“Like she said, all very easy to confirm.” I take a step toward him. “Look at the evidence, Nick. You’ll see we’re right. Charlie Dunbar caused that accident, likely because he was drunk, according to Billy.”
Nick huffs a humorless laugh. “The only evidence you have that Charlie was intoxicated comes from a ghost?” He shakes his head. “Please go home and don’t mention this to another person. I’ll repeat... for your safety.”
He turns his back on us and walks out, leaving Lanie and I standing there speechless.
“He isn’t going to listen,” Lanie says, sounding dejected for the first time ever.
“We’ll make him,” Billy says, appearing next to Lanie.
“How are you going to do that?”
Lanie’s eyes narrow in on me. “Who you talking to in the middle of the precinct?” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “Please stop.”
I ignore her, giving Billy my full attention. Nobody’s around and she’s more than clued in to my ability.
“According to Harry, we can haunt someone other than you if you’re nearby. That might speed up his belief in us.” He shrugs, picking invisible lint from his gray hoodie. “Jackson’s already on board.”
I smile wide. “Do your best work.”
Nine of Swords
Nick
TURNING MY BACKon Alyssa was hard. I care what happens to her, and this insistence that she’s seeing ghosts has me worried. Even more concerning is the fact that the people she’s closest to seem to be feeding into the delusions instead of getting her help.
“Was that Lanie Anderson?” Eric asks, strutting toward me as if she’s still around to see him.
“Yes.”
He lifts his eyebrows, eyes darting around. “Care to tell me what she wanted?”
“No.”
“So we’re atthatstage. One-word answers?”
For the first time ever, Marsha comes to the rescue, waddling up, holding the fender out toward me. “This was left at the front. Not sure what to do with it.”
I grab it from her hands, not sure myself. I give it a quick once-over, my eyes staying rooted on the black paint marring the red, and my gut knots. Could I be wrong?
No.
And even if I am, things will have to unravel in due time, when Captain gives the okay. Otherwise, I’ll be up shit creek without a paddle.
What the hell was Alyssa thinking? I warned her multiple times about the danger in running around insisting that accidents were homicides. Now she’s claiming it’s the mayor’s son. Her best friend’s stepson? She has no idea what shitstorm she could stir up making that claim.
“What is that?” Eric asks, looking at the fender and then to me.
I walk around him, car part in hand, dropping it onto my desk.
“Why all the questions, Malone? You’re giving me a headache.”
“Who pissed in your coffee?” he says, walking up behind me. “I’m curious, man. It’s not every day you see Lanie and Standoffish Widow in the precinct, bearing gifts of... sawed-off plastic?”
My fingers massage at my temples. “Stop calling her that.”
“I’m just repeating what you’ve always called her,” he says, puckering his lips. “I keep forgetting you caught feelings.”
“Drop it, Malone. We’re done talking about this.”
