Page 21 of Ghostmaker

“And the payment for the free reading is whatever damage this maniac causes Christie’s mother,” Cope concluded. “What the hell are we going to do?”

Carson shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Cope didn’t either, but one thing was for certain, Christie’s mother was in very serious danger, which led Cope to realize an even bigger problem. “In the pictures we saw on social media yesterday, the line to see Crawford stretched down the street. If he compelled all of those clients to reveal their deepest darkest desires for revenge, then there are more people in danger than Christie’s mother.”

“I think it’s time to call Jude now.”

“Me too.” Cope grabbed his phone and tried to figure out how the hell he was going to explain this story to his husband.

11

Jude

Jude and Ronan were sitting at the kitchen table quietly reading. They’d spent the afternoon going over Alice Strickland’s case file. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot to go on. Time of death, according to the medical examiner, had been around 4:00 P.M., which ruled West out as a suspect. The tenants who lived in the building had all been at work and their alibis proven. Which left investigators with zero suspects. It was easy to see how the case had gone cold.

According to the tenants, Alice worked, spent Thursday nights with friends; dinner and either a movie or listening to live music in one of the many Boston night spots and Friday’s with West. The tenants never heard a cross word come out of Alice’s mouth and she never mentioned difficulties with her friends or West. Alice’s coworkers said the same thing. There was no one in the office Alice had problems with. She brought fresh pastries every Friday and organized pot luck lunches once a month. In a word, Alice Strickland had been beloved.

When it came to witnesses, no one in the neighborhood saw anything out of the ordinary. After the murder, West had made pleas through the media for anyone who knew anything or saw anything in regard to his mother’s death to come forward. Those messages garnered dozens of all calls, but none of them turned into actual leads.

“It’s like this killer is a ghost,” Ronan said, setting down the witness reports he’d been reading.

“Yeah,” Jude agreed. “Or someone who naturally blends into life in that neighborhood. Mailman. UPS driver. Pizza delivery guy. Someone completely unremarkable. Someone no one would take notice of.”

“Cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the head,” Ronan paused. “I’m guessing the killer wouldn’t have been in the house for longer than a minute or two, which is what you’d expect when you got a pizza delivered or a UPS driver had a delivery you needed to sign for.”

“We’re going to have to reach out to the former tenants and neighbors to see if there’s anything else they remember. After fifteen years, my hopes aren’t high.” Jude shook his head. “We’ll also see what Ten and Cope think. Maybe they’ll feel something or can connect with Alice’s ghost again.”

Commotion from the front door signaled Cope’s arrival. Tennyson was with him. “Have we got a story to tell you.” Cope slumped into a seat at the table.

“We’re going to need your help.” Ten shook his head. “You’re professional help.”

“What the hell did the two of you do?” Jude asked. “Jaywalk?” He couldn’t imagine Cope or Ten doing anything that would require police assistance.

“It’s about Jonas Crawford.” Ten sighed, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Ten,” Ronan muttered. “I thought we agreed that you would stay away from that prick.”

“We did stay away from him. One of his clients came to see us this morning.” Ten grabbed bottles of water out of the fridge, giving one to Cope and keeping one for himself.

“Terrified out of her mind that Crawford is coming for her family,” Cope added.

“Start from the beginning.” Jude didn’t like the sound of this one bit. In all of the years he and Cope had been together, none of his husband’s clients had ever been terrified after a reading, period. The idea that Cope would physically hurt a client was absurd. What the hell was this Jonas Crawford involved in?

“A woman named Christie came into the shop this morning dressed as a T-rex,” Cope began.

Jude’s mouth fell open. “Someone came into the shop in an inflatable dinosaur costume and asked to see you and Ten?”

“This is going to go a lot faster if you just listen.” Cope rolled his eyes. “Anyway, this woman told us that she’d visited Crawford’s shop for one of his free readings two mornings ago. She wanted to know if her boyfriend was going to propose and instead of answering that simple question, Crawford zeroed in on the fact that this woman was estranged from her mother, who’d been an abusive alcoholic when Christie was a kid.”

“Christie said she felt compelled to tell Crawford the entire story, which is exactly what happened to me and Cope when we went to see him ourselves,” Ten added.

“Last night, someone showed up at the mother’s house and started ringing the doorbell at half past eleven. The bell was rung over and over. The mother didn’t answer the door and instead hid in the closet and called the police. When the police arrived, there was no one there.” Cope paused, his eyes on Jude, who still looked gobsmacked. “Christie and the mother are afraid this person will come back again tonight. We advised them to go to a hotel for the night and that we’d speak to the two of you.”

“I heard everything you just said, but why was the woman dressed in a T-rex costume?” Jude knew this wasn’t the most important part of the story, but why the hell was this woman in disguise?

“Because Crawford made her sign a non-disclosure agreement. She says she isn’t allowed to speak about her reading to anyone or Crawford would sue her.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jude turned to Ronan. “That’s not legal, is it?”