Dead Confused: An Afterlife Adventures Novel, #10

By Jordaina Sydney Robinson

Bridget and Sabrina are considering a career change when a reporter brings them a case they can't refuse. 

 

A vandal is graffitiing a small area of Scarborough. Not earth shattering as cases go, but Bridget is certain the vandal is Petal, her newly-graduated-from-probation housemate. 

 

Already unsure of how they're going to get the reporter off Petal's trail, things go from bad to worse when Bridget finds a doubly dead guy sitting in front of some fresh graffiti. 

 

With a new Detective Johnson being far too understanding and suspects dropping dead at every turn, can Bridget and Sabrina unmask the murderer before the blame is pinned on Bridget's housemate?  

 

Afterlife Adventures Series:

#1 Beyond Dead

#2 Dead and Buried

#3 A Little More Dead

#4 Still Dead

#5 Utterly Dead

#6 Dead Completely

#7 Unexpectedly Dead

#8 Dead Investigations

#9 Wrongfully Dead

#10 Dead Confused 

#11 Finally Dead

#12 Dead Conclusion

 

In the same universe:

An Aurora North Exposé:

#1 The NOT Vampire Murders

#2 The NOT Ghostly Murders

#3 The NOT Witchy Murders

#4 The NOT Cursed Murders

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jordaina Sydney Robinson
• Release date: Jun 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227986344

Book preview

Chapter One

W hat’s on everyone’s agenda today? Oz said into the suffocating silence that was choking the life out of every gosh darn thing in the kitchen. 

Honestly, I didn’t know how I was still alive. Well, I wasn’t alive. Technically. Technically, I was dead. But I meant alive in terms of my afterlife life. That said, if this silence continued for much longer, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be alive in any life. 

After spending a bunch of my afterlife years running a detective agency with my best friend, Sabrina, she’d taught me the importance of not filling a silence. Especially when getting details from a client or interviewing a suspect. But I doubted she’d ever felt a silence like this one. We were eight days into it. It almost felt like I’d gone deaf. 

The only time anyone spoke in Oz’s presence now was for necessities and civilities. And it was the barest of civilities. The barest of civilities that they still managed to weaponise against Oz. And I say they because I was trying to be Switzerland in this whole mess. And yet, that seemed to mark me as an enemy to both sides. 

Petal, one of my housemates, had graduated from her probation nine days ago. We’d had a party. Oz, in his last act as her parole officer, had awarded her a framed graduation certificate. We’d had a lot of cake and sent her off into the world. Alone. None of us were happy about it. The party had been one of the saddest affairs I’d ever attended and I’d attended my own funeral.

On her first day as a free woman, Petal had come around for breakfast and Oz had told her that she wasn’t allowed in the house for the first six months of her post-graduation life because she was no longer a housemate and housemates were only supposed to socialise with housemates. 

Naturally, her response had been tears and our response had been—well. Our response had been to loudly and energetically disagree.  

The really uncomfortable thing about it was that I could understand the purpose behind the rule. Petal clinging onto her probation life was no different from clinging onto her alive life. Not that she did that. That was more of a me thing. But, alive or dead, clinging to the past was still clinging to the past. And I could understand the rule of not letting the recently graduated socialise with their old housemates as a way to force them into new friendships. 

That said, since another rule was that while you were on probation you weren’t allowed to socialise with anyone outside of your housemates, it was the equivalent of forcing someone to build a support system and then ripping it away. And then forcing them to start from scratch again when they were just as vulnerable as they had been when they’d first died. Maybe more so. Only this time, they had to build that new support system while living alone. The whole thing seemed ludicrous to me.

I could sort of understand Oz’s tough love of upholding that rule and not letting Petal back in the house. Of forcing her to learn and grow. And I could understand that her not being able to survive on her own outside the confines of her probation reflected negatively on his abilities as a parole officer. He was, after all, supposed to prepare us for life after the communal living situation. 

I understood all of that and still I didn’t care. I wasn’t entirely sure how we were going to fix the situation without negatively affecting Oz’s career as a parole officer, or forcing Petal to live alone, but we were going to work it out somehow. And it was going to have to be soon before the silence truly was the end of me. 

Can you please pass the salt? Pam asked no one in particular. 

No one in particular, except not Oz. Her tone was sharper than a razor. It had been that way ever since Oz had banned Petal from the house and was so at odds with her flowery sundresses and casually up swept grey hair she might as well have been wearing biker leathers and studded jewellery. 

