AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And returned when no one could see you to finish him off.”
“Conjecture.”
“It’s circumstantial enough. Especially given your connection to the murdering Mahoney.”
Exasperation had me huffing, “Oh, for fuck’s sake. This has nothing to do with Mahoney. He’s gone. Dead or vanished. Doesn’t really matter since I have nothing to do with him.”
“You took over his property, which is a link.”
“If you think that’s evidence, you need to go back to detective school. People buy properties involved in crime all the time, doesn’t make them criminals.”
“You also rebuilt his motorcycle, and given the resurgence of Triclaw Murders, I can almost wager a member of the task force has suggested you’re a groupie reenacting his crimes.”
“A groupie for a serial killer?” Now was not the time to admit my horny dreams about Mahoney.
“It’s actually quite common.”
“I didn’t even know he existed when I bought this place!”
“Is that the truth, or are you sticking to a story to appear innocent?”
“Iaminnocent!” I shouted. Even if I weren’t, how dare he assume I had anything to do with anyone’s murder?
“Let’s say you are innocent—”
“Because I am,” I muttered darkly.
“—that means someone’s out there killing people.”
“Don’t they have any leads?”
“Nope, because I’ve kept them away from the only one.” He stared at me as he said it.
The theatrics had me clapping. I’ll admit to being impressed that his imagination could be as vivid as mine. “Bravo. That’s quite the fabrication. I’m beginning to think you just come around to throw a scare into me. It’s not going to work. I am not admitting to anything because there’s nothing to admit. Like there is nothing to link me to those dead cops.”
“Mahoney.” He had one simple, repetitive reply.
I rolled my eyes at his insistence. “Mahoney’s gone.”
“The man, yes. But what of his spirit?” He dropped it out there all casual-like.
“Oh, hell no. Not this again. A ghost can’t be a murderer.” He was insane for even suggesting it.
“It’s not crazy because it’s true. I know you’ve seen him.” A sharp statement. “Don’t deny it.”
“And if I said yes?” Could I finally admit that maybe, justmaybe, the Mahoney I knew was more than a figment of my mind? What if itwashis spirit?
“If he’s returned, then you are in grave danger.” I could see that he believed it.
I, however, wasn’t playing into his sick fantasy. “I’m fucking with you, Brayden. I haven’t seen a ghost. I can’t because they’re not real.” Much as I wanted to use that excuse for my Mahoney hallucinations, I retained enough wits to recognize true versus false.
“Ghosts, spirits, remnants. They exist.”
“So, you’ve met some?”
“No, but the evidence is there for their existence if you look.”
“And so what if they do?”
