Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“I thought you would. You’re the one who pulled me into this.”
“I tried. I didn’t know if you would really help us.”
“Who is us?” I query.
“The detectives on the case, and the victims, and their families.”
It’s a good answer. Almost too good. I walk to a steel table with a faux leather top and slide on top of it, legs dangling because I’m a short bitch, but I have a big attitude. “Tell me about what you’re doing, Jack.”
He shakes his head and lifts the glove. “I can’t figure out how he made the weapon.”
“I thought you did all of this digitally now?”
“We do, but the results were inconclusive, and with all the chaos going on outside right now, I asked to use a doll and they said yes.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Pretty cool, right? Nobody gets to do this if it’s not for a big courtroom show.”
“Because pretending to stab someone is really cool?” I ask.
“Figuring out how he did it is really cool.” He points at the doll on the ground, all serious and intense. “And that gentleman down there on the floor will allow me to do whatever I want to him, as many times as I like, to make that happen.”
I just look at him.
He shifts, awkward under my stare, and sets the glove on the steel table next to me. “I’m hoping there’s a piece of the blade that shows up during the autopsy.”
In an ideal world, that’s exactly what the ME will find, but rarely is this world I live in ideal. I’m more curious about his. “Tell me about the world you live in, Jack.”
His eyes go wide. “Me? What about me?” He yanks off the chest protector he’s wearing and tosses it to the mat where he’s been experimenting. “If this is about the whole Cox thing, I don’t actually know the Cox family, and I didn’t mean to imply that I do. I just thought, maybe—you know—I seemed more important if I said that.” He’s now talking with his hands. “I wanted you to think I might have something to say that’s important because I do.” He scrubs a hand nervously through his hair and settles his palms on his hips. “It was stupid, right? I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Which part?”
“Pretty much every word that has come out of my mouth the last sixty seconds and the Cox family connection part.”
“You wanted attention.”
He holds up two hands. “No. No. Not me. I wanted to stop another murder from happening. No one was moving on this. They were slow to even connect the cases. It was driving me batshit crazy.”
“No one told you to call me?”
“The opposite. No one would listen when I told them to call you.”
“And how do you know me again?”
“I told you. The buzz around here, and the forum.”
“The forum you got rid of?”
“I emailed the owners and told them to take them down. They refused. I don’t own them.”
I consider the forum for a minute and decide maybe I don’t want it down after all, at least not yet. “Text me a link to the forum.”
He yanks his phone from his pocket and not without struggle, and then punches a few keys. “Done. What else?”
“Where do horror movie geeks like you hang out?”
“There are forums, and Facebook groups, and even in-person meetings.”
“I need a list of all of them. Are there any you think I need to know about particularly?”
“I was thinking the same thing. I do. There is a group that meets in the neighborhood near one of the victims’ apartments. I think that’s a good place to start.”
“Have you been to a meeting there?” I ask.
“One time. This woman I met at the comic book store invited me to go and it was pretty badass, but we—me and Sheila, that’s the woman—we didn’t exactly work out, so I didn’t go back.” He presses his lips together. “You think I’m a total adult geek, right?”
“Yes. What was badass about it?”
“They dressed up in character and put on shows once a month. I went to one of the shows. They have a trivia night, movie nights, and then poker night with a slasher theme. And from what I could tell, Halloween is off-the-charts, wicked fun. There’s some big party. Everyone there talks about it all year long.”
“What kind of party? What is so fun about it?”
“Dancing, booze, costumes, and a haunted house. The haunted house is what everyone talks about, and it’s for a good cause. They donate to a children’s hospital.”
“I need you to put all of this in an email to me.” I reach into my bag and grab a card I offer to him. He snags it from me and says, “I have a lot of thoughts on this. Can I send you my notes?”