“Died?” I repeated. “Paula’s dead? Of course she’s not dead. What are you saying, that she’s a ghost? You’ve been watching too many of those old horror movies. This is not a movie. Paula is not a ghost.”
Fred heaved a long sigh, scrunched up his mouth and rolled his eyes. “I know she’s not a ghost. But she’s not Paula Walters, either. My guess is, she stole the name and social security number of somebody who died in infancy and used it to change her identity.”
“Wow. That’s the kind of thing you see in the movies. Real people don’t do that.”
He sighed again. “Real people do it all the time. That’s where they got the idea for the movies.”
“I meant, people we know don’t do that. Real people like Paula.”
“Either she faked her own death at the age of two, she’s a ghost, or she changed her identity. Take your pick.”
“All right, I guess we have to go with option C.” I opened the folder and flipped through it. Fred had printed out several sheets of documentation.
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