The food comes and Officer Maxwell still hasn’t returned. I pick at my fries, both wanting to be polite and wait for him to eat but also seeking comfort in junk food. I’m halfway through my bowl of fries and considering ordering the fried pickles when he comes back in, taking off his rain-dampened jacket and hanging it on the back of his chair.
“How did you get this information?”
I dip another fry in ketchup. “Everything I said checks out, doesn’t it?”
“It does. Again. How did you get this information? Was it a vision? Did you bust out a Ouija board?”
I almost say yes, but I’m trying hard to retain what little credibility I have here. “I have a friend who is a federal agent and they share my interest in the paranormal. I reached out and they offered to look into it for me. Of course, my source is to remain anonymous.”
“Huh.” He leans back, studying me for a minute before digging into his sandwich.
“I’m telling the truth.”
“I believe that you think you are.”
“Don’t do that.” I tap the screen of my phone to check the time. “We’re going to run out of time. I was right about those victims and there could be more I missed.” I put my hands on the table. “And there will be more for certain if you don’t do something.”
“I’ve already put in a request for the county Sheriff to send out a crime scene team, saying we got an anonymous tip about a cold case.”
“Really?” My lips curve into a smile. “Thank you.”
“If you’re right, then I’m just doing my job.”
“I am right, and then I hope you believe that Stuart Brown was a dangerous man while alive and an even more dangerous one while dead. Which is why we really have to act fast. Not just tonight, but there’s an event in Paradise Valley in a few days that will be swarming with people who consider themselves witches. It’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for him.”
“I’m gonna stop you right there. Psychic visions…they’re not unheard of. But mention a ghost-murderer one more time and I’m going to feel obligated to take you to the ER for a psych check.”
“Not funny.”
“Well, then, kid…prove me wrong.”
“Most times I’d jump on the chance to.” I bite my lip and shake my head, looking out the window. The rain has let up and the air is hazy. “But this time, I really hope I don’t.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
Idrum my fingers on my steering wheel, listening to the phone ring. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Come on, Keith,” I whisper, surprised he didn’t answer right away. Finally, on the last ring, he answers.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Good, I think. How fast can you meet me at the house?”
“Your house or the house-house.”
“Thehouse.I’m on my way there with a cop and a CSI team in tow.”
“Holy shit, you did it!” he exclaims.
“I did. I think. There’s a good chance Officer Maxwell thinks I’m fifty shades of crazy.”
“He didn’t buy the whole psychic thing?”
“Oh, he did, but I went on to tell him that instead of making sexy pottery from beyond the grave, Stuart is still killing.”
“Please tell me you said exactly that.”
“I regret that I didn’t. You might want to call your aunt and give her a heads up that the police will be contacting her. And if she’s already on her way there, tell her to stay in the car and don’t hate me for being the one to call in the tip.”