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I gulp. This makes the third dead body that Paco has led me to. The Sunshine Ghost Society is right. Paco is a ghost whisperer. Oh my God. My dog is like…supernatural or something. I don’t know why I’ve fought this. If I can be a human lie detector, then Paco can certainly be on speaking terms with Casper.
“What are you doing?”
I jump at the sound of Tara’s voice. Man Bun aims his camera at the dumpster.
“I think you better turn off the camera.”
Tara’s eyes go wide. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Let’s just say things here at The Bistro have gotten a little too real.”
Chapter Seven
Within five minutes of calling Travis, he and Zeke show up. I tell them exactly what happened, down to the last detail.
“The dog led you to the dead body?” Zeke says. “Again?”
“Yep. Well, I was going to empty the trash anyway so I would have found it eventually, but yes, Paco already knew it was there.”
“Because of this signal you say he gives you?”
“Like I said before, he begins to bark in this weird way then he shows me where he wants me to go and when I get there, he stops barking and waits.”
Zeke shakes his head like he’s not sure who’s wackier, me for believing this or him for listening to it.
Travis looks between me and Paco, then me again. This time there’s no disbelief in his gaze. Just stunned confusion. I think he finally gets it, only his brain is having a hard time accepting it.
Zeke makes a call on his cell. Within fifteen minutes an army of suits swarms down on the café including the two from the park the other night. They identify themselves as part of an elite state-run CSI team, only I know better. Clearly, they don’t want anyone knowing they’re with the FBI. Which must mean the guy in the dumpster has something to do with Joey. They ask everyone in the café to stay inside. Although ask is the wrong word here. It’s more like an order.
“I demand to speak to a lawyer!” shrieks Tara. The second t
he suits showed up, they confiscated all the film Man Bun worked so hard getting today. She paces up and down the café, and everyone, including Betty Jean, is a little afraid of her right now. “Does the ACLU know what’s going on? Freedom of the press, baby! Ever heard of it?”
“Drug test,” Travis snaps back. “Ever heard of that?”
Tara goes pale. She meekly sits down but not before muttering, “You can forget being cast on that new Bravo show!” Brittany immediately runs over to commiserate, or rather, suck up to her.
The two suits from the park usher me into the kitchen. Now that we’re alone and out of view from the customers, one of them flashes an FBI badge in my face. “I’m Agent Parks, and this is Agent Rollins. First off, you absolutely cannot reveal that we’re with the Bureau. We’re on an undercover mission here.” They remind me of those clones from The Matrix except they’re not wearing sunglasses.
“I haven’t told anyone about Ken Cameron, have I?”
Agent Parks narrows his eyes at me. “This is the second dead body in two days. You don’t find it strange that you’re the one who’s discovered them both?”
“No. And it’s my dog who found them. Is that another FBI agent out there in the dumpster?”
“We can’t answer that question,” says Agent Rollins.
The little hairs on my neck tell me what he won’t. The guy in the dumpster isn’t with the FBI. But if he isn’t an agent, then why is the FBI here? Who is he? Nobody I’ve ever seen around town. A tourist, maybe?
This is definitely not good for business.
“When was the last time you took out the garbage?” asks Agent Parks.
“You mean before just now? That would be yesterday afternoon.”
“Have you seen anyone acting suspiciously?”
“Not really. Do you think that poor man was killed here, in the parking lot?”
