The Traveler: Book 5, The Eddie McCloskey Paranormal Mystery Series (The Unearthed) (10 page)

“What case?”

By now the news had gotten out why Eddie was here. Meade either didn’t know or was a really good liar.

Christie said, “We’re not at liberty to disclose that information. Can we come in?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

The man was six feet tall, almost as tall as Eddie. Christie, on the other hand, was five-three in heels. Meade could have squashed her. But she showed no fear. Just kept her intense calm.

She ran neither hot nor cold. He admired her for that ability. Eddie had worked on his temper over the years but it still flared, and usually at the worst times. He kept his eyes on Christie, hoping to absorb some of her calm.

Christie managed to grow
calmer
. It was another gear he didn’t know she had. When she spoke again, there was no edge to her voice, no menace, but a straightforwardness that left Meade no choice but to do what she asked.

She looked him dead in the eye. “We are going to ask you some questions. We can do it here or we can do it down at the station. Which would you prefer?”

Meade opened the door.

***

The living room was a mess. Meade made a perfunctory attempt to clean it, but all he did was pick up some old newspapers off the coffee table and toss them into the trash. Eddie counted five empty glasses scattered around the room, and there were paperbacks piled everywhere.

The recliner was leaned back, the footrest extended. Eddie smiled. So they had caught Meade sleeping.

Meade got back into the recliner and asked them to sit.

Eddie took one look at the couch and decided to stand. Christie did the same.

“Are you alone?” she asked.

Meade nodded. “My lady moved out a month ago, so it’s just me.”

“There’s nobody else in this apartment?”

“I said no.”

“Mind if I take a look around, then?”

“What for?”

Christie gave him that disarming look.

Message received and understood. Meade said, “Yeah, go ahead.”

So far, so good. Now Eddie was alone with Meade and could ask him questions freely. If he crossed any lines and Meade later complained, it would be Eddie’s word against Meade’s. Christie like Eddie’s odds in those situations. Eddie could deny anything Meade said. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but it was a workaround that Christie was okay with.

Christie gave Eddie the nod before she left the room.

Eddie pretended to be interested in Meade’s books. He bent at the waist to check out one pile on the floor by the front door.

“Mr. Meade, I was wondering if you’d heard from Adrian Perks.”

Eddie continued to look at the books and waited for Meade’s response.

He was a long time answering. “What do you mean?”

“Come on.” Eddie stood back up and finally looked at him. “Everybody knows.”

“Everybody knows what?”

“That he’s been by here. We got a call about it.”

“One of my neighbors?” Meade balled his fists. “Bunch of assholes. I’m moving. I can’t get no peace around here.”

Eddie didn’t say what he was thinking. “I didn’t say neighbor. So it’s true?”

“He’s fucking dead,” Meade said.

Eddie ignored that. “You two were buddies.”

“That ain’t a crime.”

“It is if you were withholding information from the police.”

“I had no idea what the asshole was up to.”

Meade and Perks had known each other since childhood, having grown up in a neighboring town that bused its kids to Rariville High School. Their shared interests had changed over the years, from baseball cards and bicycles, to hockey, to girls, to beer, to pot, then to the hard stuff and the harder women.

“Looking back, are you surprised?”

“Yeah. I had no idea.”

Eddie smiled. “Look, I’m not a cop and Christie is in the other room. If there’s anything you want to tell me, it’ll stay between us.”

Meade pushed the footrest back down and sat up in the recliner. “There’s nothing I know. And if I did, why the fuck would I share it with you?”

“Because this could get ugly.” Eddie lowered his voice, like he wanted to keep this a private conversation. “They don’t want to reopen the Perks case, because that’s not good for anybody. Our conversation right now is going to stay between me and you. That’s why Christie left the room. But if you don’t cooperate, we’ll take the gloves off and the cops will start looking into everything you do.”

Meade scowled.

“You don’t want the cops looking over your shoulder.”

Meade’s scowl deepened. “Tell me what you want.”

“Perks. Has he been around?”

“He’s fucking dead. How could he be?”

Eddie studied Meade. The guy wasn’t lying. Perks was dead. But that didn’t mean he was telling the truth either.

“I know he’s dead. That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said.

Meade’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

Eddie stood in front of him and looked down. “Has Perks visited you recently?”

“What?” Meade’s hard scowl softened into a smile. “You mean like a ghost?”

Eddie said nothing.

Meade laughed incredulously. “Are you outta your fucking mind?”

***

“Well?” Christie asked. She’d been listening from the other room and had formed her own opinion. But she hadn’t been able to see Meade. Communication was just as much body language as words, so Eddie had a better perspective on the conversation.

“He’s telling the truth. No doubt in my mind,” Eddie said.

They sat in her cruiser. Outside it was a bright, but cold, day.

After Eddie had finished with Meade, Christie had gone through the more routine questions with the guy.

Christie nodded. “I thought so too. His recall from the last few nights is good but not too good. People who have alibis prepared are usually too polished. Meade was telling the truth. We’ll confirm his whereabouts through the people he mentioned but I don’t think it will go anywhere.”

Eddie said, “Where to next?”

***

Christie followed the GPS to another part of town. Eddie watched the houses get smaller, the lawns less well-maintained, the cars older and cheaper.

“This woman and I have a history,” Christie said.

“I’ll bet.”

