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)
The joke is on them, of course, since I’m confident to say every single unsolved murder in this town has been due to demons.
“Before, I considered having my friend call it in and say he discovered it during renovations. But we didn’t want to risk messing with evidence that could have DNA on it. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that, but maybe that would work?” I suggest, fully knowing Officer Maxwell isn’t the kind of cop who likes anyone to suggest how to do his job.
“You said there were others.”
I nod, head bobbing quickly up and down. “Yeah. Eleven others to be exact.”
“Eleven?” he echoes.
“That I was able to track down.” Shit. How do I explain this? Another psychic vision? What do psychics on TV always say? They say they did a reading yet never explain what the reading actually is. Or should I say play the angle of being an annoying internet sleuth and that I spent an energy-drink fueled twenty-four hours scouring the Internet for any sort of similar cases?
“Go on.”
I hold up my hand and turn to dig through my purse, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I’m a visual person, so I made a list. The first murder actually happened in 1986.” I slide the paper over to him and watch his face, though his expression remains unreadable.
“Are you aware that Stuart Brown died in 1993?”
“I am.”
He looks up from the paper. “You’ve listed crimes past then.”
“I know.” The waitress brings my iced tea and we wait for her to walk away again before we continue.
“Are you suggesting that he faked his death?”
“I’m not. I’m suggesting that his spirit is carrying on with the murders.”
“All right. I see this is all a joke to you and you’ve wasted my time.”
“No,” I interject and move my hair over my shoulders, showing him the red marks on my neck. The annoyance on his face turns to concern.
“Who did that to you”
“Stuart. His spirit attacked me and I know it sounds crazy but he was evil when he was alive and sometimes evil doesn’t die.” I tap the paper. “Every single one of these victims considered themselves witches or spiritualists in one way or another. And Stuart hated them for that. He’s still killing and a woman who practices Paganism is on her way to that house tonight and she’s in danger.” The words spill out of me and I’m surprised at the sense of relief they bring me.
“Okay,” Officer Maxwell says slowly. “Ghosts aren’t real, and they certainly can’t kill people.”
“I know how crazy this sounds, trust me, I do. But if you go back to the station and look into these cases you will see that every single one of them was targeted for their beliefs. And they were all killed in similar ways but not identical so they weren’t all flagged in the system or whatever.”
Officer Maxwell picks up his coffee and takes a sip. The cafe is notorious for terrible coffee, but it’s almost part of their charm in a weird way.
“You stay put,” he tells me and takes the list from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Certain he’s going to have someone run checks on a few if not all of the victims, I watch him walk out to his car and then reach into my purse, texting both Ethan and Keith to let them knowI think I’m making progress.
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.”