“We’ve got to talk to Bud. Let’s go.” I grabbed my jacket from the chair and shoved my arms through the sleeves. He didn’t move from his spot. Definitely didn’t leap into action like I expected. “What?”
“Bud?” he asked.
Did he forget about Bud? The man we helped find his apartment after a drunken evening out at the local bars. “Yeah, Casey’s long-term resident. We’ve been to his place.”
Maybe he wasn’t good with names.
“Yeah,” Reed said, pursing his lips. “I remember Bud. Why do we need to interview him right this second?”
I grabbed the recorder from the table and checked the battery life. Good to go. I’d never had to charge the thing since the clues in this case were so light. But now we finally had the big thing that blew everything wide open and, for some reason, Reed wasn’t jumping with joy. His lack of excitement was really starting to be a real downer to my theory.
“Because I promised Delaney an exclusive to win her the Halloween spot.” For that I had a direction we could run at it. Boots on the ground.
“An interview with Bud is your exclusive?”
Okay, the questions got super annoying. Didn’t he see the overall picture? Selene was out there killing everyone, and we had to stop her. And also make sure Delaney won the Halloween spot on the podcast. Which she would definitely do if we solved the murders and took a serial killer off the streets.
Now that I’d figured out the killer, we could gather a ton of evidence against Selene and make the case for Delaney. And the police.
I paused by the door when Reed still hadn’t moved. He had his attention glued to the articles on the table. It felt weird to be investigating Selene. She’d been so nice.
But she’d also killed Casey so…
“What?” Reed asked, finally turning toward me and taking a step.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
Nice or not, we had to get her behind bars. Literal lives depended on it. Possibly ours. We circled the home, hurrying, but trying to make as little sound as possible.
Well, I did because I didn’t want Selene to see us and ask questions. Reed stopped to wave at the mailwoman as she dropped something in the neighbor’s box. I waited for him to catch up—he was the one with the gun, after all—and knocked on Bud’s door.
He answered it rather quickly, but from the way he narrowed his eyes at me, he didn’t remember us.
“Hey, Bud,” I said, stretching my smile out. “Do you remember us from the other night?”
His eyes widened, and he opened the door an inch more. “So, I didn’t dream it?”
“Nope. Do you mind if we come in? I’d like to ask you some questions.”
He closed the door a fraction. “About what? If you’re a cop, you have to tell me, or else it’s an improper search and seizure.”
That was… a weird thing to say. But since we weren’t cops or planning to search anything, I just held up a hand in defense and said, “No cops here. Although he was in the Navy for a while.”
“I can tell.” Bud gave me a quick nod. “Okay, you can come in.”
He opened the door enough to let Reed and me into his place. We followed him to the same living room we’d put him in to sleep off his buzz earlier in the week. His speech wasn’t slurred, and he had good posture as he sat on his couch. I preferred standing, so I took up a spot on the other side of his coffee table that was littered with empty beer cans.
Great. We were all in place. Now we just had to get the evidence. I hit record on the digital recorder.
Now, how did you question people?
I left Delaney’s questions for Bud on our table, and it seemed weird to go back for them now. My heart thumped along in my tight chest, urging me forward. But how?
Shit. I’d have to wing it and hope for the best.
“Did you like Casey?” I asked, picking up one of the beer cans from the table. It had a small amount of liquid still in it.
He nodded and watched me as I shook the can. “Yeah, he was a stand-up guy. It’s too bad what happened to him. He always seemed healthy.”
