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“That’s good,” Cassie offered. “You should be proud of that.”
Graham shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled something out. He handed it to Cassie. “Been sober seven years. Shoulda been ten, but I fucked up—oops, sorry, ma’am. I messed up a little in the middle there.”
Cassie smiled and handed the chip back. “You did a good job, Carl. That’s really amazing.”
He beamed as he took the chip back. He looked years younger. “Thanks. I take it pretty serious. Have to. Malcolm, the owner, he’s been sober goin’ on twenty-five years. Gave me a job. Helped me turn my life around. It’s not perfect, you know? It’s still shitty most days. Pretty crappy, I mean. But it’s better than it was. I don’t ever want to go back to the way it was.”
After a beat of silence, Graham looked at David. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, you’re not in trouble, Carl. We may have some follow-up questions for you in the future, but you have nothing to worry about.”
Graham nodded. “I’m home most nights after six. Don’t really have anywhere to go.”
David walked Graham back into the building and then met Cassie at the car.
“What now?” she asked.
David sighed and shook his head. “Back to square one.”
23
“When you said back to square one, I didn’t think you meant here.”
David put the car in park, and Cassie leaned forward to look at Shapiro’s ranch-style home once again. A shiver ran down her spine, but goosebumps didn’t erupt on her skin as they had when she’d been there before.
“We’re just parking in the driveway.” David pointed to a similar house next door. “I want to talk to the neighbors.”
“Hi there, Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Cassie said. “Were you aware your neighbor was a serial killer?”
“I’m hoping they might know of his comings and goings over the years. Did he stay home a lot, or did he leave every weekend? If he left every weekend, where would he go? That might give us an idea of where he buried the last set of bodies.”
“Think he’d divulge that kind of information to them?”
“Don’t know until we ask.” David pushed open his door and stretched his legs. “Shapiro got away with murder for decades. He likely let some information slip over the years. It may have been innocuous then, but it could help us now.”
“Good enough for me.” Cassie hopped out of the car and pointed at Shapiro’s house. “As long as I don’t have to go back inside there.”
“We’ll try to avoid it at all costs, but I make no promises.”
Cassie didn’t argue. If David asked her to, she’d do just about anything to help her friend solve the case. Her relationship with David was unconventional, but she liked it that way. They had a professional respect for each other, but Cassie could rely on him for the personal stuff, too. Like dealing with her sister.
“Thanks, by the way.” Cassie looked over at him. “I forgot to say that earlier.”
“For what?”
“Asking for Laura’s help. I don’t know how she feels about all this, but I know she’s trying to understand it. And I think you got her hooked on trying to figure out how Shapiro ticks.?
?
“It can be addictive,” David said. “That need to solve the mystery. To complete the puzzle. Sometimes you get closer than others. She has a good mind for this sort of thing. I think she’s going to be a big help.”
“Me too. Gotta say, it feels nice to confide in her. I was having these recurring dreams, but the more I open up to her, the more in control I feel of them. Isn’t that weird?”
“Your dreams are always weird, Cassie. That’s the least weird dream you’ve ever told me.”
Cassie laughed but smothered it with her hand. They were standing on the doorstep of the neighbors who lived to the right of Robert Shapiro. She knew nothing about them, least of all if they’d be willing to talk about the man who lived next door, but she was sure they’d be more hesitant to share information if she stood cackling on the other side of their front door.
David knocked and a sweet older woman greeted them. She must’ve been in her eighties, but her track suit gave her an air of athleticism, and she seemed to have more energy than Cassie did most days.
