by Teri Barnett
“Well, I did see him coming out of Edna’s van the night she died. I’m staying at the site on the other side of him. He was wearing all blue jean stuff, like he always does.” Janine’s eyes filled with tears. “Why’d you do it, Rocky? I know Edna was pretty darn horrible to you sometimes, but to kill her like that....”
“And you’re just now telling me this?” Morgan interjected.
“I saw it too.” Morgan turned at the voice. It was Davey. “Didn’t really think much of it since Edna was mentoring him and all. But now that Janine mentions it, it could seem suspicious.” He rubbed his chin and stared at Rocky.
Rocky jumped to his feet. “Oh hell no. I am not going down for this.” He turned and started to stomp off, but Morgan grabbed his arm. He spun around and glared at her.
“Morgan?”
She glanced over her shoulder. Cal had parted the crowd and was standing behind her. “Caleb,” she said.
“Sorry I had to leave for a few, had to get Jack settled.” He looked Rocky, Davey, and Janine over. “Interesting party you have going on here. Maybe we can take it somewhere more private so as not to disturb the patrons?”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Morgan replied. “Mind if Rocky and I use one of your rooms to have a nice, quiet chat?” The Raven’s Nest housed several “secret meeting rooms” used for card playing and drinking during prohibition. Morgan discovered while investigating the last murder in Bijoux that at least one of them had a secret entry.
“Help yourself. I actually cleaned out and freshly painted the second one on the left last week. Turned it into a little conference room.”
“Perfect.”
“Jack’s still in the store, getting ready for his talk, FYI.” Cal glanced at his watch then addressed the crowd. “You’re all welcome inside for Jack Steve’s book presentation and signing. We begin in about twenty minutes, at one o’clock.” Those gathered around started dispersing back to their tables, continuing readings that had been interrupted by the commotion of the dueling psychics or heading inside.
“Have a seat,” Morgan said to Rocky as they entered the small work room. “What’s going on with you?” she asked as she closed the door behind him. The room was small, about eight foot by eight foot, but the walls were whitewashed and the lighting was bright, so it felt larger. “Talk to me.”
Rocky crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. It was wood and creaked under the movement. “It’s obvious you already believe I’m guilty. I have nothing to say.”
Morgan leaned forward and rested her elbows on the old cherry table. “You can take that tact, or you can tell me your side of the story.”
“I’ve already done that. Edna was sometimes horrible. Sometimes nice. She kept me under her thumb, refused to set me free, said my abilities reflected on hers since she was my mentor.” He sucked in a breath and blew it out. “Overall, I didn’t like her. But, you know, you can dislike people and not actually murder them. And that’s all I’m saying. If you’re not going to cut me loose, I want a lawyer.” Rocky blinked back the tears rimming his eyes.
For not saying anything, he’d certainly said quite a bit. She almost felt sorry for him. Damn. Lakeside living was definitely softening her up. There was a time when she was suspicious of everyone, believed maybe a tenth of what any suspect told her, was always ready to arrest the guilty and defend the innocent.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to be losing some of her cynicism. This was a small town, after all, with its own personality and quirks. She was a good cop, but it didn’t hurt to switch perspective once in a while.
“Okay, Rocky. It’s safe to assume your prints are all over Edna’s van, so no sense going there. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to run your information through the databases. And I’m waiting for some DNA testing. You come down to the station for a swab, continue to cooperate, and if you don’t match, you can go on your way. In the meantime, please don’t leave Bijoux.”
“I can’t leave. I don’t have much money. I need to get back out to the fair so I can earn some cash for gas and food.” He relaxed a little, though still obviously distressed. “I promise I won’t leave without talking to you and I’ll go down to the station for a test.”
“Thank you.” Morgan opened the door to leave. “You coming along?”
Rocky shook his head. “I need a few to collect myself.”
