Page 62 of Unhinged Cain

“Buchanan. You go ahead and fire away. I’ve been livin’ here my whole life and my parents and grandparents before me. If there is anything I can do to help you out, I’m happy to answer.”

Margaret and Hanson whipped out little notebooks in tandem and then pulled pens from inside their suit jackets.

Now that was creepy.

“Have you seen anything unusual around the area?” Margaret began.

I gave a small fake laugh, sauntered over to the bar fridge, and pulled out a beer. “I’d offer you one, but you don’t seem like the type to drink on the job.” Cracking the lid, I leaned against the workbench. “I’ve got coffee if you like?”

“No, we have coffees in the car,” she said.

“Alright, well, as far as your question goes, you’ll need to be more specific than unusual.”

“Unfortunately, it’s an ongoing investigation, and I can’t say anything more. Have you seen any unusual vehicles or people in the area? Maybe you saw something that didn’t register as strange until later?”

I tapped my chin and looked up as if I were thinking and checking the memory banks of my brain. “Nope, I’m sorry. I see strange cars all the time. It’s kind of what I do.” I pointed to the Cadillac. “Half the time, I think the entire world has gone mad, so I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask about unusual behavior.”

The beauty of a good lie was that it was the truth, just paired down to the bare bones, but you kept the fleshy meat part to yourself.

“Have you seen the news lately?” Hanson said.

“I catch it when I can. Why?”

“Have you seen the reports about the Chameleon Killer,” Hanson asked, and Margaret looked like she was going to leap on him and throttle the man.

“You mean the one about the bodies left all carved up?” I forced myself to shiver and chugged the rest of the beer. “Like I said, the news can be depressing, and the world has gone mad.”

“So you don’t know anyone that lives in the area you’d suspect?”

“Of being a killer? Well, hell, I sure hope not. I mean, that would freak me out if I thought I was living beside a murderer. You’d have gotten a call from me a long time ago,” I said, tossed the bottle into the recycling bin under the cupboard, and leaned against the counter again. Both sets of eyes followed my movement as if hoping I’d simply toss it out in the garbage where they could take it for testing.

“That’s an interesting tattoo you have on your neck,” Margaret said, pointing with her pen.

I turned to show off the clown for them.

“Huge Joker fan. Listen, did you have anything else you wanted to talk about? I should really finish up this car before….” The gate buzzer sounded, and I shrugged. “Too late. She’s here.” Wandering over to the panel, I pressed the button to speak. “Is that you, Betty,” I asked cheerfully.

“You know it is. I’m never late.” The older female’s voice squawked through the speaker. I flipped the open switch and walked over to Lawson and Hanson.

“I’m sorry, but I better go, or she’s never going to speak to me again if her car isn’t finished, but feel free to come by anytime with more questions. I’m always happy to help.”

Margaret held out a business card. “Give us a call if you think of anything that may help.”

“Will do.”

“Oh, by the way, are you married?”

“That’s a pretty forward question. Are you asking me out?” I lifted the corner of my mouth in what I hoped came off as a flirty grin. Margaret’s face flushed, and considering I knew what her extracurriculars entailed, I wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment that made her cheeks red or something else. “No, I’m not so lucky, but there’s a girl I’m seeing, and she’s like a ray of sunshine. So keep your fingers crossed that things work out for me.”

Margaret nodded as the two of them got back into their car and drove past Betty, who was getting a ride from her friend, that was as blind as a bat. I wasn’t sure how the woman got anywhere alive.

Dropping the hood of Betty’s car, I gave the front a good wipe-off to remove any potential prints as she shuffled up to the open bay door.

“That lot givin’ you trouble? They were busy snoopin’ around my home earlier. Feds—they always think they can do what they want.”

“Agreed, but they’re just tryin’ to do their job. I don’t mind.” I held out the keys to the older woman and waved to her friend, who was performing a fifty-point turn to position the car to exit the property.

“You’re too nice, I swung at the tall one with my broom and told them to bugger off, or I was havin’ them arrested for tresspassin’ without cause.”