Chapter 6 #2
“Oh, cool. But I bet that made being into ghosts and magic interesting.”
She laughs. “Just a bit. So…how did you lose your parents?”
“They were killed.”
“Like, murdered?”
I press my lips into a thin line, fighting back emotion. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God. How? Sorry. That falls into the I’m too nosey realm.”
“It’s okay,” I say, but don’t go into any further detail than that.
“Did you find them?”
I don’t answer that either.
“Sorry. It’s just…I’ve never met anyone who lost their parents so young before.”
“Neither have I. And yes. I did.”
Her face pales. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” I catch a dripping bead of condensation off my glass. “So…what do you do?”
“I’m a nurse. Right now I’m at a nursing home and in school again to get my bachelor’s so I can hopefully move to a hospital soon. I like my patients, but we’re so understaffed.”
“I don’t think I have the patience for that.”
She gives a wry smile. “Sometimes I don’t think I do either.” She talks about work, and then we chat about magic a bit. The awkwardness fades away, and as weird as it is to sit here talking to her, it’s nice.
When we get up to leave and she asks if I want to get together again, I say yes. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think I might finally have a friend.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” I say again, feeling a tug on my heart.
Lily Turner’s parents returned home from a business trip to find their daughter missing.
With her being nineteen and in college, they didn’t jump to conclusions right away, and it was only after a few hours of calling and texting that they grew to worry and contacted the police.
They just identified her body.
“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Lily? Did she have any enemies?” They’re standard questions, but the murder is anything but.
Her mother’s face is pale and she hasn’t stopped crying since she set foot into the station. She looks at me, mouth opening but unable to form any words.
“No,” her father answers instead. “Not that we know of. Everyone liked Lily.”
I nod, and give them another minute or two before going on with the rest of my questions. They’re both too emotional to give me anything to go on. I tell them to go home and get some rest, and I’ll follow up in the morning.
“Online,” Mrs. Turner croaks out as she rises unsteadily to her feet. “Lily was bullied online.” Her jaw quivers and she starts crying again, calling out for her baby.
I shift my gaze to Mr. Turner. “Do you know anything more about this?”
He shakes his head. “Lily didn’t seem bothered by it. It didn’t seem serious. Just online trolls.”
“Anything can help. The more I know, the faster I can catch the asshole who did this to your daughter.”
He swallows hard and nods. “She got cyberbullied on Facebook in a group she ran with friends.”
“What was the group about?”
“Spirituality and Wicca.”
“Lily was Wiccan?”
“In some ways.”
I pull out my notebook. “What is the group called?”
Mr. Turner pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t remember. She said these people joined the group, harassed everyone and told them they were going to hell.
She got a few private messages but blocked the guy messaging her.
She told me she felt sorry for him to be filled with such hatred.
” His eyes fill with tears. “That’s the kind of person she was.
Saw the best in everyone. Felt for everyone. ”
“Do you have access to her Facebook account? Or any other social media for that matter?”
“Her computer stores all her passwords,” her mother says between sobs. “It’s in her room.”
“Would it be all right if I stopped by? I’ll take a look around for anything out of the ordinary and pick up the computer.”
“Do whatever you have to do.” Her father takes my hand, eyes set with heartache and rage. “Find the asshole. And give me five minutes alone with him before turning him in.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
The Turners stay at the station, making funeral arrangements. I feel bad for them, I really do, but I can’t put any more emotion into this. I need to stay rational so I can find the killer.
And I will.
With the key to the Turners’ house in my pocket, I get into my car and drive to their house. They don’t live all that far from the church, which makes me wonder if the killer is nearby as well. I survey the house, looking for any sort of signs of forced entry before going inside.
Lily’s mother spoke to her the night before she was found murdered. She was on her way home from work, and judging from the discarded uniform on the floor of her bathroom upstairs, it looks like she made it home.
Lily’s room is neat and clean like the rest of the house, with crystals and dreamcatchers decorating the window. I sift through her bookshelf, not finding anything of interest, and open her computer.
It’s password protected, of course. If her parents don’t know the password, I can get IT to get me in eventually. Biting my lip, I take another look around the room and do my best to guess the password. After enough failed attempts to get me locked out, I close the laptop and head downstairs.
A gray tabby cat meows at me from the foyer, hunched down and eyeing me suspiciously.
“Hey, kitty,” I say, and then notice the collar. Crouching down, I hold out my hand and pray this cat isn’t an asshole. Most are. Apprehensively, he comes over, and I snatch him up, narrowly avoiding a thrashing from his back claws.
“Shadow,” I read his name out loud, and then let him go.
I open the computer again and type in shadow.
It doesn’t work. I try a few variations, getting in with the password shadow123.
Not the best, but also not the worst either.
People use their pets’ names for passwords a lot.
It’s a bit predictable, but that’s working out in my favor.
Letting out a breath of relief and feeling like I hit a small victory, I close the computer again and head out, making sure to lock the door behind me, and pocket the key I got from Lily’s parents.
I go door to door next, asking the neighbors if they’d seen anything weird the night Lily got home from work.
No one had.
I head back to the station, and spend another hour looking through Lily’s social media accounts. She has a decent amount of people on her block list, and it seems her father was right about her not engaging in any sort of negativity.
There are several new messages from a guy named Roy Tenant. The last was sent two days before she was murdered, calling her an abomination and saying she would rot in hell for doing the devil’s work.
I print out the messages and pass on the link to his profile to our cyber unit to see if they can locate him so I can bring him in for questioning.
It’s getting late, so I close the computer to bring it home with me so I can continue my search through the night.
I’m making dinner tonight instead of buying takeout, and need to stop at the grocery store.
By the time I finally pull into the driveway, the sun is almost setting. I put my Charger in park and get out, going around to the passenger side to get out my grocery bags, purse, and everything I brought home from work. I’d rather kill my arms by carrying everything at once than make two trips.
The sun dips lower in the sky, and I can feel the guys start to awaken. I have to set one bag down on the porch to unlock the door. Gravel crunches behind me, and at first, I think it’s bits of stone falling from Thomas and Gilbert, who are frozen as statues right behind me.
Then I realize the crunching of gravel is coming from the driveway behind me. I whirl around and see a car headed right toward me.