Morgan closed the door behind her and walked out to the back deck. She scanned the tables of readers and their clients. Everything seemed to be running without issue now. Jimmy had moved onto another reader. The Garanimal guy from the bar was listening intently to whatever Starman was telling him. Even Janine, whose table was near the door, had settled into giving a palm reading to Doc Pete. Pete waved at her. She offered what she hoped was her best I-like-you-but-not-in-that-way smile and went back into the store and the crowd gathered for Jack Steve’s book discussion. “Is that fresh coffee I smell?” she said to Cal as she maneuvered through the book stacks and approached the counter.
Cal filled a mug and handed it to her. She inhaled and took a sip. “You do make good coffee, Professor Joseph.”
He smiled. “It was one of my minors in college.”
Morgan gestured with the mug toward the front of the shop, where Jack was leaning on a podium and talking loudly. Did the man have a volume switch? If so, she’d love to find it. Even the spectators shouted out their questions. He must bring that out in others. Some people have that unfortunate superpower. “How goes the talk? Aside from the noise, looks like you have a decent crowd.” She glanced out the side window where it opened on the courtyard. “For both events. Should be good for sales.”
“True and it is. But you’re not here to talk about any of this.” He leaned on the counter and looked at her over the top of his black horn-rimmed glasses. “I hear the ticking.”
Morgan sighed. “Fine. Tell me what happened between Janine and Rocky before I got here.”
“A lot of yelling and finger pointing. Mostly by Janine toward Rocky. She even tried to pull the turban off Rocky’s head.” Cal shook his head and took a sip of coffee. “They were really going at it, which is when I texted you. They finally started to settle down right after that, so I thought it’d be safe to come inside and get Jack set up.” He nodded toward the speaker, who was just finishing up.
“And that’s the story of how I solved the case of the San Francisco Strangler back in the 80’s.” Jack Steve concluded his talk on his latest book, Death by the Bay, to a round of applause. He held up both hands. “Thank you, so much.” He placed a hand over the center of this chest. “It does this old heart good to know so many of you are out there, fighting the good fight in the name of psychics everywhere.” He glanced around the room. “Even you non-psychics.” He winked and the crowd laughed. “Us sensitive types need all the support we can get.” He stepped down from the dais and meandered through the crowd, greeting well-wishers on his way to the counter where Morgan and Cal were standing.
“Jack! Oh, Jaaaaaack!” Daisy called out as she and Davey hurried over. “Would you please do us the honor of signing our copy of Psychics in Love.” She handed the well-worn book, along with a pen, to Jack. “We know you wrote it about us and can’t thank you enough. It makes us so happy.” She beamed at Davey.
“What?” Jack asked. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”
Daisy tapped his arm playfully and giggled. “Of course, you do, silly. How else could you have told our story? This is Davey Rocket and I’m Daisy.”
“Yeah, we don’t look the same as we did forty years ago. Time’ll do that to you,” Davey added.
“Davey and Daisy.” Jack rubbed his mustache for a moment, then recognition lit his eyes. “We met at a Dead concert, didn’t we? You had a booth set up next to mine and Zoe’s.”
“That’s right.” Daisy smiled. “We told you our story, then years later you wrote this wonderful book about our adventures.”
“Well, I’m so sorry
to have to tell you this, Daisy, but Psychics in Love is about my personal adventure with Zoe Buffett.” He smiled warmly. “You remember Zoe, don’t you?”
Morgan leaned toward Cal and whispered, “I’ll be needing a copy of that.”
Cal nodded. “I got you covered.”
“I remember her. But oh. Oh my,” Daisy said, frowning. “We were just so certain….”
Davey squeezed her hand. “Never forget, my love, all of our stories are part of the collective consciousness. Shared across time and space. His and Zoe’s story is our story, too.”
“Absolutely.” Jack nodded, still smiling. He signed the book and handed it back. “Thank you for being here. There’s still much more for you to do in this world. Keep being a lighthouse of love for the masses, okay?”
Daisy and Davey beamed at Jack but Morgan noticed the woman’s eyes narrow as Jack turned his back to speak to a fan.
“How about my copy? Will you sign it, too?” a man asked walking up to the gathering crowd around them.
