Page 13 of A Seer and Present Danger

Had she killed him?

No, I refused to believe that. She was my friend and her job was to save people, to keep them safe. She wasn’t a killer.

Then who was? And why had they killed him here?

No idea.

Think, Piper. What would Jules or Dusi do?

“Oh! Right,” I said quietly. “Murder. Mystery. Just like the books. Look for clues.” I patted Jean’s shoulder gently. “Stay here. Delaney’s on the way.”

She nodded and put her head in her hands like she had the worse headache in the world.

I walked to the body, careful to use the same pathway Jean and I had already walked.

The pool of blood was huge—did that matter? Did it mean something?

What details would a detective see?

His jacket wasn’t a fancy brand, his jeans were well worn, but his shoes and watch were expensive. The jacket had a long tear in the back of it.

So he’d probably been stabbed, not shot.

I shook my head. Stabbing was an intimate kind of killing. Someone had to get in close to do it.

He had dark hair, medium-pale skin, and was clean shaven. I’d guess he was in his early fifties.

He was definitely not Stalker-Man, but I’d seen him come through the diner.

He was Hugo Malloy, Gail’s ex, or soon-to-be-ex-husband.

“Oh no, Gail,” I whispered. “Were you angry enough to do this?”

She’d been here. But then, so had Kenny, Hugo’s business partner who had been mad about Hugo not wanting to sell the business.

Neither of them had seemed to like Hugo much, but did they hate him enough to kill him?

I scanned the ground with my phone flashlight, but it wasn’t like the murderer was going to leave the murder weapon or a business card behind to make it easy on me.

“Okay,” I said out loud, thinking this through. “Now what?”

What tools did I have at my disposal? My biggest strengths were looking on the bright side of things and sometimes seeing the correct future.

Not noticing an important detail in this now didn’t mean there weren’t some I’d notice in the future.

I wondered if I could get a peek at what Future Me might see.

Little futures bubbled and then flashed:

Jean in the back seat of the police cruiser

Delaney arguing with Buzz

Stalker-Man opening the passenger side of my car and sitting down. “We need to talk…”

None of that helped with the dead body.

C’mon, future, I begged. Show me something useful for once.