Oz knew Pam had meant anyone but him and reached for the salt, anyway. Lucy beat him to it and snatched it out of his reach. She flicked her dark bobbed hair as if she were doing a sort of victorious hair toss, but without the hair length to really make it effective, and then passed the salt to Anna. 

Housemate? Lucy asked. Will you please pass this along to our other housemate at the end of the table?

"Absolutely, Housemate. Anna said and gave Lucy her practiced smile. Not the shark smile she usually used on our housemates, but a facsimile of a genuine smile. And it was the first time in forever I’d heard Anna call someone anything but hon". 

Anna turned to Kate, Anna’s long blonde Barbie-esque hair rippling down her back with the movement.

Housemate? Will you please pass this along to our housemate sitting next to you?

"It would be my pleasure, Housemate, Kate said and took the salt from Anna and passed it to Pam. There you go, Housemate." 

Before Petal had left, Kate had been experimenting with adding a little colour into her wardrobe, but ever since Petal had been banned from the house, she’d gone back to her all black ensembles. Even her hair. She had a sort of Meg Ryan type of pixie crop thing going on that used to have a blue sheen to it. For a while before that, there was a burgundy sheen. But now it was just flat black. As though even her hair was in mourning. 

Thank you. Pam flicked a pointed look in Oz’s direction. Housemate.

Pam salted her omelette with such a light sprinkle that it wasn’t even worth the effort as far as I could tell. And then offered the salt to Zac.

Would you care for any salt, Housemate? Pam asked, daring Zac, a non-housemate, to play along. Everyone stopped eating to watch him. 

Thank you. He took the salt from her. Housemate.

Really? Oz asked him. You don’t even live here. They’re not even your housemates.

Lucy jumped on that comment. "And yet he’s still allowed to have breakfast here."

It’s nepotism, Housemate, Anna told her while finger-combing her long blonde hair in front of her.

If she wasn’t leaving red lipstick on tea mugs, it was her playing with her hair over a plate of food. It was as if no one had ever taught her any type of manners.   

It’s funny how he’s willing to break the rules when it suits him, Pam agreed. 

Zac’s attention was focused on the way Pam was twirling her butter knife. Considering she was late sixties and smiling it should’ve looked harmless, but there was something decidedly ominous about it. 

Zac leaned in and whispered to me, "I know they’re mad at him, but I’m not in the line of fire here. Right? She’s not about to butter me to death?"

As long as you stay on their side, you’ll be fine, I told him. Probably.

That’s reassuring, he muttered and returned to eating his omelette in silence and not making eye contact with anyone. 

It’s the rules and it’s for her own good, Oz stressed. How is she supposed to learn to survive on her own if she keeps coming back here?

Since when is wanting to spend time with family a crime? Kate asked, eyeing Zac.

Zac was Oz’s brother who’d been recently released from reeducation after being falsely convicted of murder, much like Kate. And no one needed reminding that he and Oz were family. They looked so similar it actually disturbed me a little. They both had the same broad shouldered, athletic build, same strong jaw covered in stubble. Same eyes. Same style of dress. Same Australian accent. But there were some differences. 

Oz’s eyes were more of a green-blue, compared to Zac’s deep blue eyes. Oz’s stubble was more casual and Zac’s stubble was more cultivated. Oz’s hair was short and messy, whereas Zac’s hair was shoulder length and professionally lightened. They both wore shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops, but Oz was a camo shorts and faded band T-shirts kind of guy. Zac had a more of a relaxed preppy type of look. 

All in all, they were two very different sides of the same coin. 

I’m not saying it’s a crime. The frustration in Oz’s voice making it come out as a growl. I’m saying that she needs to learn how to stand on her own two feet so she can be a functioning member of society. She can’t continue to depend on you.

Pretty sure that’s what family does, I said. 

Oz arched an eyebrow at me in an expression that said Et tu, Brutus?.

I shrugged. I’m merely pointing out that if your brother can hang out with us a few mornings a week, which we’re all very happy about. I patted Zac’s arm in reassurance. Then Petal should be able to as well. 

Zac isn’t an ex-housemate or my ex-parolee, Oz clarified.

No, he’s just a convicted murderer, I countered and then winced at Zac. Sorry. I know you were exonerated, but it kind of weakens my point.

He waved me off. You’re fine.

I don’t know what you want me to do, Oz said. I don’t make the rules, Bridget.

"I know that, Oz." I stressed his name in a way that had Zac whistling under his breath. 

Oz stared at me for a long moment and then faced the table again. He forced levity into his voice. What are everyone’s plans for today?

I found a lighter on the street yesterday, Kate said with a smile. Her black lipstick starkly contrasting with her very white teeth, which made her smile look more like an animal baring their teeth than a pleasant expression. I thought I might set some stuff on fire. 

