“Thank you for the answers and I will be in touch,” Trent told Whitney. “Bo, nice to meet you. Hope to see you around.”
“Likewise,” Bo said.
As Trent walked away, Whitney noticed he looked great from the back too. She turned her attention to Bo.
He said, “Likewise. Who the hell says likewise? Nobody has said that shit since Marilyn Monroe.”
“This is too funny, we are so much alike. I was fumbling with Trent too. And I totally called it in my head that you were going to hit on him. You’re so predictable.”
“Is it really that hard to predict that I was going to hit on the hottest guy to walk into this Podunk town since the dawn of time? How the hell did you score a date with him?” Bo asked.
“He asked me and I said yes. The details aren’t much more exciting than that I’m afraid.”
“Fuck yeah, girl. Sink your nails into his back and never let go, if you know what I am saying. Unless he’s crazy or married, of course,” Bo warned.
“No, he’s single. At least he says he’s single. No, he’s single.”
“I’m sure he is. So what happened, someone just like rolled in and shot her?” Bo wanted to know.
“I guess. I never even heard another person enter the library. I was putting away books in the mystery section and heard the first shot. The cops said that it went right through her head and they found the second bullet over near the periodicals. I was lying on the ground when I saw someone wearing fancy men’s shoes run by.”
“That’s crazy. So you were the only one here?” Bo asked.
“Yeah, Tara went home early and I don’t know what Susan was doing. She was here for a few hours.”
“Shit, you’re lucky they don’t think you did it,” Bo said.
“Wait, what? You don’t really think that’s possible. He did say that I would be on the list for twenty-four hours. That’s not true, right?”
“Obviously not, I love and know you. I was just joking because you were the only one here and there’s a mystery killer it seems. What are you doing after all this? If you want to hang out with someone, you got me,” Bo offered.
“Yeah, you go back to my place and I will be by when the police are all done here.”
Whitney waited about an hour, and asked a police officer, “When are you guys going to be done?”
The cop laughed, “We aren’t going to be done for another twelve hours at least. This is a major crime scene. Not to mention the parking lot. These things take time.”
Whitney figured she could leave and the cops would still be there when she came back in the morning. She went to put the remaining books away from the cart. She put every book back except for one.
As she neared the paranormal shelf, a white light appeared and with each step closer, the glow gradually intensified. The shelf started shaking and separated from the wall. The tantalizing light drew Whitney in. Dropping the book, Whitney instinctually squeezed herself into the opening and walked straight ahead.
The bookshelf closed back against the wall and Whitney stood in complete darkness. She spun around the tiny room, searching for answers. A dim light came over the room and a male ghost, who appeared to be her age, floated up in front of her. He looked like a grown-up version of the boy who had led her to the magical world when she was twelve.
“Recognize me?” the man asked.
“I think so. Are you the boy from…?”
“I am. Your patience is exemplary. We realize how long you’ve had to wait to receive your just due. Most people, if not all, would have run away from this town if they took the abuse that you did over the years. You are a strong woman, Whitney Powers, and your time has come. Are you ready for your adventure to begin?” he asked.
“I’ve been ready since I was twelve. I’m not going to lie, there was doubt over the years and turning down academic scholarships to four of the best colleges in the country to stay around here wasn’t easy. So what is this grand plan?” she asked.
“We are going to help you solve the murder of Susan Foley. We will give you clues that you are going to put together to bring her murderer to justice. This will be the adventure you’ve always been waiting for. I must warn you, there will be grave danger involved as this case is going to become bigger than you can imagine. Your life will be put in direct danger several times and we understand if you wish to back out. We understand wanting to live a safe life. The choice is yours,” the ghost offered.
“What’s the first clue?” she asked without hesitation.
He smiled and said, “Dan Elders. D, a, n, E, l, d, e, r, s. Dan Elders.”
“What about him?”
“Exactly. That is for you to find out. You must get back now,” he warned.
3
The bookshelf opened again and Whitney slipped back out. The clock on the wall coincided with the length of the short conversation as Whitney went back toward the front of the library.
One of the cops yelled at her, “Hey, you can’t be over there. In fact you can’t be anywhere in here. This whole place is off limits until we’re done. The only place you should be is over where they’re doing interviews up near the entrance.”
The authorities were still combing the murder scene and she told one of the men to call her when they were done. Whitney calmly walked around all the officers and detectives and out the front door.
She was so excited about investigating the name that she raced home in her small car. She shoved her key into the door handle and opened it up.
A male voice said, “What up, bitch?”
Who the hell is that?
Fear gripped at her chest and squeezed tightly as she spun to her right and saw a man on the couch.
“I forgot that you were going to be here. I almost had a heart attack. How ironic would that have been, to survive a shooting only to be killed by a funny greeting.”
“Are you alright about this?” Bo asked in a serious tone.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s crazy, but I might be in a unique position to help solve this crime.”
“What?” he wondered aloud.
“Let’s just say someone wants me to help and they are going to give me clues to investigate.”
