Page 130 of Power of the Mind

“And Sally knows Rowena.” I turned the question into a statement so the bear would go back into hiding as I absorbed the information.

“Rowena knew you because we went to talk to Hilty last week and asked about his past. We got him fired up.”

“And you think Hilty told her about us?”

“Or Sally Soape. We mentioned the incident in eighty-six to her, remember? It probably raised red flags.”

“And she’s watching us now?”

Diem grunted indeterminately.

“So what do we do? What does this mean? Should we go to the police?”

“With what?” Diem sped up to get around another car and changed lanes. “Think about it. What do you have?”

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know.”

“It’s your case, hotshot. Talk it out.”

“Okay. We have eleven dead people and a psycho who tried to rape my brain not five minutes ago. That’s what we have, and I don’t like it. I still feel her finger-fondling my frontal lobe.” I shivered. “It’s disturbing.”

“You’re fine, and it’s not enough.”

“How are eleven dead people not enough?”

“Because, according to their autopsies, they have perfectly explainable reasons for being dead.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It won’t fly, Tallus. We need proof of something truly sinister, and we don’t have it yet.”

“But we’re closer, right?”

“I don’t know. There’s something shady going on, but I’m not sure what. Although, we’re starting to see more players on thefield. That’s good. Call Sally Mrs. White if it helps. I don’t fucking know. Think.”

I internally smiled at Diem’s reference to Clue as I glanced out the window. Cars moved along beside us. We were on an overpass. The city stretched for miles, gray and dingy, steel, glass, and concrete. Night lingered on the horizon, leaching the color from the sky and the world. It edged closer as Diem took an exit.

“Where are we going?”

“Office. We need to consider the evidence and stop running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

“Speaking of chicken. I’m starving and left Kitty’s wonderful chicken alfredo in my car. Dammit. I’ve been looking forward to it all day. Turn around.”

“No.”

I whined and pouted. “But I’m hungry and broke. Please.”

Diem ground his teeth, growled once, then turned around because the poor man had no backbone when it came to me, and Kitty was right. I was a manipulative asshole who used it to my advantage.

I retrieved my car and met Diem at the office, where I reluctantly shared the enormous serving of homemade pasta Kitty had so graciously given me.

30

Diem

“We should make a murder board, like the ones they use in police dramas,” Tallus said once he’d scarfed his food. I had a feeling it was the first time he’d eaten all day. In fact, something told me his meals were sporadic at best.

“We don’t need a murder board, and stop watching that shit on TV. It’s not real, and it makes you reckless.”

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