Another glance at Andi, who shrugged almost imperceptibly. “With all due respect, Chief, you’ll have to spell it out, because my partner and I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
She stared at them with pure hatred in her eyes. “Not only have you talked to my son behind my back—oh yes, I know about your calls—you also told the press he was the one who found the corpses! I will have your badges for that, believe me. And nothing, not even a flawless solving statistic, is going to save you this time.”
“You think we did what?” George was so angry, he heard his voice rising several notches. If he’d needed any more proof that Norris was getting unhinged, this was it. The sheer audacity to doubt their integrity in such a way. And given how worked up she was, she clearly believed her own fabrications. This woman was a danger to herself and the precinct, and George was ready to go into a showdown here and now, and to hell with Gelman and all his well-thought plans. George had had enough. He made a step toward the desk, an intimidation tactic he had seen his mother use countless times, never getting close enough to make it look like assault but hinting at what you could and would do. Norris actually flinched and angled back from the desk, changing direction as soon as she realized what she had just done. Too late. George had detected weakness. He was ready to pounce.
This time it was Andi who prevented him from doing something stupid he would likely regret later on by touching his wrist.
“It’s because she wants to believe it, don’t you, Chief? Because you want to get rid of us so badly, you’re grabbing at straws. Unless you have proof, Chief Norris, undeniable proof pointing straight at my partner and me, I suggest you keep your accusations to yourself. It looks bad if the chief doesn’t trust her two best detectives, doesn’t it? Especially since they were the ones to find her missing son in the first place. Just imagine the story the press would make out ofthat.”
Both George and Norris stared at Andi with wide eyes. The chief’s cheeks were pumping like she was preparing to let loose, but not a sound came out of her mouth. George knew how she felt. Andi usually used his grumpiness as his shield, making everybody believe he was nothing but an introverted detective with a serious lack of social skills. Every now and then, though, he would say things like what he did just now, reminding everybody that there was a lot more to him than just a prickly outside. A mind like a steel trap, for one. He had pointed out her motive, had called her out on her lack of proof, had reminded her of her place, and threatened her none too subtly. All in an atmosphere that had left volatile behind a long time ago. Andi’s calm interjection helped George to get his own temper back under control.
“We’re leaving. Unless there’s anything relevant for the case, I’d suggest it’s better we don’t see each other for a while.” He followed Andi out of the office, leaving a stunned and still fuming chief behind. Getting away from her presence was like stepping into fresh air, the relief instantaneous.
“We need to solve this case so we can finally get rid of her,” Andi whispered, but George understood him just fine.
“My thoughts exactly. Thank you for keeping your cool. This could have gotten ugly quickly.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’d have loved to see you fight it out with her, but we have more pressing concerns, like a killer on the loose and no suspects or too many suspects, depending on how you view recent developments.”
They reached their desks, where George woke his PC. He saw the email notification the same moment Andi’s cell beeped. They both stared at their respective screens, taking in the information Shireen had dug up for them.
With the new parameters, she had found two men working at House Cusabo who had lived in the area since before the first murder had taken place. Marcus Kespers, fifty-eight, worked as a cook in the kitchen and had been employed at a hospital in the same position before he came to House Cusabo in 2014. Zane Werner, thirty-three, who was a night guard at House Cusabo, had worked at a retirement home and had changed employers in 2019. Shireen had attached pictures she had found, showing they both fit the physical requirements for the killer. Only Marcus Kespers was a member of the local beekeeper club, but Zane Werner could still be helping with them at House Cusabo, something George and Andi would find out once they got there. Perhaps it was as Andi had said and the killer only used the beekeeper suit for pragmatic reasons, which would make Werner a suspect even if he didn’t have anything to do with the bees, as long as he had access to the equipment. Shireen had also found out that Sprenger had moved to Charleston in November 2013, after TJ Ross and Celia Murdoch had been killed, which made him the least likely of the three candidates, though cars were a thing and Spartanburg wasn’t too far from Charleston to make it completely implausible for him to have killed there before he moved.
George looked at Andi, who was already putting on his jacket. Geena came from the direction of the bathrooms, and her eyes lit up when she saw they were getting ready to move. “Shireen found something?”
Andi nodded.
“I’m amazed how quick she is. I’d love to steal her when I leave.” She winked.
“Don’t you dare. Shireen is ours,” George grumbled.
“I assume you’re going to follow that lead?”
“Yeah. Do you want to come?” It was the polite thing to ask, and Geena hadn’t been as much of a hindrance as George had feared at the beginning, so he was feeling generous. His temporary colleague shook her head.
“I’d love to, but I’ve got a meeting with my boss in fifteen minutes. She’s on her way to Norfolk and has decided to spare me a few minutes of her time to harass me.” Geena’s tone made clear the harassment wasn’t as bad as the words suggested.
“Lucky you. Have fun.” George followed Andi toward the exit.
They were on the road to House Cusabo, both of them deep in thought, when Andi’s cell started ringing. He dug it out from the left front pocket of his jeans, making a distressed sound when he checked the caller ID. George watched from the corner of his eye as Andi swiped across the screen.
“Tyler, buddy, how are you?”
George felt his brows raise to his hairline. Just what they needed, more forbidden contact with the chief’s son. Theoretically, Andi should end the call immediately, after telling Tyler to never contact him again. Practically, neither of them had the heart to cut off the lonely boy like that. When Tyler started speaking, George was glad Andi had answered. The boy’s voice was hushed, nervous, close to being frightened.
“Andi? The ghosts—they are acting strange. I don’t like it.”
“What are they doing, Tyler?” Andi sounded so calm when George could see from the tension in his shoulders he was anything but.
“They’re all here, swarming like ants before a storm. I’ve seen it on TV. All nervous. And they’re older. Some of them look… disgusting.”
“Are you sure it’s the same ghosts? Your friends?” George gave his best to sound as reassuring as possible. He didn’t like the disgusting comment in the least.
“Yes, I can still recognize them. It’s… I don’t know the word. They vibrate the same way?”
“Don’t bother with semantics, Tyler. You say they are the same ghosts, we believe you.” Andi, in his no-nonsense way. “Are they just acting weird, or are they trying to communicate? What about Izzy? She seems to be the most stable.”
“They’re changing, and they don’t make any sense. They say the end is coming, that it’s all culminating. Some of them are flickering, bones andpieces. Izzy is there, but she’s not talking, just flitting around. I think she’s looking for something. Andi, I’m afraid.”
