Chapter 12
THE ANSWER’S IN THE STRIPES
Graham
I didn’t know why I stood at Katie’s door when I should have been at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey trying to erase that I cared about her, but this wasn’t actually about her.
I missed that little furball, and I knew sure as shit that he missed me too.
After whatever-the-hell that was back at the manor, I needed something familiar, something normal—at least as normal as having a therapy cat could be.
My knuckles rapped three times on the door. “Katie! It’s Graham.”
She opened the door and the scent of incense, pot, and something foul rolled out and straight into my nostrils.
“Good God, what is that?” I coughed, waving my hand in front of myself, attempting to disperse whatever she’d cooked up. “You making meth in there?”
She cocked her hip and rested her hand on it. “Like I’d tell you.” She smirked. “Just working a spell. Wanna be my guinea pig?” She barely even looked at me before she floated back into her kitchen.
“I’ll pass. The last time I took a strange concoction of yours I had an eighty-three-year-old man sizing up my junk.”
“Suit yourself.” She stirred the small cast-iron cauldron threatening to boil over.
“Maggie said Chester was here?”
“Yep. Chester!” Katie leaned toward the back room and held up a hand, amplifying her voice. “Your dad’s here!”
That sounded odd, but I’d been called worse.
It wasn’t even two seconds and a jingling purple and green bolt of furry lightning shot through the beaded curtain and into my arms.
“Hey, buddy! I missed you!” I snuggled him and was about to kiss his little forehead when I noticed the tiny green mohawk sticking up between his ears. I gave Katie a side-eye and kissed him anyway.
Chester’s motor instantly started, and he settled in making biscuits on my bicep.
“Katie, what the fuck is he wearing?” I lifted the purple cape with tiny bells on the hem from his back.
She gave me her classic sinister smile. “That’s his ceremonial robe. He and Tophie were practicing their sacrificial chants this morning, and he wanted to play in it after. I figured it’d be fine, as long as he didn’t get it dirty.”
I gave her a tight-lipped smile.
“Do you like his hair?” she asked.
“I think we should have discussed it first.” What the hell was I saying? He was a cat. “Yes. It’s fine.”
“Maggie was alright with it, and since the second half of the parental unit has not been present—” She lifted a brow at me. “An executive decision was made.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here now, and we have to get moving. Thanks for watching him,” I said and let myself out.
“Wait!” Katie called before I could take one step down the stairs. “I’ll get his things.”
She scampered through the beaded curtain and returned shortly carrying a backpack. “Is it still snowing? He really should wear a hat if it is.”
Chester gave me a look of can you believe this woman?
“No, buddy, I can’t.”
I tucked my furry little man into my jacket and under my arm and bolted down the steps. Just as I reached the driver’s door, Katie popped up.
“Gah—! Where the fuck did you come from?”
“Don’t be a deadbeat dad, Locke.” She shoved the black backpack bursting at the seams with cat clothes, toys, and snacks into my chest. “He can only have the salmon-flavored Fish Crunchies at night—the tuna and shrimp will give him nightmares if it’s after seven pm.”
Katie plunged her hand into a side pocket of the backpack and pulled out a stocking cap. “It’s freaking winter, Graham! Don’t let me catch him outside without his hat or I’ll tell Maggie just how irresponsible you are with him.”
Then she plucked Chester from my arm and plastered on the kisses.
“Come here, baby, give auntie kisses. Oh, and don’t forget your protection.
” She clipped a silver pentagram charm and a black crystal onto his collar.
“Remember, if you take him to the store, he needs to be in his baby carrier, not on a leash. There are a lot of terrible things on the floor and not enough wet wipes in the world.”
“Here you go, buddy. Maybe this can be your home for a little while,” I said, opening the front door to the cabin and setting Chester in the kitchen.
He paused, then took off exploring, sniffing like he was more hound than feline.
“I’m going to set up your litterbox in the bathroom, so don’t miss it!
” I hollered to the little guy, like he’d respond, then grabbed a beer from the fridge, before peeling off my leather jacket and my henley.
I fell onto the couch, threw my feet up on the log coffee table next to the case files, and settled in.
Chester jumped up, curling himself onto my bare stomach, and even though his daggers were gearing up for a round of painful biscuit-making, I didn’t flinch.
I ran my thumb between his ears, slow and steady. “You’re the only sane one left in this chaos. You’re spot on for your dislike of Hunter too. I can’t stand the way he touches her. There’s more to it than a dom/sub relationship. That slap was something else.”
Chester trilled as I ran my hand down his spine and twirled his tail around my finger.
I took a swig and examined one of the files. Then like a bolt of lightning, a crazed thought came to mind. He stages them, just like he stages Maggie. Hair to one side, tidy, perfection. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Maggie.
“Hey.”
Her voice was small. Cracked. Broken.
Something tightened in my chest. I should have stayed. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Hunter’s just really upset you did that.”
I gripped the phone tighter. “I bet he is. Where is he now?”
“He took off scouting again.”
“How often does he scout?”
“I don’t know, a couple times a week, maybe—why?”
“I have a theory, and you’re not going to like it.”
“Ok—ay?”
“What if Hunter’s scouting trips are just that—scouting. But instead of scouting for new camgirls, he’s scouting for his next kill?”
“You’re insane.”
Maybe. “But it makes sense. Come on, think about it. When is the last time he actually added a new girl to his roster? Does he have receipts on his whereabouts?”
“I don’t know, I was the last one, I think, besides Katie. And I think his car has a navigational tracker in it? Couldn’t you check that?”
“Maybe. I’m going to pull his record… look into him.”
“Graham, don’t.”
“Max, come on. If he is the killer, do you know how hard it is going to be to protect you?”
“Okay? Quick question. If he’s the killer, why hasn’t he... oh, you know… killed me?”
“Not sure.”
“And another thing, why is it that only you suspect him? What about the captain? The other officers?”
“So far there’s no physical evidence directly connecting him, no DNA, no digital footprint.
Nothing. Nettles wants to avoid a wrongful arrest, especially with someone that’s got the potential of societal influence.
Bad press has been known to help steer the precinct in a different direction before. ”
“Oh, my God. Seriously? I’m beginning to think they’re useless…”
“Been there a long time, honey. So nice of you to catch up.”
She let out a small laugh, more breath than anything.
“I’m texting Derek, now,” I said, my thumbs moving lightning speed over the keyboard. “I want him with you when I can’t be.”
Maggie needs protection at the manor.
Derek: Why?
Later.
I’ll bring Trix.
Trix?
You know. My girlfriend.
News to me. But, yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just get over there first thing in the morning.
“Derek will be over first thing in the morning.” I said.
“Yeah, like that’s gonna fly.” Maggie wasn’t amused.
“It’s going to have to,” I said, straightening. “I’m headed to the precinct to look him up.”
“Hunter’ll be gone ‘til 2pm. Graham, this is—”
“Text me the moment you hear his car in the driveway. I want to see something.”
“Okay, but you’re wasting your time. You’ve got your guy.”
I let out a breath. “Bishop didn’t do it. And it’s stupid that Nettles held him on a technicality.” I ended the call.