THE WITCH'S LADDER (Detective Marcella Witch's Series)

Author:Donovan, Dana [Donovan, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-09-20T16:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Aside from attending psychic workshops in the evening, Michael, like most in the group, held down a full-time job during the day. He worked at a local hardware store, and it was there that I came to see him on the morning after the gazebo fire. He was in the paint aisle stocking shelves when I approached him from behind.

“What’s the best thing for cover-ups?” I asked.

He answered without turning around. “Indoor paint or outdoor?”

“No paint, just cover-ups.”

“You’re talking about the Surgeon Stalker. Aren’t you, Detective?” He turned to me slowly.

“That’s all I can talk about these days. It’s getting out of hand and it seems there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sure you know about Lieberman?”

“I heard. I suppose now you believe the killer has singled out our workshop for some reason.”

“Oh, I’ve imagined that much already, ever since Chris Walker and my deputy were murdered. But you know what I don’t understand?”

“No, sir?”

“Doctor Lieberman. I don’t understand why the killer beat and tortured him before taking his liver. The other victims showed no signs of torture. Did you know the killer cut his head off?”

“They did?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Should I have?”

“You said you heard about it.”

“I don’t know then. Maybe I did.”

I nodded. “Actually, it wasn’t completely severed. The killer left it hanging like a Pez dispenser.” I smiled thinly and paused to take note of Michael’s body language. My comment was crude; I knew that, but I meant it to measure his sensitivity to the subject. I also knew that although it was important to listen to what Michael said, I would likely gain more information from the way he said it. I listened and watched, but his response yielded neither amusement nor contempt: only a blank stare. In my book, even a lack of response can sometimes tell volumes.

“You know, Michael, I’m surprised you’re here. Did you know Leona and the twins have gone into hiding?”

“Oh?”

“So we think. That is to say we found the twins’ car last night, abandoned out by the lake. You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

“No, sir. Maybe some kids stole it and drove it out there.”

“No, I don’t so. We found the keys in the ignition. I’m pretty sure the girls drove it there. The car seat was pulled up as far as it could go and the steering wheel was telescoped out, you know, like someone small had been driving: someone like Shekina or Akasha.”

“That is strange, Detective, but like I said, I don’t know.”

“How `bout Leona? Can you think of where she might be hiding out? Something tells me she’s the key to this whole thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“The other night, before she ran out of the room, she said something in Spanish. Do you know what it was?”

“My Spanish isn’t that great. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“She said she knew who the killer was. Do you think that’s possible?”

“Detective, anything’s possible. You should know that by now.”

“Yes. I’m beginning to see that.” I gestured farewell by tugging on the brim of my hat before turning away.

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