25

I must say, doing a road trip with both Grant and Alan was much more fun than I’d anticipated. For one thing, Grant had some wild stories to tell, and he had a flair for telling them, so it helped the miles pass. For another, Alan had caught us up this morning on how much he’d learned from this case and a few others.

It was quite the update.

Jon was driving, which let me twist in my seat so I could more easily speak to the two in the back.

“What do you mean, you’re going to get FBI funding for this book?” Out of all the things my cousin could’ve said next, I hadn’t expected that.

Alan shrugged, but I could tell from that smug smile he was pleased with himself. “Gonzalez made good on his promise. I showed him a sample chapter—the one I wrote on Grant—and he went from interested to eager to have it. He somehow wrangled an appointment with the head of the FBI, and they’re reviewing my rough draft right now.”

“Holy shit, that’s awesome!”

Grant snorted dryly. “Honey, tell him how big it is.”

With all the psychic types, I expected large, but Grant’s expression hinted at a freakin’ tome. “How big?”

“It’s at two hundred thousand words,” Alan admitted. “Authors and publishers go by word count over page count, but in layman’s terms, about a thousand pages?”

I let out a low whistle. “Daaaaaayum.”

“Rather hard to not let it balloon to that size. Each psychic type has a description of what they can do, their known limitations, an interview from a psychic of that specialty, plus a well-known case that showcases the ability. It’s about thirty pages per type, thereabouts.”

Okay, yeah. I could see how the thing went crazy out of control. “Are you going to have to break it up?”

“Size is partially why the FBI is now reviewing it. Ebook wise? No, no need to do that. But for print? No one wants to lug around a thousand-page brick. Although lugging around two books half the size isn’t any better, so…honestly, I don’t know what they’re going to decide. However! Good news for me is, they’ve given me a royalty advance for it already. It’s a very tidy sum. And I didn’t have to sign away all rights to it, I can still publish it for public consumption. The FBI just gets it first.”

“And he has to update it once a year,” Grant tacked on.

“I do.” Alan shrugged, clearly not bothered by this. “I’m not egotistical enough to think I’ve already found every possible psychic type. I mean, the Materializers are something I had no clue about, so I already have to update the draft. I’m not concerned about this. Well, my poor formatters are going to be tearing their hair out trying to keep page count down, but it is what it is.”

How did I get such a smart cousin? You had to be damn good at your job if the FBI came knocking and then gave you money for your project. Just, damn. Totally impressed right now.

My phone rang and I answered it. “Hey, Sho.”

“ Hey, got a hit for you .”

I loved it when he said stuff like that. Sho’s intel was never wrong. “Hit me.”

“ Got a birthday party video, and facial recognition says this is the guy Marc’s been trying to find. I’ve already given him the video, and the poster’s contact info. He’s working on locking the party down. It was only posted an hour ago, so I don’t know if the party’s still going on, but maybe something there will give Grant a boost. I wanted to give you guys a heads-up. Should have a location really soon. You’re in the general area already, as this took place just outside of Atlanta. ”

We were maybe a half hour north of Atlanta already so that was great news to hear. “Sho, you’re awesome.”

“ I do try. I’ll keep on this, but right now, this is my best lead for you .”

“And we appreciate it.”

My phone rang again, but this time it was Gonzalez.

“Sho, got to hang up.”

“ Sure, bye. ”

I ended the call and answered Gonzalez. “Hey. Sho just said he found a location?”

“ Good, you’re almost caught up. Just spoke to the woman who posted the video, she’s an aunt of the birthday kid. Said the clown they hired left twenty minutes ago but the party’s still going on. We’ve asked her to move it inside, which they’re doing now. I’m shooting you an address. Meet us there. ”

“That we can do.”

“ Also, are you sure we can’t have Sho ?”

“Pretty sure, man. Lots of people are very attached to Sho.”

“ Dammit. Fine. Meet you there .”

Sho had job security, if nothing else. The FBI would love to get their hooks into him.

The address popped up on my screen and I immediately opened Maps and got navigation started. When Sho said we were in the general area, he hadn’t been kidding. Location was in Smyrna, which was north and a tad west of Atlanta. Sweet, that meant we were about twenty minutes away. Sho, bless your timing. Otherwise, we would have needed to backtrack.

“Babe, not this exit, but it’s the next one you’ll need to take.”

Jon nodded and flicked the blinker on. “Got it. Ugh, finally, a lead on this guy. I thought he was playing ghost or something.”

Certainly felt that way.

Jon drove to the address like he knew precisely where to go, and we almost beat Gonzalez and Marc there. They pulled in about twenty seconds before we did, so we parked right behind them. It was kind of a Keystone Cops moment as we all piled out of the car and toward the house.

A tall Black woman with a lot to love met us at the door, looking distraught. “Um, Agents?”

