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“And that’s bad for us?”
“Well, it’s bad for
me.”
David grunted. “What’s bad for you is bad for me. I’ll have to carry your ass back to the car.”
“You’re hilarious.” Cassie couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice, no matter how hard she tried. “A true paragon of comedic genius.”
David chuckled and soaked in the compliment for a minute or two before breaking the silence. “Can you describe him to me? Describe how he feels different?”
Cassie slowed to a stop and closed her eyes again. Shapiro was still there. The red-hot pulse of his anger was larger now. Closer. She could taste it. Like ash in her mouth. She couldn’t tell precisely what he was angry about, but his fury was enough that even death couldn’t tame it.
“He’s mad.” Understatement of the year, Cassie thought after the words left her lips. “Really mad.”
Oh, yeah, much better.
“Mad about what?” David asked.
“I don’t know. Just feels like an assault on my senses. The closer we get to him, the stronger it is. Maybe I’ll be able to tell you if I don’t pass out again.”
“What about our mystery victim? He still around?”
Cassie kept walking forward, letting the pull of Shapiro’s spirit guide her way. They passed dozens of apple trees, either laden with heavy fruit or surrounded by a rotten carpet. The heat of the day thickened the air. She could hear David huffing behind her.
When they reached a fork in the path, she didn’t need to close her eyes and recenter herself to Shapiro’s presence. The figure of his victim stood to the left, looking just as remorseful as he had before. But hope shined in his eyes. Cassie and David were getting closer.
“He’s still here,” she said.
“We have a list of names of the remaining five victims, along with their criminal records. The problem we have is getting the prison to work with us. The warden isn’t making it easy.”
“Is that strange?”
“Not really. His name’s Wickham, and he’s a bit of a dick, if I’m being honest.”
“Does he not like you or do you not like him?”
“Little of both. He’s always rubbed me the wrong way. He gets more than he earns if you know what I’m saying. He lives a pretty lavish life.”
“Anything you can do about it?”
“Me? No. Not my job. Not my taskforce. Savannah PD? Yeah, absolutely. But he’s friendly with those guys. They’d never turn him in. He’s part of the crew, even if he isn’t on the streets with the rest of us.”
“That’s reassuring.” Cassie kept walking down the left path. Every step seemed to bring with it a barrage against her senses. Hot air that seemed to envelop her. Putrid fruit. A rush of anger. She felt sick to her stomach that Wickham—a man she didn’t even know—could get away with a crime while punishing those who had done less than he had. “We’re getting close.”
“How can you tell?”
“I have the urge to rip someone’s head off.”
“Ah.” David chuckled. “Considering I’m the only other living person here, I’ll ask you to refrain.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Cassie followed the path in front of her until she wound up under a large willow tree. She heard the faintest whisper of bones calling out to her. Begging her to release them. Their voices were a chorus of pain just beneath the surface of the earth.
“Here.” Cassie confirmed.
“You sure?”
