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The officer hesitated. “But she’s asking to see Mr. Porter too. She was very insistent about that.”
Dan raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“We’llbothbe there directly, then.” The officer withdrew, and Gary expelled a long breath. “I’m okay now. And this isn’t the time or the place to discuss Brad. How about we go see our visitor?”
They left the office and walked through the crowded hallways filled with people and noise. Gary did his best to ignore the stares and murmurs, but he knew Dan would have a harder time doing that.
Maybe by the time we’ve got a few successes under our belt, they’ll have warmed to the idea.
He wasn’t going to hold his breath.
Mrs. Sebring stood as they entered the interview room, and Gary’s first impression was of a very weary woman, maybe in her forties, pale, with shadows under her eyes. Her hair was scraped back and secured with a clip, and her face was devoid of makeup.
She headed straight for Dan. “You’re the psychic, aren’t you? The one I read about in the paper.”
He smiled. “Yes, I’m Dan Porter.”
“I’m here because of you. To be honest, you’re my last hope.” She didn’t speak loudly, but Gary couldn’t miss the note of desperation.
“What can we do for you, Mrs. Sebring?” He gestured to her chair. “Please, sit down.” They sat facing her.
She lowered herself into the chair, studying their faces as if she was trying to reach a decision. Her forehead creased.
“First thing I need to know is… was it all true? Did you really find that serial killer?”
The edge of desperation in her voice grew more obvious.
Dan nodded. “I helped the police, yes.”
Her expression hardened. “You never know these days. There’s so much hype, disinformation… truth seems to have gone out of style.”
“Mr. Porter provided valuable information that led us to the killer,” Gary assured her. “So… why are you here?”
Mrs. Sebring’s gaze flicked from Gary to Dan and back to Gary.
“Okay, then.” She shuddered out a breath. “My husband died in 2016. An accident, they said. But I know different. Iknowhe was murdered.” She met their stares. “And I want you to prove it.”
Chapter Two
FOR Amoment Gary was too stunned to react. Then he regained his composure. He grabbed a notepad and pen from the table. “You’ll have to give me some details so I can look the case up in our system.”
She nodded as though she’d been expecting that. “His name was James Oliver Sebring. Born October twenty-first, 1980, in Dorchester. Worked his whole life in different places around the state. He died June twenty-fourth, 2016.”
Gary scribbled notes, then started tapping on the keyboard, aware of Dan’s soothing tone.
“You said your husband’s death was ruled accidental,” Dan said.
“Yes. But it wasn’t. I know it.”
“Buthowcan you know that?” He fixed her with a keen glance.
“Because I knewhim. He spent his whole working life being careful. He knew what he was doing.”
Gary frowned at the monitor screen. “According to our records, your husband was working on a construction site.”
“That’s right. He was a joiner and carpenter. He was building houses at the time.”
Gary quickly scanned the information on the screen. “And he fell off a roof while working. Well, the roof rafters.” Gary’s chest grew tight. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sebring,” he said in an apologetic voice, “but I don’t see how we can help you. It was an open-and-shut case.”