Morgan turned around. It was the Garanimal guy. Today he was wearing black jeans and a black dachshund rescue t-shirt with white lettering. Who knew dachshunds needed rescuing? And what was his name? She searched her memory. For a cop, she was terrible with names. “Elvis, right?”
“Elvis? Who’s named Elvis. Besides the King, of course.” The guy bristled. “It hasn’t been that long since we met. You’re not good with this cop stuff, are you? I’m Trent. Not Elvis.”
“Feeling a little edgy there, Trent?” Morgan asked. She took a closer look at him.
He looked away. “I’m fine, just probably need some more coffee.”
That Morgan could understand.
Trent turned to Jack. “I’d like my book signed, if you don’t mind.”
Jack held out his hand and Trent handed over the book. “Would you like it inscribed to you? Or just autographed?”
Trent didn’t answer right away.
“I’m waiting to talk to Jack, so decide. Now,” Morgan said. “Or lose your chance.”
“Fine, fine. Just sign it. Did you know autographed books are more valuable if they’re not made out to an individual?” He looked at Morgan and frowned. “What is up with you? Are you always this grumpy and irritable? Have you had enough coffee today?”
“I am not grumpy,” Morgan said, eyes narrowed. “But I am getting irritated.”
“I’m flattered you think my book will be worth something someday.” Jack handed the signed book back to the other man.
“You should get help for your anger issues. It might help if you smiled more, too,” Trent said to Morgan. He held the book up. “Thanks,” he said as he walked away.
“He did not just tell me to smile,” Morgan said. She looked at Cal, who was trying not to laugh, when a man shouted near the back of the store.
The crowd went silent and Morgan and Cal ran toward the sound. The young man was standing outside the room where Morgan had spoken with Rocky. Rocky was still at the table except he was face down with his tarot cards spread out in front of him.
Chapter Fourteen
Morgan rushed into the room as she pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves from her back pocket. “Cal call for an ambulance!” she shouted. Morgan leaned over and checked for a pulse on Rocky Banks’s neck. Nothing. She noted the bruising on the side that was visible to her. Similar to Edna, she thought. Possibly from a rope. “Never mind the ambulance. Call Doc McVie instead.”
How the hell did this happen with all of these people around? WHILE I WAS AROUND? She looked at her watch. It had been about forty minutes since she spoke to him in the meeting room. She looked up. Cal was pale. “Cal, take a breath.”
She turned to the man. “What’s your name? And what were you doing in this area?”
He swallowed and his gaze skittered away from Rocky, but his eyes kept darting back and forth between him and Morgan.
“Sir?” Morgan said.
“I just wanted to use the bathroom.”
“Did you see anyone? Near this room?”
“No, no one.” He took a deep breath and Morgan could see he was trying to settle his nerves.
“What’s your name?”
“This is my son, Rob McGee,” Starman said as he draped a protective arm around the younger man’s shoulder. He looked past Morgan. “Shame about Rocky there. I told him to be careful.”
“Dad….” Rob began.
“Rob here is like you, Captain. Another naysayer. Started out as a lawyer.” He glanced at his son. “Doesn’t believe anything about what his old man does. Now the dude writes about it.”
“Tell me about that,” Morgan said.
“It’s a side job. I’m an investigative reporter for Out of the Shadows. We’re an online magazine. Our focus is debunking psychic phenomena. It’s why I’m here this weekend.”
“And to see your dear dad,” Starman added.
Rob grimaced. No love lost there, Morgan thought. “So, you think this is all fake?”
“Fraudulent would be the word. These people prey on those with lesser minds.”
Fraud. Bells went off in Morgan’s head. “Wow. Okay.” JJ entered the small room and Morgan nodded at him as she stepped to the side. Morgan handed Rob a piece of paper. “Write down your contact info, Rob. Please hang around. I’ll have more questions as soon as we get Rocky here settled.”
“Doc McVie will be here in a few,” JJ said.
