Author's Note: Yay! Chapter ten! Keep reading! I'm not sure I quite pulled off the crime processing part but I did some research on it (thanks, Google!) and I think I did ... okay... :D Enjoy!

'Oh my God.'

I gritted my teeth and buried my head deeper under my pillow.

'Oh my God.'

I shut my eyes tight and tried unsuccessfully to drown out Alice's voice.

'Oh… my God.'

'Alice.' I lifted my head up and glared at Alice, who was sitting by the bay window and hugging her knees. 'Could you please shut up?'

Apparently Alice didn't hear me, because she let out another, 'Oh… my… God.'

'Arghh.' I groaned and slumped down, trying to think.

'Leave her be, she's just seen a close friend die.' Rosalie snapped, eyes rimmed red and her hands rhythmically patting Angela on her back. 'Cut her some slack, will you?'

'Just let me think for a moment.' I said levelly, burying my head back in the comfy midst of my pillows. I was aching - literally aching; my muscles were completely worn out - for a good snooze but I was struggling not to fall asleep.

'What a day, huh?' Angela said in a crackly voice, pushing back her straggly hair. I didn't know if ghosts were capable of getting baths but Angela definitely needed one. And she was right, it'd been one heck of a day.

'Oh my God.'

'What're you thinking about?' Rosalie asked begrudgingly.

'Trying to figure things out.' I rolled over on my back, sighing. 'Which is why I --'

'Figure what out?' a male voice cut smoothly through my conversation. I didn't even bother to look to see who it was; I already knew.

'Who the hell are you?' Alice yelped and jumped off the bay window seat, freaked.

'Edward Cullen, I died in 1918 of the Spanish Influenza, I currently reside in Bella's bedroom.' I could practically hear the stupid smirk in his voice.

'This guy lives in your room?' Angela's eyes just about popped out of her eye sockets.

'Unfortunately.' I said.

'You never told us that!' Alice accused, apparently over her endless "Oh my God" spiel.

'I wasn't aware it was very important.' I rolled my eyes in the dark, flushing a little.

'Of course it's important!'

'It really isn't.'

'So, what're you ladies figuring out, again?' Edward leaned against the bay window frame, face partially silhouetted in the dark. I could kind of see his jaw line and nose, but that was it. I was a little disappointed, to be honest. I mean, I'm not saying I'm feeling anything for him, but it would've cheered me up a little in a very shallow way if I got to see an Adonis after such a hellish day.

'Figuring out exactly what happened this afternoon, that's what.' I grumpily sat up and dangled my feet over the edge of my bed, watching the now scratched and chipped turquoise varnish glint in the moonlight. Then I remembered - Edward didn't know anything.

'What happened this afternoon?' he asked, interest piqued.

I rolled over again, not caring (much) that my butt probably looked completely horrendous stuck up in the air like that. 'Blearghhhhhh.

'I'll explain.' Alice volunteered readily.

--

Seven Hours Earlier

'Fucking hell.' I swore, suddenly feeling very out of breath. 'That's… that's a person down there. A person. On the beach. Fucking hell. It's not moving.'

'What the hell are we still doing standing around?' Rosalie screeched. Before I could blink, the three of them magically disappeared. I looked down, and saw their shimmery figures now crowded around the person's stationary form.

Shit! It's all fine and dandy for ghosties who can just materialize anywhere they want to but I have to figure out some way to get down there.

Argh, where do I go now?

'Bethany!' someone screamed. My head whipped around instinctively, and I saw Lauren's blonde head poke out from the jagged edges of the huge, shattered window. Even from a distance I could see that Lauren was this close to completely freaking out and hyperventilating. Okay, so that rules out Lauren as being the possibly dead on (gulp) on the beach below. 'Bethany!'

'My name is Bella!'

'Oh God, Bethany, I… I--' she yelled, shaking visibly. 'Could you please get over here? As quickly as possible? Please?'

--

I thundered up a very long flight of shiny marble stairs, wildly trying to remember which way it was to Lauren's room.

'Shit!' I swore out loud for no reason at all. I was very lost.

