Angela Campbell - Something Wicked

Alexandra . He loved that name. Loved that she didn’t shorten it. She’d been on his mind on and off all morning. How long was she staying in town? For all he knew, she’d already checked out, and that would suck. He itched to lay eyes on a living, breathing woman after spending the morning with the lifeless one at the cemetery. He wanted to hold someone, feel her warmth soak into his skin like medicine, and remind him not everything in this world was bad.

He knocked on the captain’s door and entered.

And then froze.

“Collins, get in here,” the captain ordered after a minute, his attention half focused on the computer screen in front of him. Dylan stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his eyes not leaving the woman seated in the chair in front of his boss.

Her eyes wide, Alexandra looked about two shades paler than he remembered as she gawked back at him.

“Detective Collins, this is Alexandra King.”

Dylan nodded but couldn’t manage to push out any words. What was she doing here?

The captain looked at him, leaned back in his seat and tented his fingers. “Miss King is a private investigator from Atlanta. She also happens to be a psychic medium, and she’s offered her services to us on this case free of charge.”

Private investigator? Psychic medium?

Hell.

The captain held up his hand in a hear-me-out gesture and nodded toward his phone. “Miss King comes highly recommended from some of my friends in the Colorado police bureau. I’d like for you to include her on this case.”

“What? Captain, we never—”

“You talking back to me, son?” Captain Lloyd Devereux pushed his chubby body out of the seat. His finger tapped the top of his desk for emphasis as he spoke. “The victim was the niece of a county councilman. How long do you think it’s going to be before there’s pressure to turn this over to SLED or call in the feds?”

Probably a day at most before someone begged the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division to send a man in to help.

Pushing a hand through his hair, Dylan said nothing, just met the older man’s eyes. As the youngest detective in this department, he’d learned not to press his luck. He suspected the captain hadn’t liked him since the day Dylan had transferred in from Baton Rouge last year. No idea why. Dylan’s cases were always handled professionally, and his conviction rate was higher than anyone else’s in the division. He was good at his job. He took pride in that.

“Sir, I mean nothing but respect here, but I don’t understand. I’ve never worked with a psychic before on a case.” He glanced at Alexandra then back to his boss. “I’m a little curious why we’re even considering this. It’s not like this is a cold case we’re working.”

Devereux relaxed his stance. “I don’t want this to become a high profile case, and if that means taking advantage of Miss King’s help, so be it. Hear her out. If she can’t help, fine. Let me know. But until then, she’s consulting. I’m already drawing up the paperwork.” He reached for something on his desk. “We don’t do it often, but we’ve listened to what some so-called psychics have had to say before. Here. This is what convinced me to give Miss King a shot.”

The captain tossed a yellow steno pad across the desk in front of Dylan. The older man said nothing, just waited for Dylan to glance at what was drawn on the paper. When he did, Dylan swore.

Scribbled on the page was a child-like drawing of a hooded figure holding a scythe. A grim reaper.

“Miss King said she had a vision of that when she read the article in the paper this morning. She thought it was relevant. I haven’t confirmed or denied to her that it is.”

Dylan took a deep breath and glanced at the woman still staring at him as if Bigfoot had walked into the room in his place.

He picked up the steno pad and gestured with it, focusing on his superior. “Did this get leaked to the press?”

“No.” Captain Devereux sighed. “I don’t want it to, either. Once she signs the non-disclosure agreement, show her what you need to from the files. Take her to the crime scene and see if she can give you anything. I want these cases solved before any reporters piece together the facts. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Their desk clerk Kathy knocked on the door and said, “I’ve got that contract ready, sir.”

“Miss King, if you go with Kathy, she’ll explain everything to you.” To Kathy, he said, “Let Detective Collins know as soon as everything is filed. He’ll be waiting at his desk.”

Dylan glanced at Alexandra as she stood to follow the other woman and wondered who she thought she was fooling. Had he talked in his sleep last night, said something about these cases to tip her off? She still looked shell-shocked. He’d never told her his name. Maybe she hadn’t known he was the detective in charge of this case, but maybe she had. Maybe she was a great actress, pretending to be shocked to see him.

His libido wasn’t driving anymore. His cop instincts had taken the wheel.

She could be involved. An accomplice. They could be toying with the police.

Maybe she’d come to Charleston to scam them, or had she seen a chance and jumped at it when she read the paper this morning? He couldn’t remember seeing her at the bar before last night. He’d have to make inquiries at the inn to find out when she’d checked in. Find out why she was in town. She could have been watching him for days.

The captain instructed Dylan to close the door behind her.

“I know you don’t like doing this, but we’ve got three homicides connected by this.” Devereux gestured to the drawing on the notepad. “And we don’t have a single lead yet. It’s only a matter of time before the press calls us out and starts proclaiming we’ve got a serial killer in the city. I don’t need that kind of grief. Understand me?”

Dylan crossed his arms and nodded over his shoulder. “How do you think she knows about the reaper? You really believe she’s psychic?”

“I have no idea, but I’m desperate enough to give her a chance to prove herself. Do me a favor, Collins, and do the same.” The captain reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of pills. “What is Dempsey saying? He confirmed anything yet?”

Dylan shook his head and thought back to his conversation with the coroner. “He said he’d try to have a report to me after lunch, but it depends on when the autopsy is done. Don’t worry. I’ve called, and they know it’s a priority.”

“Head over there and make sure they hurry. Take King with you.”

Dylan clenched his jaw to keep from arguing. “Anything else?”

“Just keep me informed.” The captain gestured toward the door, giving him permission to leave, but adding one last comment. “My friend in Denver isn’t an easy guy to impress, and he was impressed by her. She might surprise us.”

He didn’t tell the captain she already had.

Dylan went back to his desk and did a search on Alexandra King. She came up empty on a criminal records background check. Her driver’s license had recently changed from Colorado to Georgia. No past bankruptcies. Divorced. Interestingly, she had filed for an order of protection against a man named Kevin Alred a few months before she’d moved from Denver to Atlanta, but the details in the system were slim.

The internet gave him hits on several articles from Colorado, citing her involvement in cold cases, and a few more hits on spiritual conventions at which she’d appeared as a guest.

He added private detective to her name in the search field, but no new results came up. Had she lied about being a private investigator? If so, it would be easy enough to determine. PIs were required to be licensed in most states.