Of two things Maddie was sure when she woke up the next morning: One, her husband was already awake and out of bed. (The bed frame had stopped rumbling with his enormous snores.) Two, last night had been one of the best nights she had ever experienced in her entire life.
She rolled out of bed smiling and stumbled sleepily to the shower.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"Maddie!" Jack exclaimed when she walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. The room was filled with smoke and an odd smell- someone (and it wasn't too hard to guess who) had tried to use the ecto-microwave to make breakfast again.
Maddie grinned. Jack gave a sheepish smile in return. "Toast?" he offered, handing her a slice. She took it from his black gloves and sat down in the seat to his right, biting into the slightly charred crust immediately. They ate in silence for another four minutes, then Jazz appeared at the end of the hallway. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat.
"Mom? Do you have a second?" Maddie looked up. Jazz stood at the kitchen door, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Maddie swallowed the last bite of her toast.
"Sure, sweetie. What is it?" Jazz opened her mouth slightly, ready to say something, but she seemed to change her mind.
Shaking her head, she replied, "Never mind. I'll ask you later. You're busy," and before Maddie could object, she had walked out of the room and back up the stairs. A door banged shut somewhere over the couple's heads.
Jack chuckled. "Teenagers, hmm?"
Maddie gave a reluctant smile. She would have to remember to talk to Jazz later.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Jazz reentered Danny's room to find that her brother was still sleeping, though it was now nearing nine o'clock. She smirked softly at the covers on the right side of his bed--she had fallen asleep on his floor the previous night after treating his arm and had probably pulled it off his bed herself. She remembered setting the blanket over Danny's shoulders and sitting on the floor near his bed to watch him for a while. But… she didn't remember anything else until she woke up that morning on the not-so-soft carpet, neck cramped from being propped up at an awkward angle on the nightstand.
Jazz recalled the way Danny hadn't seemed too worried about his injury the night before. This struck her as odd- Danny was usually terrified when he was visibly injured. He knew it might compromise his secret. But Danny had seemed strangely distant, like he wasn't really listening to her chiding. Just staring into space; not even flinching when Jazz had swabbed the gash on his forearm with hydrogen peroxide. When Jazz had asked what he was going to do to hide the bandages, he'd simply shrugged and rolled over, asleep almost immediately.
The ghost he was fighting- it must have been Spectra, Jazz decided. No other ghost got to Danny like she always did.
God, she wanted to talk to her mother about this.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Not for the first time that morning, Jack's eyes flickered to the television. Maddie could see he was thinking about switching it on, but he didn't want to do so in case she took it personally, like she was boring him.
"Jack, I don't care if you watch the news," she said with a smirk. Pushing her chair out from the table, she walked the counter a few feet away and clicked the power button. A news anchor's face swam into focus before the sound came on:
"…with two more events last night. The police remain baffled as to the identity of the killer, but-"
"Wait a sec- could you turn that up?" asked Jack. Maddie obliged. The voice boomed from the small speakers of the television set.
" …starting to put the pieces together, he says. With eleven dead in the course of two days, police say it is becoming more likely that the murders are the acts of more than one person. The public is advised to take extreme caution, especially in crowded and busy areas. At this point the killings have occurred in three very public regions of town: Central Square, Amity Stadium, and Wilmhier Train Station, yet the police have found no witnesses of the murder. We now go live to Mindy Fuller at the scene in Wilmhier Train Station, where only five hours ago four more lost their lives."
An attractive blonde woman appeared on the screen now, her too-red lips pursed slightly before she began to speak. "I'm here with Mr. Duren, an employee of the station who was present at the time of the murders. Mr. Duren, you say you saw the four men die?"
A thin man with wiry hair answered, somewhat shakily, "Y-yes ma'am. I did."
"Mr. Duren, the police have publicly stated that there were no witnesses. Are you saying you saw the four men killed, but you did not see the killer? "
Mr. Duren was shaking. "No- It's just like I told the police. I didn't see 'em killed I just seen 'em dead. One minute they…they's standing, and the next…" he was breathing heavily, and the blonde newscaster rubbed his shoulders and turned back to the camera.
With her mouth set in a grim line, she said, "Back to you, Ted."
"My God, I hadn't heard about any of this!" Maddie exclaimed, clutching Jack's hand. She gasped. "Thank heavens it's summer, I don't want to think about what might have happened to the kids at school!"
Jack nodded absently, pulling his wife closer.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Hmmm... I know where I want to take the story (having written it before, if you read the heading on chapter three) but I'm so SLOW at putting the ideas on paper. Or computer. Whatever. If anyone has some good writing tips, I would LOVE to hear them. I really want this story to turn out well.