Page 50 of Jon's Helter Skelter Cold Case

“Thank you,” he choked out. “All of you. You’ve really gone the extra mile for me and I appreciate it more than anything.”

“Trust me, this isn’t over yet, but we’re happy to help. Now.” Marc sat back a little. “While I was trying to trace this thing, I did get something of a hit. It was very brief. About fifteen seconds altogether, but I did get something of a location for our perp. They’re in Georgia somewhere. Know anyone from Georgia?”

“Uh. Well, my aunt, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with this. She was devastated when Tylesia went missing. She’s also in a wheelchair, so…”

“Likely not the culprit. Dwayne, as painful as this question is, is there any chance your sister set this whole thing up?”

“No way in hell.” His answer was strong and immediate. “Tye loved me to pieces, and I her. Besides, I always told her, if she didn’t want to be my anchor for whatever reason, I’d break the bond and let her go. She was adamant she didn’t want to leave. This wasn’t her doing.”

“Okay. I had to ask, you understand. Now, the good news is, there’s not many Materializers. Perhaps a dozen altogether in the US.”

Oh? This was really good news. The fewer there were, the easier it would be to sort through them.

“Honestly, him materializing everything instead of sourcing it is going to be in our favor. The perp was too clever for his own good.”

“You know?That sparks joy.”

Marc grinned like a kid with a new Lego set. “Doesn’t it, though?”

“Does that mean you can just look up Materializers who live in Georgia and find him?”

“Well, we can’t assume they live in Georgia. Could have just been passing through. What I’d really like to know is how I’m being blocked from tracing him. It’s a mean feat, and honestly, I’ve only had one other case where it happened. If this asshat is blocking not only me, but also Carol and Grant Walker? Then they’re doing something hinky.”

Hinky sounded about right.

Jon had his thinking cap on, I could tell from his expression.

“I think,” he opined, “that if we can figure out how the shielding works, then we might be in a better state of either finding the perp or finding a way around it. Might be something of a tough road, though.”

Gonzalez winced. “Yeah. I’ve already spent hours talking this over with Marc and not coming up with an answer, but maybe someone else will come up with a great idea. In the meantime, we’ve got a dozen people to interview and sift through. One way or another, we’ll figure this out.”

“I’m counting on you. Um. Quick tangent, but with you two here, can I have you as witnesses in my civil case?”

Civil case? Oh, right.

Seeing Marc’s and Gonzalez’s confusion, I clarified. “He’s suing the detective who declared him the perp to begin with. Name’s Solomon. We have a long, long history of Solomon screwing people over, and this is one of those times where we have him caught red-handed, so Dwayne’s pursuing a civil case against him.”

Marc’s grin turned feral. “Oh, I do like to take the arrogant ones down a peg. I’d behappyto be a material witness for you.”

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Trust me, this will be fun. All right, Dwayne, we’re going to hop off. My husband and I have to plow through all of this material to see how much of it is useful, useless, or something we can use against Solomon—that’s his name? Right, against Solomon in your civil case. We’ll touch base with you the second we have more questions, okay?”

“Sounds great. Thanks again. Bye, guys!”

“Bye.” I reached out and ended the call.

Marc and Gonzalez looked at us. We looked at them.

Abby cleared her throat. “Um, so, it sounds like even you’re not sure Tye is actually dead. So how do we prove whether or not she’s alive? And how do we track down the Materializer short of interviewing people all over the country?”

Jon let out a decade’s worth of sighs. “One question at a time, Abby. One question at a time.”

18

I was in the shower, getting ready for work, when the love of my life walked into the bathroom with phone in hand and an intrigued expression. I stopped soaping the bod for a second, reading his lines through the foggy glass with some difficulty, then gave up. This was one of those moments it was just better to ask.

“Babe, what’s up?”

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