“Okay, then. Let’s get this processed.” She turned to the gathered crowd. “Please, everyone, step back. Go to your tables. Do whatever it is you were doing before this happened. But do not leave the premises, we will be questioning all of you regarding this matter.”
“How can I help?” Cal asked. He ran a hand through his thick black hair and started pacing. “This is just horrible.”
Morgan sighed. “Murder always is.” She put a hand on his shoulder to stop his pacing. “See to your guests, make sure no one leaves. And be ready for questioning after JJ and I finish up.”
“Questioning? Seriously, Morgan. You can’t think I had anything to do with this.”
“Of course not. You were with me. I want to talk about the attendees.”
Cal stopped and closed his eyes. “Okay. That I can do.”
“Thank you,” Morgan said. She looked around the room. The walls seemed solid. But it was an old building and from Morgan’s experience getting locked in by Connie a few months back – there were nooks and crannies that even Cal probably hadn’t yet discovered. The town wasn’t short on rumors of underground tunnels used by rum runners and pirates, leading all the way from Lake Michigan to some of the older buildings. If the stories were true, there could very well be a hidden tunnel running underneath the bookstore. “You recently remodeled this room. Find any secret entrances in the process? Anything where another person could slip in and out?”
He shook his head. “No. Unlike some of the rooms, this one seems to be solid.”
“Okay. Please go herd your psychics and keep an eye out for anyone acting strange. Janine in particular since she and Rocky were just fighting. Though I don’t think she’d be strong enough to strangle someone.”
Cal lifted an eyebrow.
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Okay, stranger than usual.” She turned back to find Rob still standing outside the room. “How about you go have a seat at your dad’s table outside.” She nodded toward the back door. “JJ will take a written statement when we’re finished here.”
“A statement? I don’t know why you’d need anything else from me.” He sniffed, suddenly defensive. “After all, from what I’ve observed, you were the last person to see him alive.” Rob glared at Morgan. “Maybe you did it.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Morgan said. She was well aware of the propensity of lawyers to shift blame, though it was usually so their clients would seem innocent, not themselves.
“That’s an interesting idea. The murders did start when you returned to Bijoux, Morgan Hart. Perhaps yo
u refuse to discuss the possibility of a Detroit Killer because you are the Detroit Killer.”
Morgan didn’t bother to look behind her. “You got here awfully damn fast this time, Connie. Monitoring the police scanner?”
“Just happened to be near the station when I saw JJ run out the door. Thought it would be prudent to follow him. Turns out it was. You just can’t discount a good reporter’s instinct.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and Morgan assumed she was switching on the video camera in the phone.
Morgan held up her hand. “Do not film this. We haven’t processed the scene, let alone had any time to notify the family.”
“As the killer, I’d think you’d already know what happened here.” Connie nodded toward the body and frowned. “Though I do suppose you have to continue the ruse for the sake of appearances.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” Rob said. He extended a hand to Connie. “Rob McGee, lawyer and investigative reporter of so-called psychics.”
Connie shook his hand. “Interesting. I obviously overheard your theory that Morgan here killed poor Rocky. I like it.”
“Of course you do,” Morgan said. “How about you both move along?”
The bookstore crowd started murmuring. “The police captain might be the killer,” they whispered. “Detroit Killer.” “Murderer right here in front of us.” “Don’t be alone with her.”
“Unbelievable!” Jack boomed. “Inconceivable!”
Unbelievable and inconceivable, yes, Morgan thought. Obviously these psychics were way off their supposed game if they thought she was the killer. She approached Connie and whispered, “If you honestly believe I’m capable of such a thing, then you may want to back off.”
Connie smirked, but took a step back and slipped her phone back in her pocket.
Morgan turned to Jack. “What are you bellowing about?”
“The very thought this could happen while I was here in the store and didn’t pick up on the break in the psychic connection we all share.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand and several people ducked out of the way. “There’s been a break in the continuum and it was, somehow, masked to all the psychics gathered here.” He squinted at Morgan. “What type of witch are you?”