“What do you think is going to happen when the publishing house refuses to give the cops my identity? Word will get out in the press that the reclusive J.W. Quicksilver is connected to a publishing scam and a murder. It’ll be all over social media in five minutes. I’ll go viral for a couple of days, my book sales will skyrocket, and everyone will make a nice fat profit. Then a week later when the buzz dies, the publishing company will give their lawyers the go-ahead to stop fighting the court order. They’ll give me up, and two months from now when someone Googles my name, the first thing they’ll see is that I was a suspect in a murder investigation. Sales will still be good, but my name—my real name—will be mud forever.”
I sit down, stunned. “But you’re innocent.”
“No one will care about that, Lucy. All anyone sees is the headlines. The click bait. The real story will be buried at the bottom of the page. No one bothers to read to the end anymore.”
A blast of anger shoots through me. “We’re not going to let that happen.”
“How are we going to stop it?”
“Travis says the publishing company has until twelve tomorrow to give up your name. All we have to do is find the killer in the next … ” I look at my watch. “Nineteen hours and forty-three minutes.”
“Oh, sure. That gives us plenty of time.”
“Don’t be such a negative Nelly. Didn’t you ever pull an all-nighter in college? Besides, you’re forgetting. You have a secret weapon. Me. I’m on your side.”
Paco barks as if to say, Me too!
Will shakes his head, then chuckles wearily. “Okay, Lucy. I know better than to try to fight you on this. Where do we start?”
The three of us get in my car and head over to Victor Marino’s house. Since he’s one of the two victims whose identities I’m aware of, it’s the logical place to begin. Plus, Victor knows I know he’s been scammed, so we can cut right to the chase.
Victor lives in a quiet neighborhood, just a few blocks from Betty Jean’s. He answers the door on the first ring, takes one look at us, and ushers us inside. “I’m honored. Come in, come in!” He practically trips over himself in his glee.
If I thought for one moment all this was for me, I’d be flattered. But I know exactly which of the three of us Victor is so giddy to see. And it’s not Will either.
“I never thought I’d have the honor of hosting Cornelius in my home. Please, take a seat anywhere,” he says to Paco.
Paco looks at his choices. A nice little leather sofa or two recliners. He hops up on the sofa, circles around four times, then hunkers down with a grin on his face. I sit next to my dog, and Will takes one of the recliners.
“His name is Paco now, remember?” I say to Victor.
He nods eagerly. “Whatever you say. Do you think he’s thirsty? Is he hungry? I have steak.”
At the word “steak,” Paco’s ears perk up.
“I don’t give Paco steak. Or any other human food either. The vet says it’s bad for him.” This is a lie because I give Paco human food all the time. Just not steak.
Victor looks horrified. “I would never do anything to endanger this sweet little dog.” He sits on the other side of Paco. “Am I permitted to pet him? Or will it interfere with his aura?”
Oh, for the love of … “Yes, you can pet him. But we’re not here because of anything ghost-related. We need your help with something. It’s about the Jefferson Pike murder.”
“That man,” he seethes. “The way he strutted into town pretending to be J.W. Quicksilver, swindling poor, innocent people out of their hard-earned money. And it wasn’t just the money. He gave them false hope. He made us all believe we’d be published by a fancy company. The man should be shot.”
“Actually, he was stabbed.”
Victor reddens. “Yes, of course, he was. And now I hear that the real J.W. Quicksilver is here in town and that he’s the prime suspect. Who would have thought? It’s like something out of one of his novels.”
“That’s fake news,” I say. “J.W. Quicksilver is most certainly not the murderer, and we need your help to clear his name. You’re a big fan of his. Don’t you want to help him out?”
“Yes, of course I do.” Victor’s eyes widen. “Lucy, are you telling me that you’ve been in contact with the real J.W.? What’s he like? Do you think he’d be interested in reading my novel?”
Will and I exchange glances. “Lucy isn’t at liberty to reveal Quicksilver’s identity,” says Will. “Right now, the man is fighting for his life and his reputation.”
Victor collects himself. “Of course. But what can I do to help?”
“You can give us the names of the other scam victims,” I say.
“How would I know their names?”