Page 43 of Ancient Obsession

“I’ve had a few go-rounds with the higher ups here at the station, and have managed to get you sprung. But you’ll need to keep Detective Carter updated on any changes to your location.”

“All I want to do is go home.” Oliver stood.

“Then by all means, let’s go.”

Dieter turned sideways and waved for Oliver to go ahead. When he stepped into the hall, Oliver saw Detective Carter standing with the woman who had asked to talk with him. Both stared at him.

“I didn’t do any of this,” Oliver said.

Carter grunted. “We’ll see.”

“Come along, Oliver. The less you say the better.”

With a hand on his lower back, Dieter steered him out of the back hallway, through the detective bullpen, and into the lobby. Dave sat in a plastic chair, head in his hands. He leapt to his feet when he saw Oliver, rushing forward to pull him into a tight hug.

“You okay?” Dave asked.

“I’ve had better days.”

Dave gave him a once over. “You look worn out. What did they do to you?”

“Just had me repeat the same thing over and over.” Oliver blinked back sudden tears. “And showed me pictures of the crime scenes.”

“What? Jesus Christ.” Dave pulled him in close again, hands steady and warm against his back. “That fucker.”

“It was terrible. Their arms and legs were so twisted. Who could do something like that?”

“Let’s get you back home.” Dave gave him a squeeze before releasing him.

Dieter guided Oliver to the desk where he signed for his messenger bag and phone. Once he’d received his belongings, Dave led the way outside. The sun was low and shadows long. He’d been in the station the entire day. Oliver breathed in the fresh air with relief, then stopped and stared.

A veritable boat of a car took up two spaces in the parking lot. It was a tan mid-70s Cadillac Sedan de Ville with a white vinyl roof. The Cadillac had once belonged to the Widow Monroe, longtime resident of Parson’s Hollow and a notoriously bad driver. When she’d died, they’d discovered she’d left Cody her behemoth of a gas guzzler.

“Why in the name of God are you driving that beast?” Oliver said.

“Your grandmother’s car is in the shop. Cody was kind enough to give me permission.” Dieter grinned. “With a number of precautions.”

“He didn’t come with you, did he?” Oliver asked.

“No,” Dave replied. “I wouldn’t let him. I knew you’d be low on tolerance.”

“I love you so much.”

“I know. Come on, Dieter will drive us to your car.”

They all fit across the wide front bench seat, Oliver by the window. He directed Dieter to his usual lot. Panic slowly built in Oliver’s chest as Dieter circled the lot with no luck. Had his car been impounded? Then he remembered he’d parked on the other side of campus. Dieter was patient and kind as Oliver gave him the new directions. In a few minutes, they’d found his car.

Dave and Oliver got out and, after many thanks, stood side by side and watched the big car pull out of the lot and head off down the street.

“He’s going to have to fill up that tank before he gets back to Parson’s Hollow,” Oliver said.

Dave laughed and kissed the top of his head. “Let’s get you home.”

They turned toward the car, but Oliver stopped. A piece of paper had been stuck beneath the driver’s side wiper, and it fluttered in the early evening breeze.

“Dammit, did I get a ticket? Fucking cops.” He snatched the paper up and read it. His exhaustion seemed to step aside as his curiosity and reporter’s instincts kicked in, giving him a tiny surge of energy.

“What is it?” Dave asked over the roof of the car.