had to give Seth credit. He didn’t go down easily. It helped that he hadn’t been engaged in the same pre-murder activities that had distracted and debilitated Will.
Grabbing a pool stick, Seth jabbed at her chest. She ripped it from his hands and snapped it in half. The same stick-snapping-routine had been repeated hundreds of times by every big-screen karate-hero to date, reminding me of an action movie rerun.
What followed in the next two minutes wouldn’t survive any movie rating system. It would sicken even the most avid blood and gore connoisseur.
Looking for another opening, Seth spun to the side and launched a swift kick at his attacker’s midsection. This time he connected before she retaliated.
Bored with the foreplay, she lunged for the jugular.
When Seth’s head toppled from his shoulders, landing with an ominous thud, I gagged, but managed to stay attached to the vision.
Mercifully, other, less horrific scenes now played through the dog’s mind — police swarming through the house; people crying and consoling one another; a cleanup team scrubbing blood splatters off the big screen; more police searching for clues; Agent Green and Detective Davis walking through the home; reporters crowding the street; a hideous cloaked man …?
Talk about a coincidence. The same wrinkled creature we’d seen back at the Smart’s place was creeping unnoticed through Seth Johnson’s house. Could things get any stranger?
Good dog. Slow down. Show me this man, I instructed, eager to get a clearer look at the final intruder.
The rate slowed and I watched in disbelief as the mysterious supe roamed from room to room. He stopped in the master bedroom — a room untouched by the crime. There he entered the attached bathroom and knelt by a wicker laundry basket. Rotating it sideways, he slipped what I guessed was another coin, in between the weaved-slats. It fit snuggly inside its new hiding spot.
Thank you! I patted the dog.
“Kelsey, come here!” Seth’s father hollered.
I wondered how long we’d been standing there. When I was listening telepathically, I lost track of time. In most cases, it lasted just a few minutes, but it always seemed longer.
Ignoring the senior Johnson’s request, the dog flopped on Zane’s shoes, his tail wagging faster than a windshield wiper on high-speed.
“I’ll be. If the dog likes them that much, shouldn’t we at least see what they want?” Mrs. Johnson chimed in not a moment too soon. “The police haven’t helped, and that high and mighty FBI agent is just plain creepy.”
Smart lady. She’d used the same word to describe him as I had. I now determined that Agent Green was cruel and calculating. I suspected he’d prove me right.
Zane tapped my arm, his scowl evidence of his annoyance. Chloe, help me out here. Say something, please.
“Uh, really Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson, all we want to do is help,” I said, hoping I sounded sincere. What I wanted was to get my hands on that blasted coin.
“Edward, what do you think? They seem nice enough.”
“Ah, come on in. Anyone willing to help us find some damn justice around here is welcome. My son deserved better than what he got,” Edward said, lowering the gun.
Relieved, I followed Zane and Kelsey through the door. We sat a respectful distant from each other on the couch, and listened to the Johnsons tell stories about their son. They pointed out memories captured in a jumbo-sized photo album. Kelsey lounged across Zane’s lap. I was reluctant to interrupt their story telling, but could barely contain my anxious energy.
Noticing my apprehension, he nudged Kelsey off his lap and stood, feigning a stretch. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re on a tight schedule and I’d like to look around. I know it’s hard to believe, but sometimes the cops miss things. Plum Beach has never had a major murder investigation, let alone a serial case. Even with a few outside agents, there’s a chance we might find something new.”
“Now I remember!” Mrs. Johnson replied; her attention fixed on my face. “You’re the animal whisperer. I overheard Officer Tate talking about you to that FBI agent. He suggested they contact you to listen to Kelsey, but the agent declined. He wasn’t real impressed by the suggestion.”
Not sure how to respond, I glanced at Zane.
“I don’t think you’d call her an animal whisperer, but Chloe can catch mental impressions or pictures from animals. She’s already provided valuable information on this case. Officer Tate is very open to her talent”
Eager to counter their skepticism, I offered, “Your dog tried to save