Well. How nice. A person just fell off a seventy-foot cliff, a teenage girl is very close to losing it and I'm here, wandering around in a gigantic mansion, unable to do anything productive.

They should revoke my mediator license, honestly.

'What on earth is going on here?' a very irate voice called out. I almost gave myself whiplash turning around to see who it was. 'Here I was, taking my afternoon nap and this god-awful crash wakes me up--'

'Mrs. Mallory!' I gasped, nearly crying in relief. 'Where's Lauren's room?'

Her red eyes stared. 'Don't tell me you still can't find it!'

'Mrs. Mallory… something bad's happened. Like, really, really bad. I need to get to Lauren's room, now. You should to, now that I think about it.'

'What's happened now?' she grumbled, irritated.

'Just show me Lauren's room.'

--

'Jesus fucking Christ --' Mrs. Mallory started to swear when she led me up to the hallway where Lauren's room was. I'm guessing she'd seen the broken window. 'The window's destroyed! Who the hell did this? Do you have any idea how much that much glass cost? If that boyfriend of Lauren's has anything to do with this-- darling! What're you doing, crouching by the window!? Get away, Lauren! You could fall!'

I hurried down the hallway, heart thudding like crazy.

'Don't go near that window, you stupid girl!'

'Bethany!' Lauren let out a weak cry. I didn't bother to correct her.

'Lauren, honey, how did this happen?'

'Mrs. Mallory? You might want to get a look at this.' I gulped, my sneakers crackling ominously on splintered glass. I was clutching the sides of the window, making sure I didn't end up like… whoever it was down below. But I was pretty sure what had just transpired wasn't an accident. Not a chance.

'What?' Mrs. Mallory stumbled over.

I pointed, a light breeze tugging at my hair.

'What do you want me to see--' her voice trailed off. Lauren's sobs grew louder.

Mrs. Mallory turned away, hand clapped to her mouth. 'I'll get the cops.'

My hands were bleeding when I finally felt calm enough to unclench my hands from the jagged window frame.

--

'Bella!' Angela screamed and waved us over. Well, waved me over. I highly doubt Mrs. Mallory and Lauren could see three recently deceased teenage girls huddled around another soon-to-be deceased person. 'Over here!'

'There!' Mrs. Mallory picked up her skirts and ran. Lauren lagged behind, running an letting out half-formed sobs at the same time.

'Come one, hurry up!' I grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

'Bethany!' she moaned, collapsing into the sand.

'Bella!'

'Bella!' she finally amended. 'I have-- I have something to tell you.'

'Not now!' I forcibly tugged her up.

'It's important!' Lauren wailed, looking quite distressed.

'Can it please wait?' I let her go and ran after Mrs. Mallory myself, ignoring Lauren's other cries.

'He doesn't look too good.' Alice said in a strangled voice, stepping back to give me more room.

I knelt down in front of Tyler's terrifyingly broken body, feeling like heaving up all over the sand. I really didn't want to, anyhow. The sand was really pretty. You know, all white and stuff.

'Oh my God.' Mrs. Mallory stared, frozen.

Tyler had evidently landed face-down in the sand with his limbs splayed out around him. There were cuts all over his hands (lacerations by the glass, probably) and both his legs looked very broken. He wasn't bleeding, either, but that could mean internal bleeding. He didn't appear to be breathing. Alice was right, he didn't look too good.

I gently pressed two fingers to Tyler's neck, desperately feeling for a pulse.

'Don't move him!' I snapped at Rosalie, who was valiantly trying to push Tyler over so he could breathe.

'I'm not touching him!' Mrs. Mallory cried.

Lauren had caught up now, and she sank to her knees, panting and sniffling. 'How--how is he?'

'Not looking too good.' I echoed Alice's words grimly. I didn't feel anything beneath my fingers, not even a faint judder. 'Wait--'

There it was! Probably a pulse weaker than a week-old corpse's, but there it was!

'He's alive!' I announced.

'Mrs. Mallory! We're here!' I turned; a bunch of people were running over, most of them with the yellow words FPD (Forks Police Department?) stamped across their backs.

