead me.

“I’m really dead, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Damn. I had so much I wanted to do. Learn to play the violin, hike Machu Picchu, see the Aurora Borealis, learn to speak French, bungee jump off a bridge, read War and Peace ... Now I won’t have the chance.” 

“Maybe you can help me find out who did this to you.” Annie paused. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

My memory had been coming back a little bit at a time but there were still giant gaps that seemed to be shrouded in fog, with memories indistinct and fuzzy. I had been trying to remember what had happened to me, but with no luck.

“Okay, I remember going to work on Tuesday — I had a deposition with some executives from C3. That took the entire day. I remember that there was another anonymous threat sent to the office, again. Cassandra, my office manager showed me.”

“We saw it.”

“Okay. So … “ I tried to concentrate. I looked at Annie. “That’s it. Sorry.”

We sat there in silence. Finally Annie spoke up.

“Okay, from the position of your body, it looks like you let someone in. You were found a couple of feet from the door. It looks like you trusted them enough to turn your back on them, and walk towards the living room.The person was able to get right up behind you, and shoot you in the back of the head.” She looked at me. “I don’t think that this had anything to do with the death threats. This was someone you knew and trusted. Any ideas?” 

I was stunned. This hurt so much more than I thought it would. It was horrible when I thought it was an anonymous killer — maybe a hitman from C3. But, the idea of someone I knew killing me was overwhelming. Sadness enveloped me. What had I done to make a friend kill me?

Just then the front door opened and Annie’s partner, Jake, entered the house.

“What have we got?”

Annie got up from the couch, and walked toward Jake. 

“I think it was someone she knew.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Let’s look around.”

They disappeared deeper into the house. I could hear drawers opening and shutting, clothes being pushed aside in my closet.

“I’ll take the office,” said Annie. I met her there.

I watched her go through the papers on my desk. Something in my memory started to take shape.

“Where’s my phone?” I asked.

Annie looked at me, and whispered. “We didn’t find it. We’re subpoenaing your phone records.”

My phone was important. Something was on it. I couldn’t remember what.

“Look at my credit card receipts — my personal ones. I think there’s something there.” I could almost remember. I knew it was important. 

Think, Eliza, think!

Annie held up a folder labeled “Visa” and pulled out the top invoice. “Gas, Whole Foods, Hot Naan Indian food, Mr. Chow’s takeout, Bella Vita Italian food, Starbucks, gas, gas, more Whole Foods, Vintage Vinos, Door dash, Verizon … anything?” She looked at me. I shook my head, no.

“Hey, you say something?” Jake stuck his head into the room.

“No, sorry, just looking at bills, trying to see if anything jumps out at me.”

“Cool. I’m going down to the basement — see if there’s anything down there.”

“Good idea.” He backed out, and we could hear his footsteps moving towards the basement steps.

“Okay,” Annie whispered. “Last month … more Vintage Vinos, Whole Foods, Door Dash, more Door Dash, gas, H&M, A. S. Security and Surveillance, Costco … Wait! A. S. Security and Surveillance — is that important?”

I concentrated. “Yes! Yes! I … I … I had some additional security installed.”

Annie looked at me, hope in her eyes. “Here or at the office?” she asked.

“Uh . . . uh . . . something about cameras . . . ” I tried to think. It was so muddled. “Okay. Security. Something small . . . something small.” It was right there, on the periphery of my brain. “I’m sorry, Annie. I can’t remember.” I was crestfallen.

She looked at me, frustrated. “You have to remember. Please Eliza, This could be the clue that solves your murder.”

I looked at Annie’s face. Her intensity was daunting. 

“Okay,” she said. “You bought a camera from a security company. Why?”

I closed my eyes. My head was pounding so hard, I was afraid that it was going to explode. 

“Okay,” I said. “Cameras . . .”

Annie looked hopeful. “Did you have surveillance cameras installed?”

“Y-e-s. Yes I did. But where?” I thought about it for a minute. “There should be an invoice.”

She searched my files, and lo-and-behold, there was the invoice. She snatched it up and read it — spy cams installed, apparently all over the place.

“Wow,” said Annie. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you had cameras installed.” She looked down at the invoice. “You had over twenty cameras installed, here and at work.”

This was important. But I couldn’t quite put it together.

