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I tell him everything that went down, including finding the note on the back door. He asks me to retrace my steps, so I show him how I opened the door, then looked around the kitchen and eventually went into the living room. “And you got here around five thirty?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“What made you go into the living room?”

“You won’t like it.”

“Try me.”

“Paco led me into the house. He knew there was a dead body inside. And exactly where it was.”

“Because he’s a ghost whisperer?”

“Because he’s … something. Except a cadaver dog. We know he’s not one of those.”

Travis’s expression turns grim. “Do you mind waiting outside while we finish up in here? I have more questions, but I want to make sure the crime scene guys get everything.”

I wish I could take a walk around the block to let go of all this adrenaline inside, but the street is closed off. There’s already a crowd gathered behind the barricades. Paco is in the front yard with Rusty. I take over dog-watching duty and join Betty Jean, who’s sitting in the back of a police car, drinking coffee.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

The Farrah Fawcett wig sits crooked, and her mascara is smeared. Tears? From Betty Jean? I put my arm around her. “This must be a shock.”

“I’ll say. Do you know how much your property devalues in price when people find out there’s been a murder in the house?”

O-kay. Good to know some things never change.

She looks at me. “Maybe … I’m in a little bit of shock,” she admits. “I was only gone thirty minutes. When I left, he was very much alive, believe me.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I overheard the cops say that he isn’t really J.W. Quicksilver.”

“His name is Jefferson Pike. And he’s a con man.”

She snorts. “Figures.”

“What was he doing here? I thought the book club meeting didn’t start until seven.”

“He came over early to set up.”

The hair on my neck stands on end. “Oh yeah?”

Her blue eyes harden. “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”

“Is that what you plan to tell the police?”

“Yep.”

Whatever Jefferson Pike was doing here two hours before book club, it sure as heck wasn’t helping Betty Jean “set up.” I try to think of a way to ask her what I want to know without hurting her pride. Since Betty Jean isn’t easily offended, I go the blunt route.

“Jefferson Pike was running a con. He and another man named Hoyt Daniels, although that’s probably not his real name, were swindling people out of money and promising them that J.W. Quicksilver was going to publish their books.” I pause. “Is that what he promised you? Because if it was, there’s no shame in that. He was good. They both were. According to Travis, the FBI was looking into him for three other con schemes.”

Betty Jean looks amused. “What do you take me for? I’m no schmuck. No one’s swindling me out of any of my ex-husbands’ hard-earned money.”

Emphasis on ex-husbands plural. Betty Jean doesn’t mind telling you that she’s been married and divorced four times. She’s also telling the truth. She never gave Jefferson Pike any money.

Rusty taps on the car window. “Are you all right to answer questions now, Betty Jean?”

“Right as I’ll ever be.” She pats my hand on the way out of the car. “Looks like you won’t need to serve tonight after all. But I still want the muffins you brought. I can freeze them for next week’s book club.”

Right.


Tags: Maria Geraci Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective Mystery