'Step away from the body, please.' a stormy-faced man shooed us away and quickly started surrounding Tyler's body with "Police Line - Do Not Cross" black and yellow tape, sealing us off.

'He's still alive!' I told a medic that was hurrying over to Tyler's body. 'He still has a pulse!'

The medic turned on me like a hawk. 'Have you touched the body?'

'Only to feel his pulse --'

'Good. Leave the rest of it to us, miss.'

All of us -- me, Lauren, Mrs. Mallory, Alice, Rosalie and Angela -- watched silently as more and more people started swarming around the beach.

'This cannot be happening.' Mrs. Mallory said faintly. She reached over to give Lauren a shaky hug. 'Oh, darling, you've know idea how grateful I am that it isn't you lying on the beach there--'

'Don't!' Lauren screeched loudly, pushing Mrs. Mallory away. 'Stop!'

'Stop doing what?' Mrs. Mallory was bewildered.

'Mrs. Mallory, Miss Mallory?' a nice-looking woman strode over, wearing a neat blue uniform. 'I'm Officer Simone Wheeler from FPD and I'm an crime scene technician - that is, to say, that I'm the one who interviews witnesses. I'm very sorry this has happened. I'll have to question all three of you for additional crime scene processing.' she gave us each an apologetic look. 'I understand that you've been through a rough shock, but this is a standard procedure and we'll need… additional information.'

'Yes.' I helped a silent Mrs. Mallory and Lauren to answer.

'Thank you. Ma'am? Would you like to sit down?' Simone Wheeler gently led the three of us to a small umbrella-seat-thing a little ways from where all the other cops where milling about. I could see a few flashes of a camera. Needless to say, the three undead ones followed to, chattering nervously.

'I really, really hope he's okay --' Alice said fervently.

'I think he's a goner.' Rosalie said bluntly.

'Don't say that!' an agitated Angela gave Rosalie a small punch on her upper arm.

'Okay, first things first,' Simone Wheeler whipped out a small notebook she kept in her breast pocket. 'Full names, age, address.'

'Bella Swan. Seventeen. I'm… a friend of Lauren's and I just came over to visit. I live um, off the main street. Somewhere near the forest. You know La Push Beach?'

'That solitary house right there?' Simone Wheeler nodded, scribbling furiously. 'Why the pause between "I'm" and "a friend of Lauren's"?'

'We just met so I don't know if I'm qualified as her friend.' I shrugged slightly.

'Now, you're the one who found Angela Weber's head in a toilet bowl a week or so ago, am I right?' Simone stopped writing long enough to give me an undecipherable stare.

'Yes.' I nodded.

'Interesting.'

'Bree Mallory, I live here. I'm fifty-two.' Mrs. Mallory supplied succinctly, burying her wasted face in her shaking hands.

Lauren stayed silent, looking absolutely terrified.

'Lauren?' I lightly nudged her. She jumped a mile, yelping. Jesus.

'Lauren Mallory.' Simone Wheeler gave her a very sympathetic look. 'I understand you've been through four deaths in the last two weeks alone?'

Lauren jerked her head a little. I suppose it could've passed off as a nod.

'Okay, who was the one who found the body first?'

I turned towards Lauren. 'It's either me or her, I guess.'

'Where were you at the time of this accident?'

'I was up by the pool. You have a clear view of the window there. I was just… checking out the pool,' I gave Lauren a sheepish look, but she was staring down at her lap. 'then I heard something explode. It was the window, of course. Then Lauren sort of poked her head out from the broken window hole thing and called my name. She asked me to get over there.'

'Okay. Uh-hmm.' Simone Wheeler wrote frantically.

'I was in my room having a nap.' Mrs. Mallory said quietly.

'Right. Lauren?'

Lauren lifted her head, looking very much like a deer caught in headlights.

'Lauren?' Simone coaxed soothingly.

'I…' she stuttered, grabbing the edges of the plastic table.

'I don't think she's fit for questioning, officer.' Mrs. Mallory placed a protective hand on her daughter's shoulders, and Lauren shook it off violently.

'I understand completely.' Simone Wheeler nodded quickly, looking faintly put out.

'I did it, okay?' Lauren exploded.