Corpses Say the Darndest Things: A Nod Blake Mystery
Page 24
Believe me, I was staring. If Lisa noticed, she didn't show it. She merely continued. “I should have had more faith in you, Blake. You're the greatest detective in the world.”
“You… knew… about Gina?”
“Well, yeah,” she sputtered. “I hit all the restaurants, coffee houses, bars like you were doing. I took Love's photograph everywhere and paired it with Delp's. Outside of those who knew the reverend from television, nobody placed them together anywhere. I showed Gina's picture with them and yesterday I found the restaurant where she met Love, several times. I knew then that she brought him aboard and assumed that's when they planned the murders, together. That's what I wanted to tell you in the office. It's what I was trying to tell you on the way over here. I should have known that you already knew. And I went to the trouble of putting together a list of witnesses. I should have known you wouldn't need them.”
“Oh,” I said, grinning like the idiot I was, “we'll need them. We'll definitely need them.” I had no problem adding, “You did a good job.”
Lisa was beaming. “You don't still think Reverend Delp had anything to do with the murders?”
“I don't know,” I said, letting a sigh get away. “I tend to doubt it. If he did I can't prove it. He's not about to confess and Love is dead.”
“Any chance, if he did, of flipping Gina?”
“Not a ghost. She may or may not have an inside scoop on God, but she worships Delp and will quietly spend the rest of her life in jail.”
“For him?” Lisa asked. “Or because of him?”
I shrugged. “I don't think he was involved. But if he was, he gets away with murder.” I offered her a look of resignation and she shared it. What were we going to do? On the bright side, I wouldn't need to apologize to the esteemed minister. With his secretary and help-meet responsible for the killings, the both of us would best let by-gones be.
Delp had already moved on. Across town in the sprawling Temple of Majesty, unheard by us but no doubt heard by the heavens, applause gave way to one of Chicago's most revered theme songs, which gave way to the sturdy baritone of The Windy City's most famous televangelist. “Join me, brothers, sisters,” the Reverend Delp asked (politely commanded), turning to the 5th chapter of the book of Galatians. From it, he proclaimed that “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” His flock, minus several once high-ranking members, nodded its beaming collective head in agreement. But that was across town, on the other side of the tracks.
At the old brewery, on the near south side, Lisa wrapped her arm around me and supported my aching everything as we walked away from the flickering lights. “You know, Blake,” she said quietly, “it's been really sweet of you not mentioning even one time that I got you into this mess.”
I smiled, though it hurt to smile, leaned on her, and asked, “What good would it do to place blame?”
“All the same,” she said, pushing up her glasses, “thanks.”
“You're welcome.” I wanted to be nice to Lisa. The two of us were going to need to have a long talk about what had happened to me on this case; what was apparently still happening. I didn't know if suddenly I was a psychic, or some kind of bizarre fortune teller, or a budding psychopath. I didn't know why I'd repeatedly visited with the dead; why they'd spoken to me. All I knew was something strange and powerful inside my head, maybe deeper, had altered the way I perceived the world. If I ended up surviving it, undoubtedly, it would affect how I went about my business. That meant it would affect Lisa. As we walked away, I knew we needed to have that talk… soon.
“Placing blame would be a waste of time,” I assured her. “Of course, now the case is over…”
She looked me warily in the eye. “Well, you're not going to blame me now, are you?”
“Yeah.” I started walking again. “Oh, yeah.”
“Don't just walk away. Who do you think you are, Richard Burton?” She caught up and took her place, again, as my crutch. “What's the first rule of detecting? It isn't fair to place blame.”
“That's crap. There's no such thing as the first rule of detecting. And what's fair got to do with it?”
“I can't believe you're saying this.”
“Why? It's true. This was entirely your fault. I told you I was turning down this case. That's what I said, I am turning down this case. You might not have heard me, you were probably chewing. But I could not have been more clear.”
The dark closed in around us. But, have no fear, we were still there.
About the Author
Doug Lamoreux is a father of three, a grandfather, a writer, and actor. A former professional fire fighter, he is the author of four novels and a contributor to anthologies and non-fiction works including the Rondo Award nominated Horror 101, and its companion, Hidden Horror. He has been nominated for a Rondo, a Lord Ruthven Award, and is the first-ever recipient of The Horror Society's Igor Award for fiction. Lamoreux starred in the 2006 Peter O'Keefe film, Infidel, and appeared in the Mark Anthony Vadik horror films The Thirsting (aka Lilith) and Hag.
Other Books by the Author:
The Devil's Bed
Dracula's Demeter
The Melting Dead
Co-authored:
Apparition Lake (with Daniel D. Lamoreux)
Contributed:
Horror 101: The A-List of Horror Films and Monster Movies (Edited by Aaron Christensen)
The Best of the Horror Society 2013 (Edited by Carson Buckingham)
Hidden Horror: A Celebration of 101 Underrated and Overlooked Fright Flicks (Edited by Aaron Christensen)
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