Never Forget by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blake Pierce
Published: 2022-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dale leaned forward toward May, and she heard him speak again, in a voice so soft it was little more than a whisper.

Her ears were straining, waiting to catch every word. Every syllable. Right now, any information might give them a lead, and although she hoped for a confession, she knew Dale was also very familiar with the area. If he was not the killer, he might have heard or seen something important.

“Those houses, down the bottom, I don’t go there, and I would never go inside,” he murmured to her. “I used to pass by them, years ago, and that’s when I realized that those houses are haunted. Particularly number four Windrush. That’s as haunted as you can get.”

May’s eyes widened. This was not what she’d expected and in fact, not something she’d thought this man would say at all. It hadn’t seemed like who he was. She was startled by this.

Number four Windrush was where the writers retreat had been held.

“Haunted?” Owen repeated, surprised.

Now that his inhibitions to speak had been overcome, there was no stopping Dale as he continued. “Everyone who lives nearby, or who has lived there, knows it. I’ve seen and heard things myself. Weird voices, movements and sounds, lights flickering in empty rooms. Shadows going in and out. If you ask me, it’s the ghost that has been doing these killings.”

May sighed. She’d just pushed herself to the limits in this frenzied chase, only to discover that this suspect had nothing coherent to say.

“I’ve been back to that part of town recently since I’ve been out of prison. As I told you. I love the area, it’s like, my heart place, you know? But I don’t go down the hill that far. I saw them there, still there, for sure. The house was empty, but it wasn’t. Ghosts don’t go away. It’s haunted, and always will be.”

May was wondering if all this talk of ghosts could be a distraction to try and deflect their attention from the fact that he was the killer. If it was, she needed to check his alibi. If not, she needed to figure out if this information was going to be useful or important. Perhaps she could learn something from his local knowledge.

“Where were you earlier this afternoon?” she asked, knowing that the timing of the most recent murder would be the easiest of the three alibis to confirm. His answer surprised her.

“I was at the roadhouse,” he said. “As of last week, I have a job there. I wash dishes and clean up the tables there, six days a week, from one p.m. to six-thirty p.m. I can show you my message confirming the employment, and also my timecard. I have it on my phone.”

He took his phone out and showed her the texts he’d received for getting the job, and the automatic confirmation texts for clocking in and out of work.

That would have ruled out the time frame for the most recent murder, May knew, and since this was a serial crime, being cleared of one meant being cleared of all.

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