Paradise, WV by Rob Rufus

Author:Rob Rufus [Rufus, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Turner Publishing Company
Published: 2021-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

26

How much dirt is enough dirt to warrant a warrant?

Garcia hunched over the desk, her frustration lit by the glow of the computer screen. She ran a hand through her unwashed hair. She sipped her two hundredth cup of coffee. She brooded.

She needed that warrant.

She needed into Eugene Palmer’s house.

All other investigative avenues were blurs in her mind—she had to see inside the haunted house before she could consider other possibilities, other suspects, other narratives. If she was still with CPD, she already would’ve kicked in his door. But Garcia had sacrificed too much for her rank to risk losing it on a violation. She needed a clean solve … yet the case was a mess.

She followed up with Carrie Clemmons’s friends, and none had seen Eugene Palmer at the podcast. He had no priors. No family. Nothing but a small inheritance and an online store—Creepy Collectables. She checked it out. He sold trinkets from killers and victims alike. Funeral pamphlets, rare items (a turtleneck worn by Ted Bundy listed for $1,050.00, plus shipping).

THINK! He lives in a haunted house. There must be other ways inside. THINK!

Think hidden passages, think secret doors …

Think obvious ones.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Lusher.”

“Happy I could pencil you in.”

Garcia smiled politely. Harlan Lusher smiled back. They sat across from each other in Salem Hill’s one-on-one interview room. A guard was posted outside. Lusher was in shackles.

“You and Jane have the same smile,” she said.

“My daughter?” His ankle restraints scratched the cement floor as he shot upright.

“I met her, and your son,” she said. “They seem like sweet kids.”

“I’m sorry, how exactly do you know them?”

“One of their schoolmates was murdered on Saturday, a girl on Jane’s soccer team. She and the victim supposedly got into an altercation a few hours before—”

“Jane would never hurt anyone!”

“I agree.” Garcia nodded. “But the victim was stabbed through the eyes …”

Clock the genuine distress on his face …

He may be a psycho killer, but at least he loves his kids.

“Obviously,” she continued, “the sooner I clear her and your son, the better for all of us.”

“What can I do?” he urged. “How can I help?”

“Do you ever get fan mail? People asking about the specifics of your crimes?”

“I couldn’t give specifics,” he snapped. “I’m innocent. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“But you know what I mean.”

“I get a lot of disturbing letters from a lot of disturbed people. I rarely bother reading them, and I never write back.”

“Have you ever been contacted by a man named Eugene Palmer?”

Clock that arched eyebrow. He knows the name …

“I complained to Warden O’Neil about that guy months ago,” he said. “They finally quit sending his letters through. I’m not sure how they got past the sorting team in the first place.”

“He wrote to you?” she asked.

“Continuously—”

“Did he ever ask for advice?” Garcia urged. “Did he ever say he was planning anything?”

“He mentioned the murders, of course. But as far as planning … no. I got the impression Eugene is a very sick man.

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