Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I’m halfway to the Thorne Hill Police Department when I remember I should have gone to the Paradise Valley PD instead. I got in the car all jittery and panicked that I wasted too much time helping shut all the windows in the house when another storm quickly blew in, and drove on autopilot to the police department we had just recently visited.
“Shit,” I mutter and pull into a parking lot to turn around. I speed through a yellow light, accelerating fast, and reach over to grab my phone from my purse. I don’t know the address of the Paradise Valley Police Department. It’s somewhere in the downtown area, but exactly where, I don’t know. I swerve slightly and stop reaching for my phone, not wanting to cause an accident. I’ll grab it and check for the address at the next stoplight.
But then I see flashing lights in my rearview. Fuck! Speeding through an intersection and then swerving probably makes me look like a drunk driver. It’s been years since I’ve been pulled over and tonight I’m hoping I can flirt my way out of a ticket so I can get on my way.
Shaking my hair back, I look down and adjust my shirt to show off as much cleavage as I can, which is hard since I’m not gifted in that department. Then I turn down my music and look in the rearview mirror, waiting for the cop to come out of the car.
“Oh fuck’s sake,” I huff when I see Officer Maxwell start to walk over. Is this the universe’s way of telling me going to the cops and saying I’m a psychic is a terrible idea? Trying to keep a pleasant look on my face, I roll down my window. Maybe he won’t remember me.
“Hi,” I say and Officer Maxwell’s face lets me know he already ran my plates and knows exactly who I am. “Long time no see.” I mentally wince. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Miss Benson. Do you know why I pulled you over.”
“I, um, think I might have run a red light and I might be speeding. I’m sorry, I’m in a hurry.” My plan is to talk to the cops and there’s one right here in front of me. “I was on my way to the police station.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“I would be if I were going to the Thorne Hill one, but I need to talk to the police in Paradise Valley.”
He gives me a you really expect me to buy this bullshit look and slowly inhales.
“I have info that can solve a cold case,” I blurt.
“You do?” He puts his forearm on the top of my door and leans in. “Dare I ask?”
“I am a psychic and my friend’s aunt bought that big house in Paradise Valley where those girls were murdered in the 80s and asked me to come do a reading. I did and now I have info.”
“You know wasting an officer of the law’s time is a crime, right?”
“I’m well aware.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“At home. These murders happened in 1988, it couldn’t have been him.” God, I really need to learn to stop talking when I’m nervous. “And I’m being serious. I know who killed those girls and I know he’s still out there, killing more people.”
“You know I was on a team that reopened that case about twelve years ago. I’m familiar with it. Prove to me you’re actually a psychic by telling me something the public wouldn’t know. Because that case is still talked about in Paradise Valley today.”
“Both girls practiced Wicca and they had a pentagram wreath made out of sticks hanging on the wall between their beds. Marissa was killed first and Allison was drugged, unable to move, and had to watch. The killer strangled them, cut out their tongues, and drew an upside down cross on their forehead with their own blood. Marissa was in blue pajamas at the time of her death and Allison was just wearing a tank top and her underwear. They both had locks of hair cut off, kept as trophies.”
Officer Maxwell straightens up, taken aback but how accurate I was with the little details, I’m sure. “Breaking into evidence and reading confidential files is also a crime.”
“A crime I’m not guilty of.” I nervously bite my lip. “I wouldn’t go to the police after my boyfriend was just framed for murder if this wasn’t serious.”
Officer Maxwell looks at me, considering everything I just said for a long moment. “Are you familiar with Susy’s Café?’
“Uh, yeah?”
“We can talk there. I’ll follow behind you.”
This means he believes me, right? “Okay, thank you.”
He pats the roof of my Prius and gives me a curt nod before walking back to his squad car. Fingers trembling, I hit the lock button on my door instead of rolling up my window. I need to get it the fuck together. Forcing myself to take a breath, I get my window rolled up and turn on my blinker, waiting for a car to pass so I can pull onto the street.