Page 37 of Jon's Helter Skelter Cold Case

“Please? We have very, very little to work off right now and any clue would be helpful.”

“I gotcha. We’re a little tied up over here, but tell you what. Send the evidence to me via courier. He’ll do his best with it when he gets a chance to try.”

Donovan started texting Tyson to gather the evidence.

“All I can ask. Thanks, man.”

Abby piped up over my shoulder. “Do you know of a psychic who can make things like this?”

“I do not. I’m now intrigued, though. I’m definitely going to ask around and see if anyone does.”

“We talked to Alan—Grant’s anchor—who has been doing some research on psychic types, and he’s put together a short list of psychics who can. I can have someone send it over to you. We’re just curious if you know of anything else aside from what he’s dug up.”

“Wait, he’s putting together a full psychic list?”

“With anecdotes.”

“I will get Alan federal funding if he gives us a copy. I’m not kidding.”

“I’m sure he’ll take it.”

Donovan gave me a nod like he was already planning on passing the offer along. He was good on the uptake like that.

“Havili, shoot me Alan’s phone number. I want to talk to him myself.”

“That I can do.”

“Thanks. I’m now super intrigued. Get me that weapon pronto.”

“Sure thing. Tyson said he’d run it over to you, so expect it tomorrow.”

“Will do. Hang on a sec.” The sound through the phone became a bit muffled for a few seconds. “Gotta run. Keep me posted.”

“We will. Bye.”

Donovan disconnected the call and then started texting over information.

“Gonzalez seems cool?” Abby asked.

“Javier’s very cool. We love working with him. Which doesn’t happen a lot, but when it does, it’s usually because shit has hit the fan.”

Donovan snorted in wry agreement. “Like when crazy people go around attacking women for no reason.”

“Hush. I’m trying to purge that one from my memory. Anyway. His husband, Marc, is a very powerful Tracer. I’m really hoping he can get us a lead.”

“Me too. Dwayne needs it,” Abby said.

She wasn’t wrong there. We had to find the real perp, and Dwayne’s sister, if we were to ever fully exonerate Dwayne.

We finally,finallygot to the right exit for the prison. Freedom from I-24! God, I hated that freeway.

It took a few minutes to reach the prison itself, then we unloaded and did the song and dance of signing in to visit. I wanted to see for myself that Dwayne was doing better, but we also had several things to run by him.

Donovan had called ahead, so they knew we were coming to visit him. This time, we went into a different wing of the prisonand to a much more open visiting room. Nothing high security—instead it had a more comfortable setting of table and chairs without handcuffs being involved. Dwayne was already in the room waiting on us when we arrived.

Abby slipped by Donovan and went in for a hug. “Hi, Dwayne!”

Dwayne gave her the most genuine smile I’d seen him give, hugging her back, lines sparking chartreuse with happiness. “Hi, Abby. Thanks for coming.”

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