That’s sounds like fun, Oz agreed. And who’s planning on running with scissors today? Anyone?

Why would we run with scissors? Lucy asked, eyeing Kate’s hair with an envious expression and absentmindedly fondling the back of her short, dark bob. That’s almost as stupid as banning a family member from her home. 

Oz nodded and exhaled. Tea? More tea?

Are you making, hon? Anna asked him. Because that’s a no.

Bridget is making, I’m assisting. Oz gathered up everyone’s mugs from the table.

Bridget is eating her breakfast, I said as he made his way to the sink and started rinsing the mugs. 

Bridget is making, Oz repeated.

Bridget is letting her breakfast go cold, I muttered and rested my knife and fork on my plate.

Are you done? Zac asked, pointing to my plate with his knife. 

Jeez. Would you jump into my grave that fast? I asked and pushed my plate toward him.

Depends. He shrugged. Would you have snacks in there?

I don’t know why, but that question caught me off guard. Would I have snacks in my grave? My grave or my coffin? I mean, it made sense to a degree, in that it made sense that you should hide snacks everywhere. But it wasn’t like dead people hung around their graves. And would I really want to store snacks with my rotting corpse? And even if I hid them in the six feet of soil above my coffin, I’d have to dig through the soil to get to them. So that would be inconvenient. And they’d be covered in soil. And how long would they even last?

Initially, I want to say no, but I also feel that’s cutting off my options somehow, I said.

I guess it depends what type of snack you’re thinking of. He scraped the remains of my omelette on to his plate as he spoke. If we’re talking⁠—

Bridget? Oz pointed to the kettle. 

I think the slave master wants you, Zac whispered too quietly for Oz to hear. 

I made a noncommittal noise and traipsed across the kitchen to the kettle.

Oz had lined the mugs up in front of the kettle. He’d even quickly washed Anna’s mug and removed the lipstick smear. At least I had him trained in some areas. 

I could use a little support. He spoke quietly. I don’t know why he bothered. They might not have actually been able to hear, but everyone at the table knew what we were talking about. And which way the conversation was going.

I imagine you could, I agreed easily. 

So? 

So, what? I spoke as quietly as he was. I think you’re wrong.

It’s the rules, Bridget. And it’s really in her best interests.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that not allowing Petal to see her friends—her best friends—for an entire year is in Petal’s best interests, I hissed at him while adding tea bags and sugar to the mugs. He stared at me but said nothing. I nodded. Exactly. I’m sure that is a fantastic rule in general, but you created a family here. And now you’re excluding one member of that family for some arbitrary rule that doesn’t really apply in this situation. So, you know how I’m going to support you? I’m going to help you find a way to let Petal spend time here with us that doesn’t break your stupid rules."

Oz shrugged. If that’s how you want to support me, I guess I’ll take what I can get.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I had a very clear sense that I had just walked myself right where he’d wanted me to go. 

Why couldn’t you have just said, ‘Hey, Bridget, I need your help with this’?

Because I’m their parole officer and I can’t be seen to be finding workarounds. Not even by them.

Just so you know, I said haughtily, because I didn’t like being told what to do, I was already working on it.

Knew you would be. I’m just giving you a hurry up nudge.

A hurry up nu— I snapped my mouth shut before I said something really rude. I dislike you sometimes, you know?

Only sometimes? He grinned at me. You must be softening in your old age.

My old age? Why not just call me fat, too?

Because I’m not Anna, he whispered. 

Or Madame Zorina, I added. Make an excuse and go away so I can talk to everyone.

Just nothing that’s wildly illegal, okay? he whispered. "Oh, and please get that lighter off Kate. I’ve no idea if she’s kidding or not."

"Yeah, okay. I’ll be the one to stick my hand in the crocodile’s open mouth," I muttered while pouring boiling water into the mugs, but he wasn’t paying me any attention. 

Everyone! Oz called as he stepped into the middle of the kitchen. I have to leave a little early today. Plates in the sink when you’re done. All of you, have an amazing day. I want to hear all about it later. 

Without waiting for the slew of mean comments that would likely have followed that announcement, he strolled out of the back door. Everyone waited a few seconds and then the blanket of stressful silence dissipated. 

What’s the plan? Lucy asked as she came over to grab a couple of mugs and help me hand them out. 

What’s the plan for what? Zac looked around the table. 

What’s the plan to get Petal back, hon? Anna explained. But this time hon sounded like idiot.