“That’s us,” Marc answered, pulling out his badge to show. “Marc Gonzalez.”

“I’m Serena. Lord, y’all are scaring me. How bad is this guy?”

“Well, he’s not good,” Marc admitted frankly. “Which is why we’re trying to lay hands on him as quick as we can. We want to disturb the kids as little as possible. You said the party was in the backyard? Any way we can get there without going through the house?”

Please and thank you. That would make it easier for me to get Jon to the right place.

“Oh sure, sure. There’s a side gate. I’ll show you.” Serena stepped out, shutting the door behind her, and quickly went for the left side of the house.

We all followed her around through a side gate and into the rather spacious backyard. I saw plenty of indications a party had been back here, as there was a full table with desserts, punch, etcetera. A simple wooden stage had been set up for the show, and there was a collection of toys and such abandoned on the grass nearby.

Jon waved them on and focused on Serena, so I stood with him as well.

“Miss Serena, I’m Jonathan Bane, and I’m working with the FBI on this case. Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh, for sure.” She turned her attention to him, looking attentive.

“Thank you. I’m told Chad was hired to do a birthday show?”

“Something of a magic show, although he did wear a clown suit. Really, his price was the most reasonable and he was easy to hire for this slot, so when I first came across him I was relieved. I’d been trying to find a stage magician for almost two weeks when I came across his listing. My nephew loves stage magic, you see.”

“Can I see the listing?”

“I, um, don’t know if I can find it again? I got it off Craigslist.”

Oh. Shit. Well, the listing was probably long gone. “Don’t mind that, ma’am. How did he seem to you?”

There was a shout of victory from Marc, and he just about did a happy dance right then and there.

I turned to look at him, caught his eye, and asked, “Materialized?”

“Yuuuuup.”

“What’s that?” Serena asked, tone confused.

Jon did and didn’t answer her question. “This particular clown you hired is a unique breed of psychic. It’s what Marc was checking for. Tell me about the toys that are littering the stage.”

“Oh, well, that was part of the fee. He said for another hundred dollars, whatever toys he used as props for his show were something the kids could keep. I thought the toys were a great idea because, again, my nephew loves stage magic. It’d be something a ‘real’ magician used that he could play with. So I said yes.”

It was an easy hundred bucks for the Materializer, considering he didn’t have to purchase anything himself.

Serena seemed worried about this line of questioning because her agitation rose sharply. “Is that bad?”

“No, ma’am,” I assured her. “It might very well be our saving grace. You see that man with the dark curly hair taking a nap on the stage?”

“Oh, uh…yes, why is he doing that?”

“That’s Grant Walker.”

Her eyes crossed and she spluttered for a few seconds before she managed to get her jaw back in its socket. “Grant Walker’s in my backyard?!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Holy shit. And I just made the connection—Jonathan Bane. I see your name all the time in the papers!”

Jon grinned. “I bet.”

“Fucking shit on a cracker.” She put a hand to her forehead, rocking a little. “Phew. Lord Almighty, I’mma need a pint of ice cream after this. This man must be very, very bad if he’s got you two chasing after him.”

“He’s certainly not good, ma’am. We suspect he’s kidnapped a woman and either murdered her or is holding her hostage.” Jon put a hand on her shoulder and said kindly, “No more hiring off Craigslist.”

She nodded vigorously. “No siree, I have learned my lesson.”

“Good.”

Grant popped up all of a sudden, huffing and puffing, and I could tell in a glance this was one frustrated man. In fact, I’d seen that reaction before. Was this our guy?

Without fanfare, Grant levered himself up with Alan’s help and announced, “Good news is, this is our guy. Bad news is, I can’t, for the life of me, get a lock on him.”

Well. That was problematic. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again?”

Grant blew out a breath like he’d been cursed with this problem even though he hadn’t asked for it, and how dare someone thwart him.

“Yeah. I guess trying again is the answer. How many licks it takes to get to the center of the lollipop, that’s my question.”

“From the looks of it,” Marc muttered, also looking very cross, “we’re about to find out.”

Jon abruptly asked Serena, “What did the ad say? Do you remember that at all?”

“I—oh, no, I don’t—” Then she stopped dead, eyes flaring wide. “I’m a moron. I screenshotted the ad and sent it to my sister! It’s still in our chat history.”

I whipped out my phone, even as Jon hastily stepped several feet backward. “Ma’am, send that to me. In fact, save my number. You can always text me if you hear from him again or if you think of something else.”

“Sure.”

We swapped phone numbers, she forwarded the screenshot to me, and I sent it to Sho.

And with any luck, the guy didn’t put a burner number on the ad, and we’d be able to call him for a party request and lure him out. I wasn’t holding my breath, mind you, because this guy was paranoid as hell. Still. With this many things connecting to him, hopefully we’d get a break soon.

Hopefully.