Page 78 of You'll Be the Death of Me

Dell winked at him and turned to face Robbie. “Okay, ready,” she said, and climbed into him.

“Oh, hi,” Robbie said with a slight shimmy of his shoulders. “Welcome back.So, who are we looking for?”

Dell hesitated for a few final moments, realizing she too was nervous about what they might uncover. “His name is Cole Lewis, and that’s all I really know. What we most need is a picture of him. And you can talk out loud, because he’s here too and will hear you.”

Robbie went rigid for a second. “That’s not creepy at all...” he muttered, and reached for his keyboard. He typed the name into a black box with a blinking green cursor. “Can you narrow it down at all? Geographic location, maybe?”

Dell considered naming the Afterlife Administration but doubted it would return any results, despite the sophistication of the system Robbie was using.

“Umm, Tahoe, maybe?” Dell offered. “I don’t know if he’sfromthere, but there’s a good chance we met there a year ago, so maybe.”

She watched Robbie click around and type “Tahoe” into a line of code that sent ten more lines of code whizzing down the screen. Another window popped up with a list of names and a few photos. “Okay, looks like there are a few people by that name in the Tahoe area right now. But you said a year ago? That’s when you were there?”

“Yes,” Dell said. “A little over a year ago. March of last year.”

“Okay, just give me a second,” Robbie said, and clacked at his keyboard some more.

Dell noticed Cole take a step closer to the desk and lean down to see the screens. They watched as lines of code raced from left to right and up and down at the same time. A few windows popped up and organized themselves into a neat stack. One turned green with aping!from the speakers. Robbie minimized the others and clicked on it.

A news article from a local outlet filled the screen with a headline that made Dell gasp.

Berkeley Professor Dies in Tragic Ski Accident

“Oh my God,” she said. She heard Cole suck in a breath behind her.

“This your guy?” Robbie asked, and he scrolled the article enough to show a photo of a handsome young man in a plaid button-down with a slightly crooked tie and tousled hair. If there was any doubt it was Cole, the caption beneath it erased it.

Dr. Cole Lewis, a professor of English literature at the University of California, Berkeley, was found critically injured by ski patrol after colliding with a tree. He was airlifted to a local hospital, where he succumbed to his injuries. He is survived by his parents, David and Carole Lewis of Berkeley, and brother, Christopher of Los Angeles.

“This article is from March of last year,” Robbie said.

Dell was reeling.A ski accident?That made it almost certain they hadmet in Tahoe, because that trip she’d taken with Jasonand her brothers had been St. Patrick’s Day weekend. She remembered the food dye someone had put in the mimosas, which had turned all their tongues green. But more important, Cole haddiedthat weekend? When? After they’d met, obviously, but how long after? Had he gotten on a ski lift after he’d collided with her and crashed into a tree on his next run? What if she’d said yes to his drink offer? Would it have prevented his death?

Her mind was fraying off in a thousandwhat ifdirections, and she could only imagine Cole’s was doing the same.

“Robbie, can you print that photo and article, please? I want to talk to him face-to-face. I’ll be right back.”

“I take it we found him?” Robbie said out loud, and he commanded his computer to print. The printer in the corner whirred to life.

Dell sprang loose of his body and immediately turned to Cole. She gripped his arms. “It’s you. That’s you,” she said, and pointed at the screen where his photo was still up. “You really are a professor—werea professor. I can’t believe we were right.Andyou have a brother!” Excitement thrummed through her. They’d done it. They’d solved the mystery of who he was. All they needed to do now was show Jason that picture and confirm—though Dell was already 98 percent sure—Cole was the guy who’d crashed into her. And then they’d know. They’dknowwhat all this meant, one way or another. They’d at least be one step closer to understanding why their lives—deaths!—had intersected.

She leaned back, still gripping his arms, and studied his face. His brow furrowed; his eyes remained locked on the computer screen. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

It took him several seconds to respond. She wasn’t sure what was going to come out of his mouth, and she couldn’t blame him for the shock—she’d be shocked too, to learn about her own death from a news article—but when his face softened and his mouth lifted, Dell let out a small breath of relief.

“I have a family,” Cole said. “My parents are alive, and they are nearby.”

She squeezed his arm in hope. “Yes, and youwerea professor. You had a whole career and life. Friends, surely. And I bet your brother in LA makes movies or something stylish and exciting.”

Cole quietly laughed. He seemed to be working his way through a haze. “Maybe. Can we go see them? My parents at least?”

“We can do whatever you want, after we show this picture of you to Jason. He told me the other day he could pick you out of a lineup, so he’ll remember if it was you who crashed into me, though I don’t know how it couldn’t have been at this point. Are you remembering anything now? About your life, or—” She cut herself off, hesitant to sayyour deathbecause the revelation felt too fresh. “Or your accident?” she tried instead.

Cole’s face twisted in thought. “Maybe? I’m not sure. I definitely don’t remember hitting a tree, but it sounds like something I’d do.”

After spending time with him, and because of the fact he’d (maybe) plowed intoheron the slopes, she couldn’t disagree with him.

“And the professor thing fits, obviously,” he said, and gestured at himself.