“Wait, the hot cop asked you to help?” he asked.
“Uh, well, I’m not supposed to say, so keep your mouth shut, OK?”
“Sure, but I just have to say that is so hot,” Bo told her.
She didn’t tell him the truth because although Bo had been one of her biggest defenders over the years, she could tell he didn’t really believe her. He didn’t believe in the supernatural like Whitney.
“So do you know a guy named Dan Elders?”
“Nope. Wait. Are you working up a love triangle already?” Bo asked.
Whitney laughed and sat down next to her best friend. “No. That’s my first clue.”
“Well then, we need to ask ourselves, what would Jim do?” Bo asked with a smirk on his face.
Bo was a huge James Bond fan and fancied himself as an amateur spy.
Whitney said, “I don’t know what Jim would do, but I’m going to look him up on Facebook.”
“Well, yeah, sure, that’s the first place to start. Every agent knows that,” he rambled.
She fired up her laptop and typed the name into the search bar on Facebook. About a dozen people came up with the same name and she started looking at profiles. The first four weren’t even from her country and she got discouraged. She went through all twelve people and no one could have been the suspect.
“Any ideas?”
“Huh, wish I had my 007 badge with me. I think a lot better with that in my hand. Oh wait, try Daniel Elders,” Bo suggested.
She quickly deleted the first name and typed in Daniel Elders. Only six profiles came up with that name and the first one she saw looked promising. She found Daniel Elders wearing the basketball uniform from the local college, Bucknoll.
Whitney looked at more pictures and realized that he was on the same team as Susan Fol
ey’s son. The problem was that they were in between semesters so she couldn’t go to the school to track him down. She kept looking through his profile pictures and found the classic shot she was looking for.
Daniel Elders sat on the hood of an old school car. The young man wore a thin tank top and had his arms folded across his chest. But it was the background of the picture that Whitney focused on.
“There it is,” she said and turned the computer screen toward Bo.
He stared at the screen for a few moments and said, “Look at you, the little private detective. How do you know that’s his house? I mean it’s cool to have an address, but that might be his friend’s house that he’s at.”
“Look closer. You can barely see it, but under the street name you can see the name Elders.”
“Yep, I see it now. So what are you going to do? You going to stalk this guy?” Bo wanted to know.
“I’m not sure yet. Is that what I should do? Probably, huh,” she answered her own question.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if you had a best friend that was so into spy stuff that he could set you up with the works before you go out in the field? Sorry, but that’s how international agents talk. Always remember that double agents are always spies, but not necessarily the reverse. I’ll slow it down for you.” He smiled.
“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” she told Bo and they both laughed.
He lowered his eyebrows and said, “Alright. Be at my house at 0800 hours. Know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, you’re saying that you’re a dork. See ya at eight.”
Her mind danced as she went to bed. Today was the day she had been dreaming about ever since she was twelve. She still carried grief over the death of Susan Foley, but the seeds from the prophecy had finally sprouted today. She worried that the other people in town might infect Trent’s head with all the lies about her that went around.
Whitney started to get scared that she was going to screw everything up with Trent. She hadn’t been on a date in almost three years and thinking about pushing the perfect man away frightened her. Whitney took a deep breath and finally got to sleep.
She woke up the next morning and immediately went on her laptop and found out where the address was located. It was in a nice suburb just outside the city, about twenty minutes away. Nervous energy shot through her body as she steeled herself for the day.
She left her apartment and got to Bo’s about ten minutes later. His small house that sat on a huge plot of land finally came into view as she spotted the huge, spinning silver weathervane on the roof. She slowly drifted down the rest of the dusty driveway and parked.
I should have texted him before I came. I bet he’s sleeping.
She knocked on the door and sure enough, no one came to it. She knew he was there because his car sat right next to hers. She pounded again and a groggy-looking Bo slowly opened the door. Whitney shoved her way in as he let out a big yawn.
“What do you want?” he asked.
Whitney shot him a glare and Bo said, “Joking, just joking. Easy with all that foaming at the mouth. Not a good look on you. Ah yes, I forgot that you were more likely to be the bad cop type. Maybe I’ll give you my cattle brand,” he said.
“What?”
“Huh,” he replied with a smile. “So come in here and see what I have laid out.”
He led her into his dining room, which had spy equipment spread out over the rustic oak table.
Bo said, “Alright, here we go. First up.”
He picked up a small golden cylinder from the table and said, “This is a vial of the strongest poison known to man. If your mission were to head down the avenue of dire straits and drastic action must take place…” he started laughing and composed himself after a few moments.
“Just kidding. I was just testing your level of commitment. There are really only a few things you are going to need for what you are doing, if you even know what you are doing. Alright, binoculars and badge.” He handed her a realistic-looking, fake police badge.
He picked up a tiny, square object from the table and held it in his palm as he explained to Whitney. “Here’s your super-secret tiny camera. See this spot right here on the bottom left?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“You just give that a little squeeze like so, and you just took a picture. As soon as you take the digital picture, it will go into my private cloud and no one will be able to touch it.”
