Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“I will,” Keith says and I look through the small bunch of people until I find Officer Maxwell. I catch his eye and wave him over.
“I thought you were leaving,” he says.
“I am, um, after you tell me how you knew I was Estelle’s niece. We don’t have the same last name, I have no criminal record that would show up in a background check, and she’s my great aunt so it’s not like I’m immediate family.”
“You look just like her. And people in this town. They talk. And, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s something in the air here.”
“It’s actually in the ground,” I say without really thinking.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I awkwardly chuckle. The Ley line attracts all sorts of life and people react to it differently. “I’m from Syracuse. Still not used to this whole small town gossip thing. Thank you for listening to me.”
“Like I said, I’m just doing my job. One thing, before you go.”
“Yeah?”
“Solving this case is going to make headlines.”
“Oh,” I say, hearing his unspoken question. “Please, keep my name out of it. I don’t want any credit.”
“Really?” he asks dubiously.
“Really. I was just doing my job too. They talk and I’m able to listen.”
“Well then, have a good night, Miss Benson.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
“Morning,” I say, turning around from the stovetop.
“What’s all this?” Ethan asks as he comes up behind me, snaking his arms around my waist.
“I wanted to make you breakfast.” My eyes flutter shut and I lean back, feeling Ethan’s warm skin through my t-shirt. He’s only wearing sweatpants and it’s probably my favorite look of his.
“I thought I smelled bacon.” His lips go to my neck. “Real bacon.”
“That’s how much I love you.” I turn the burner down and push the scrambled eggs around in the skillet before spinning in Ethan’s arms. He takes a step back, moving away from the stove. “And it was going to expire soon,” I add and Ethan chuckles. “If you bring meat into this house, you better not waste it. But mostly, I’m cooking it because I love you.”
“Is it ready?”
“I think. Unless you want it a little crispier. It’s literally been two decades since I’ve eaten bacon.”
“I admire your dedication,” Ethan tells me and gives me another kiss before peaking in the oven. He says it needs just a few more minutes and pulls me to him again, pressing his lips to mine. We stand there making out until I remember the scrambled eggs on the stovetop and madly dash to stir them.
“You’re distracting me, Mr. Bailey.”
“Should I be sorry about that?” He stands behind me again, hands on my hips.
“Not at all. But we do know how rare it is for me to cook, so let’s enjoy this while it’s hot.” I dish up two plates once everything is done and we sit at the counter to eat.
“You’re in a good mood.”
“I am,” I say with a nod. “Helping Allison cross over felt really good. I wish I could do that more. Being a witch feels natural since it, well, is. But being a medium…it’s me. It’s always been me.”
“It’s your calling.”
“I feel like it is. So is saving all the animals.” I came home last night feeling like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. With the warding recast, my house was calm and peaceful. Stuart is still very much a threat, but knowing we’re another step closer to banishing him forever is a good feeling too.
I’m clearing my plate when my phone rings. It’s my childhood best friend, and seeing her name flash up on my screen makes me realize it’s been a while since we’ve spoken.
“Hello?” I answer.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” she blurts out.
“Uh, depends on what it is?”
“The unnamed psychic who solved a cold case from the 80s.”
Right. Headlines. “That was fast. And yeah, it was me.” I smile and put my plate in the sink and then go into the library. “How do you know?”
“It’s all over social media. Last night, someone tipped off the police about the killer’s trophy case. Family was notified this morning and started posting. The Paradise Valley Times posted about it on Facebook. Like just posted. I’ve been stalking the page since I saw a TikTok by Sara Clayton’s cousin.”
“Send that one to me?” I ask as I pull my phone away from my ear, putting it on speaker as I wait for the link to go through.
“Play it and let me know your reaction,” Laney says.
The video starts with a woman looking into the camera with tears in her eyes. “If you lived in the midwest in the late 80s or 90s, then you probably remember the day my beautiful cousin, Sara, was found brutally murdered. Her case remained unsolved, and I’ll link my other videos about that in the comments, but last night my aunt got a phone call from the Paradise Valley police.” She inhales, doing her best not to start crying. “I can’t give away too much yet, as things legally are still being processed, but they finally know who killed her. It’s been so long I didn’t think it would hit me like this, but I cannot express how much this is going to help heal the hurt we still carry with us, forty-some years later. And when my aunt asked how this new evidence suddenly came about—you guys are never gonna believe this—but the police said a local psychic communicated with another victim.” She shakes her head, tears rolling down her face. “And this person doesn’t want fame or recognition. But whoever you are, thank you. Thank you for enabling my aunt and uncle to finally, finally, be able to move on and rest. Sara’s father swore he wouldn’t give up until justice was served and now he can rest easy in his final days.”