Oz walked back into the kitchen and everyone paused in what they were doing. Not that anyone had been doing anything wrong, but he just had that effect on people. Especially since we were about to be planning some wrong stuff. 

Zac? Come on. Oz jerked his head in the direction of the garden. I’ll walk you to work.

Zac glanced around the kitchen at us and then quickly got up from the table. Yeah. Okay. That’s a good plan.

He dumped his plate in the sink and all but ran out of the kitchen door. I guessed he was done with any even potentially illegal behaviour after being recently released from reeducation. Couldn’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed, but it was probably for the best. His relationship with Oz was on the mend, but I had the sense there was still a distance to go.

So? Pam asked. The plan?

I am currently planless, I admitted, but I have several irons in the fire.

That was wildly untrue. I had no irons in the fire. I had no irons. I didn’t even have a fire.  

Like, what, hon? Anna asked and I wasn’t entirely sure whether she saw through my big fat lie or not. 

You know, I took a sip of my tea to buy me a few seconds to try to work out how to finish that sentence. But I was struggling. 

Is it anything to do with that mentoring programme you were rambling about the other day, hon? Anna asked. "I’m fairly certain you got all the details of it wrong because you’re stupid, but it did sound like it had potential."

I didn’t want to say too much about it until I’ve fully investigated all the pitfalls, I said with a nod, not quite able to believe that Anna had, very selflessly, thrown me a lifeline. Even if she had delivered it with an insult. 

That’s sounds promising, Pam said. Will it mean Petal gets to live here again?

To live here? I repeated, again trying to buy time, but Anna stepped in again.

From what Bridget was saying, there are days and days of paperwork to fill out, hon. For her as the sponsor of the programme, for Oz as Bridget’s parole officer and sponsor, for Petal as the prospective mentor and for Kate as the mentee. And tests. Lots and lots of tests.

That sounds like a lot of work, Lucy said.

It does, doesn’t it? I agreed, suddenly very clear on why Anna was happy to hand this off to me. 

But you know we’ll help, Pam added.

Why am I the mentee? Kate asked. 

Because you’re a crazy person, hon, Anna said. And the newest addition to the house. And you’re struggling with reintegration with us non-psycho upstanding members of society.

Kate looked at me, her face devoid of expression. I gave her a half smile, a mini one-shoulder shrug and tilted my head in Anna’s direction. Her attention jumped from me to a grinning Anna and I assumed Kate correctly interpreted that it was Anna’s suggestion of how to get Petal back. Because of that, Kate didn’t immediately start throwing knives, forks and other pointy things at Anna’s face.

What do we need to do to help? Pam asked. 

I’m still working my way through all the things we’re going to need to do and have and the consequences, but as soon as I have it all lined up, I’ll let you know, I said.

Is this a ‘for certain’ thing? Lucy asked. "Something that will definitely work out?"

I don’t think anything is a certainty, I said with a shake of my head and not just because this was the first time I’d heard about it. This is the afterlife, after all. 

But this is something that has a very good chance of working? Lucy stressed. 

Yes, hon. It will work out fine, Anna said with an alarming amount of certainty. If Bridget can manage to not mess it up. And as long as Petal stays out of trouble, it will all work out.

Why on earth would you say that? I asked Anna.

What? She frowned at me. I was only saying⁠—

You were only jinxing us is what you were doing. I threw my hands in the air. Why does no one understand how this works?

What? Anna asked again. I was only saying that⁠—

No! I pointed at her. "No. What’s wrong with you? Do not say it again."

Anna groaned. You’re so superstitious. 

I know, right, I agreed easily. It’s almost as if every time someone has said ‘as long as everything goes to plan’, nothing has ever gone to plan.

Well, that won’t happen this time, Pam reassured me.

What are you doing? I shrieked and then gestured with an open hand at Pam but looked at Kate. What’s wrong with these people?

Don’t worry, Bridget. The corners of Kate’s mouth kicked up in the smallest of smiles. It’ll all work out.

Really? I asked her. Really?

What? Kate widened her eyes in faux innocence. 

I’m going to work. I gestured around the table. If I don’t survive the day, know that it’s all your fault. Oh. I pointed at Kate. Don’t set anything on fire with that lighter.

"With that lighter specifically?" Kate asked. 

With that lighter. With any lighter. With any fire making device. With any anything that could accidentally or on purpose create fire. I swiped a hand through the air. Just no to the fire, okay? No fire.

Kate shrugged and sipped her tea. Can’t make no promises. I’m a crazy person. Remember?

"She called you crazy. I pointed at Anna. Not me."

"So I can set Anna on fire? Kate clarified. That’s what you’re saying?"