“Right, because nobody’s ever had anything stolen off a cloud.”
“Look, don’t worry, this one is secure. And as for this badboy.” He picked up a pair of plug-in earbud headphones connected to a circular piece of plastic shaped like the opening of a trumpet or air horn.
“Put the headphones in and point the opening of this at whatever you want to hear. Simple as that. You want me to go with you?” he offered.
“Nah, I think I got this. Probably going to be pretty boring. Thank you though. I’ve got to get going so I have about two hours of trailing before I need to get to work. Sorry, trailing is a technical term.” She smiled and went to leave.
“No it’s not, rookie. It’s called tailing, where you follow someone close enough that you could be their tail. Get outta here before you use up all your cheese tokens. Go catch that real life bad guy, huh,” he encouraged.
Whitney jumped into her car and cruised over to the Daniel Elders’ address. She didn’t know what to expect or how this young man fit into the murder. She found the house on a winding road and parked across the street. She thought that she was far enough away not to draw attention, but close enough to hear and take pictures.
She moved to the back seat and shoved in the headphones. She held the listening device in her left hand and the camera in her right as she sat on her knees and looked out the back windshield. She needed to shift back and forth because her knees kept falling asleep.
After about a half hour without a peep or sight of anyone, she started to get bored. Another hour went by and nobody came or went. Suddenly, the door opened and someone emerged.
An older woman came out and then looked back into the house. Whitney tried to listen but the device wasn’t working. She tapped it and held it up again as the woman was getting into her car. Still nothing. She texted Bo to see if there were any problems with the instrument. He immediately messaged back and Whitney felt stupid.
In her haste and excitement, she had forgotten that the machine couldn’t hear through glass. She ditched the headphones and focused on using the camera if the guy ever appeared. After another half-hour, her target came out and sat on the hood of his car. Whitney couldn’t understand what was going on as a few minutes went by.
A slow rolling boat-style red Cadillac coasted up and parked at the house next door to Daniel’s. A well-dressed man got out and walked toward the suspect’s house. Daniel Elders sprang up from the hood of his car and went to meet the other man. She stared at the two men as they neared each other.
Holy shit. I’m supposed to be taking pictures.
She held the camera with a shaky right hand and pressed the area in the lower left-hand side several times. The man from the Cadillac looked around and reached into his vest. He handed a white envelope to Daniel, who opened it and held his hand out. The man from the Cadillac threw his hands up and refused to shake Daniel’s hand. He turned to leave and Whitney recognized the man. Joseph Luensia, a top member of the Dante Crime Family, pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and answered it.
Whitney quickly grabbed the binoculars and looked at Joey’s car. There was someone leaning back on the passenger seat with his flashy footwear on the dashboard. Both of the gangsters wore expensive shoes that didn’t match the ones from the murder scene, but they all could have been from the same collection. The man turned around to check on Joey and Whitney recognized him too.
Alonzo Ichrab was near the top of the Dante Crime Family tree. She threw the binoculars down and focused back on the handoff.
Joey ‘Left Sh
oe’ Luensia walked back to his car and Whitney watched the huge, chrome-plated bumper vanish into the hot summer day. Whitney knew them from their pictures in the paper for being under indictment for racketeering and embezzlement, although she was positive he was responsible for even more serious crimes than that.
So Joey paid this kid to kill Susan? I can’t believe I just saw what I saw. I hope that camera was working. Why would a mob-guy hire a college basketball player to kill his teammate’s mom? Is Daniel trying to get into a life of crime? This has answered some questions but raised many more.
She went as fast as her car would allow on the way back to the library. Tara was sitting on a picnic table outside the library eating an ice-cream cone.
Her friend took a big lick of the soft serve and talked with a full-mouth, “Girl, you’re slipping. Late twice in two days. Who’s going to die today?”
“Very funny. I was just at Bo’s and lost track of time. How much longer do they have in there?”
“They keep saying any minute now. Evelyn was in there talking to them about when she can clean up the mess and dude said they need to take a few more pictures before we can move anything. Still an active crime scene, the po-po keeps saying. Who knows?” Tara shrugged her shoulders and went back to her ice-cream cone.
“You might not want to call them the po-po to their faces, it’s pejorative.”
“Well it’s my prerogative to call them what I want. You ever heard of anyone getting arrested for using that term? And I think the word cop is much more pejorative in connotation. You’re not the only smart one around here,” Tara said with a mean look.
A squad car pulled into the lot. Trent got out and adjusted his big helicopter sunglasses that sagged down just enough so the sunlight could make his bright eyes sparkle. Whitney’s head started to buzz with excitement as he neared.
“How come you haven’t called me yet?” he asked with a wide grin.
“What’s it been, twelve hours?” She smiled back, trying not to look too excited.
“More like twenty-three and a half, but hey, who’s counting?” Trent rhetorically asked.
The Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventure 3 Book Bundle Page 3
