Razorhurst Read Free

that wouldn’t keep rain or sun out of your eyes. It looked like something you could eat.
    “Her arse is too big,” Tommy said. “She’s gunna break the fence.”
    He was leaning against the warehouse opposite, not grinning now, laughing. “Good apples, eh?” He slapped his thigh. “
That
was a corker. Don’t think I’ve ever done better. Heard the coppers coming, didn’t I? I seen her watching you, see? Plenty of times. Reckoned it might be fun to see what’d happen.”
    Kelpie ignored his stupid blather. If he weren’t already dead, she’d do for him herself. Not another word to the rat-featured little bastard, she vowed.
    Tommy grinned widely. “Looker, ain’t she? I never seen a chromo look as good as her. Most of them hard-faced sluts’d make a rat look good. She almost glows.”
    The other ghost shot Tommy a poisonous look and tried to help Dymphna. Kelpie was sure now that he was the dead man—what had Dymphna called him? He didn’t know he was dead yet.
    “Hard to imagine her killing anyone,” Tommy said, though he was doing just that. “She’s too pretty.”
    Kelpie wasn’t going to correct him. Whoever killed that bloke would be covered in blood. Not shiny clean like Dymphna Campbell. Kelpie put the hat down, grabbed Dymphna’s hands, and pulled, both feet braced against the kerb. Fabric tore.
    “Harder,” Dymphna said. “Don’t worry about the skirt.”
    “Don’t hurt her!” the ghost cried.
    “Leave the fat cow!” Tommy yelled. “Save yourself!” He laughed harder. “Pity you ain’t invisible, like us. Stupid breathers.”
    Kelpie heard metal on metal. Louder even than Tommy’s maniac laugh. The bolt on the back door. She strained so hard tendons stood out along her arms, so hard it felt like her eyes would pop.
    Dymphna ripped through the fence, knocking Kelpie over. Kelpie scrambled out from under her and onto her feet. Dymphna grabbed Kelpie’s arm and used it to stand up. The back of her skirt was torn. She bent to pick up her squashed hat.
    “You have to stick with me,” she whispered harshly in Kelpie’s ear, gripping harder as Kelpie tried to shake free.
    Why did she have to stick with Dymphna? That dead man had nothing to do with her.
    Dymphna staggered a few more steps away from Mrs. Stone’s. It was obvious she had no idea where to go.
    Behind them Kelpie could hear shouting. They must’ve got the back door open.
    “They’ll kill us both,” Dymphna said. “We’re both in this.”
    No, they weren’t. It wasn’t Kelpie’s name on that card what’d been on a dead man’s chest.
    Tommy snorted. “Jeez, sounds like there’s an army after you! Don’t fancy your chances, Kelpie. Wonder where you’ll haunt. Right here on the lane with me? Won’t that be cosy?”
    “This way,” Kelpie said, Tommy’s comments deciding her. She pointed at the Darcy place. No one would be awake but Neal Darcy, and he’d be too focused on his writing. “Let’s go.”
    Dymphna complied but kept a grip on Kelpie’s arm. Kelpie dragged them three doors up past leaning fences covered in choko vines that were still months away from fruiting.
    Kelpie pushed the loose board aside and scrambled into the Darcys’ backyard on hands and knees, landing next to the dunny. Dymphna scraped through behind her. Kelpie turned to stop the board from swinging. They were both breathing too hard.
    The ghost of Dymphna’s dead boyfriend appeared next to her. Cripes but he was a huge bugger.
    “It’s me, Dymph,” he said. “I know it’s all gone bung, but we can fix it.”
    His hands pawed uselessly at Dymphna’s side. Kelpie shuddered. She hated when ghosts touched her.
    “Why won’t you answer me, Dymphna?”
    Kelpie could hear men on the lane stomping and yelling.
    “I’m sure it’s the cops,” Dymphna breathed. Her gloved hands shook. They weren’t shiny clean anymore.
    Someone cleared his throat.
    Kelpie turned to see Darcy sitting on the back steps, cigarette in hand,