“You won’t hear me say a lot of bad things about people, but this woman is trash.”

“What kind of trash?”

“Drugs, serial marrier and serial cheater, booze. Welfare mom, but we found out her kids don’t even live with her. Grandma takes care of them while she pockets the money.”

“At least she’s not a racist.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention. She likes calling me egg roll sucker.”

Eddie liked hearing her talk dirty, even if she was just quoting someone else. “Creative.”

“Very.”

“I’ve been around more than a few like her in my day.” Eddie looked at her. “Do you think she helped Perks?”

“She’s a lot of terrible things.”

“But?”

Christie thought about it as she slowed and pulled into a long, dirt driveway. She parked and looked at Eddie. “I don’t know if she could do this.”

Eddie looked around the property. The house was old. Its wood paneling had greyed. The roof sagged on one side and the shingles were loose.

They got out of the car and walked through the muddy, grassless yard to the front door. Three baby strollers crowded the tiny porch, preventing Christie and Eddie from standing side-by-side.

“You are the calmest person I’ve ever met,” Eddie said.

Christie smiled an unreadable smile. Then she knocked.

The door opened. A man filled the doorway. He wore a tank top that was a couple sizes too small, a bath robe opened at the waist, and to Eddie’s horror a pair of unbuttoned boxers. He was taller than Eddie and had a hard-looking pot belly. He looked like he was always in the middle of growing a beard.

His voice was deep and he didn’t quite finish any of his words. “Who are you?”

“Detective Christie of the Rariville Police Department. I’m here to speak with Star.”

The man shifted his bulbous eyes to Eddie. “Who are you?”

“I’m Eddie McCloskey and I’m working with Christie.”

“You a cop?”

“No.”

“And who are you?” Christie said.

The man grabbed at his crotch and scratched his balls. Christie didn’t flinch even though the unbuttoned boxers left little to the imagination.

“Everybody calls me King.”

“I’m not interested in what everybody calls you,” Christie said. “I would like to know your name.”

“John Lange.” King finished scratching. Eddie hoped he’d button up. But no such luck.

Christie said, “We’d like to talk to Star.”

“She ain’t here.”

“Where is she?”

King shrugged. “I don’t know. She took off a few nights ago. That bitch is crazy. You can see she don’t take care of the fucking house.”

“You don’t either,” Eddie said.

King’s eyes bulged. He was a big fella, so people probably didn’t talk to him like that.

Christie stepped more in front of Eddie. “She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

“No. She just left. It ain’t the first time.”

Christie looked past King, into the dark foyer. “Is there anyone else in the house?”

“No.”

She nodded. “Would you come outside for a moment? We’d like to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“We want to talk to you.”

“You said you were here for Star, not me.”

“Things change,” Christie said.

“You gotta stay flexible,” Eddie said.

King’s eyes tracked from Christie to Eddie. “I’ll be right out.”

Before Christie could object, King slammed the door in her face. She glanced back at Eddie, who shrugged.

“Let’s give him a few,” Eddie said. “You never know.”

They left the porch and moved onto what used to be the lawn. Two old tricycles were in the yard, their tires half-buried in the mud.

Eddie and Christie didn’t have to wait long. The door opened about fifteen seconds later and Christie’s hand shot to her hip.

But the only thing in King’s hand was a can of beer. Eddie checked the time. 11:45AM on a Thursday. Well, it was five o’clock somewhere, as the saying went.

King thankfully cinched the bathrobe across his beer belly and had the good sense to tie it at the waist. He strutted down the steps. Despite his size, he was agile and light on his feet. He moved like a fighter in the ring.

“Don’t let his size fool you,” Eddie whispered.

Christie nodded.

King had big shoulders and thick, but not flabby arms. Eddie had seen guys like that in the joint. They didn’t care if they were cut. Didn’t think much of six-pack abs. They didn’t even mind being fat. All that mattered was strength. This guy had it. He also had reach.

King met them on the lawn. He killed half the can of beer in one sip and belched.

“What do you want?”

“We want to find Star,” Christie said.

He was about to say something, but then he did a double-take. “Hold on, now I recognize you.”

Christie angled herself so her gun was farther from King and she kept her hand on her hip. “Do you?”

“Yeah, you’re that goddamned chink who thought Star was helping Perks, aren’t you?”

Eddie wanted to punch the asshole for dropping the racial slur. But he doubted his blow would have much effect. King was
massive
. And already a little boozed. He was also surprised. Chief Knotts had said they’d never shared their suspicions of a second perpetrator with anyone, but King clearly knew.

Despite the insult, Christie’s expression didn’t change.

She said, “I’m Japanese. So chink isn’t technically correct. Where is Star?”

“Nip, then.” King smirked. “And I told you, I don’t know where Star is.”

“When did she leave?”

“Last night.”

The killings had started three days ago with Stahl. That put Star in the running to be Perks’s traveler.

Christie said, “Did she leave with anybody?”

King shook his head. “Just got in the car and drove off. I told you, she does that.”

“Where did she go last time?”

King said, “I don’t know. She’s a lying bitch.”

“Where did she tell you she went?”

“To see family. But if that was the case why did she leave at midnight?”

“What family?”

“She’s got family in Ohio. She has an aunt and cousins out there.”

“Do you have a number where we could reach her?”

King shook his head no.