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“Harris got to the body first, but she’s deferring to me. She’s got her own crap to work on. I have a couple rookies, but I don’t trust them to do things the right way.”
“You mean your way.”
“Yeah, the right way.” He opened the folder and pulled out seven 8x10 photographs, spreading them out across the table. “These are the original victims. All male. Ages anywhere from their mid-twenties to late fifties.”
“So, Shapiro isn’t outside the typical victim pool.”
“Other than being two decades late to the game. At first glance, he looks like he could fit right in.”
“May I?” Cassie asked. David gave his chair over to her, and she took her time looking at each photograph, touching and holding each, trying to defocus her mind enough to get a read on any of them.
After ten minutes, she looked back up at David. “Nothing.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She turned back to the pictures. “None of these guys match the guy I saw this morning. And I’m not getting any readings off the photos.”
“Think there’s a reason for that?”
Cassie sighed. She was always trying to figure out a reason for everything that happened to her. “There could be, but I doubt it. My abilities are still coming and going. It’s like I’ve got a crystal-clear picture with the ghosts, but the psychic flashes are mostly static.”
David started pacing the length of the room. “So, we’ve got a dead body without a ghost and a ghost without a dead body. Both died the same way, mirroring a case from over twenty years ago. There’s a lot to get through, so where do we start?”
Cassie pointed to the picture of Robert Shapiro. “With him. He’s the only tangible evidence we have. If we follow his trail, then maybe my new friend will pop up again, and we’ll be able to connect the dots.”
“And what if your new friend isn’t too happy about that?”
“That’ll be my problem to deal with.” Cassie thought back to the strange interaction from earlier. “The feeling I got from this morning was uncomfortable, but it didn’t feel directed toward me.”
“Right. The angry oven.”
“As soon as I come up with a better name, I’ll let you know and give you the naming rights. You can put it on a t-shirt and sell it on Amazon.” Cassie shook her head. “But we’ll figure that out, eventually. What do you know about Shapiro so far?”
David pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked hard. “Seems like a regular guy. No immediate family. His wife, Susanna, died years ago. They didn’t have any kids. He was a postal worker. The only strange thing is he didn’t have a criminal record.”
“That’s strange?”
David walked back over to the table and tapped a photograph of one of the original victims. “Every single one of these guys had been to prison for drug-related crimes. Some of them served months, others served years. It’s the one thing they had in common. Each of them died within a few weeks of being released.”
“So, it’s not just a question of why now.” Cassie picked up the photo of Robert Shapiro. “But why him?”
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” David called out.
The officer that had led Cassie to the room earlier popped his head inside. “We’re ready to search the house, sir.”
“Got it. Be there in a minute.” Dav
id waited until the door shut again before he turned to Cassie. “Want to come with?”
Cassie checked her phone. She’d been gone for almost ninety minutes. “I should get back to my sister.”
“You sure? We could use your eye.”
“Maybe next time.” Cassie grabbed her purse and swung it over her shoulder. “I’ll let you know if I see anything else.”
“Want me to keep you updated?”