“Okay, so you had all cameras installed. Why? Because of the death threats?”

“Maybe. They are all over my home and office.” It was starting to make sense.

Annie looked at me. “So, how do you view at the recordings?”

That stumped me. Of course I needed to look at the recordings. 

Think, E;iza, think. Not so easy when you’re dead.

“Okay,” said Annie. “You must have been able to look at the recordings remotely. So, how?”

“Maybe on my phone?”

“You’re phone’s not here.”

“How about my laptop?”

“There's no laptop.”

“Damn.”

Annie looked at me, “So, it must be a remote access. How do you sign in and view your recordings?”

“I don't know.” In my mind (such as it was) I saw a yellow post-it note. Where was it . . .

“Look inside the middle drawer. My login is on a post-it stuck in my address book under ’S’.”

Annie opened the middle drawer, and grabbed my address book.

“Got it!” she exclaimed, flipping to the letter “S". 

She grabbed up her phone. User name, Eliza@law, password, c.c.c. My account appeared on her phone.

“I’ve got to let Jake know,” she said.“Jake! I got something!”

Within seconds he appeared. 

“Security cameras. Lots and lots of security cameras. I think this is going to break the case.”

I watched over Annie’s shoulder as they viewed the video.

“Oh my God!” said Annie.

“No shit!” said Jake.

I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe what I had seen. Of all the people . . .

“Wow,” said Jake.

“Yeah,” said Annie. “Who’d a thought?”

“Not me!” I said.

*****

I tried not to be intrusive. I watched the interview from the observation room.

“Why’d you kill Eliza, Cassandra?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We have you, on video, killing Eliza.”

“Impossible. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Annie flipped her phone around, and showed it to her. The images from the the surveillance cameras flashed across the screen.

Annie pointed to images on the phone. “That’s you. And that’s you. And that’s you, shooting her.”

Silence.

Annie placed a folder on the table, and removed the top two sheets, and placed them side by side, so that the suspect could read them. 

“We found these documents on your computer at home.”

“Impossible.”

“I know, it was encrypted, but we’ve got people. Very good people, who were able to crack it.” Annie looked across the table.

“Lawyer.”

“That’s your right.”

Jake left the room, so I popped in. I looked at my office manager, and friend.

“Why, Casandra, why?”

“Eliza wants to know why?”

“What do you mean, Eliza? She’s dead.”

“Yeah, but she’s here right now.”

“Impossible.”

"I'm not sure you know what that word means," said Annie.

“Tell her that when I hired her, she told me she really appreciated the opportunity because so many people had been reluctant to take a chance on someone with her background. Her father was an embezzler. She’d been caught up in his last scheme, but he pleaded guilty so that she wouldn’t be arrested.”

Annie relayed the information to Cassandra, verbatim. Cassandra paled.

“Anybody could have known that.”

“Remind her that she needs to water the plants in my house, in particular the tomato seedlings on the deck.”

Annie told her. Cassandra shut her eyes.

“Tell her I bought her birthday present. It’s in my desk drawer.” She told her.

“Oh my God,” Cassandra whispered. 

“Eliza wants to know why.”

“Money.” Cassandra paused. “I’ve been looting the client accounts She started asking questions a couple of weeks ago. I have taken almost nine hundred thousand. I couldn’t go to jail. So I started sending the death threats.”

I felt stricken. We were best friends.

“Tell her I would have helped her repay the money. I trusted her, and believed in her. Anything that she did could have been undone.”

Cassandra broke down and cried when I told her.

Annie arrested her. I watched as she was taken to Booking.

*****

Jake came back into the interview room.

“That was fantastic! I believed that there was another person in the room with you! Amazing! How did you know all that stuff?”

“Mostly from info from her house and office. Plus we had all the background info on Cassandra. I just winged it.”

“Well it worked. This interview was great! You got her to confess.”

Annie just smiled, and looked at me.

They left the room, and I just stood there. I was happy — well, as happy as a dead person can be. I knew what had happened, and the person responsible was going to jail.

I was starting to feel different. Lighter than I had felt previously. Things were indistinct. Nothing really seemed important anymore. I felt as if I had to go somewhere. I didn’t know where, just not here. I held up my hand, and I could see through it. Was this the end? Goodbye new friend, Annie . . .