I sat down and watched a little television. Just as an old episode of the Munsters was ending, I heard a knock on the door. It was Frank, in full uniform. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He handed me a document. I hoped it was not an arrest warrant. It was a search warrant for my car.
“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” I asked.
“Sure, come on down to the station. We’ll talk.”
“Why, don’t you come in? I’ll make coffee. We can talk here.”
“Sure, why don’t you tell me what you had against your client? Did he forget to pay a bill?”
“I thought you said I wasn’t the ritual murder type.”
“Maybe I just needed to get to know you better.”
“If I go to the station, do I at least get a good cop, too?”
I brought him a cup of coffee. He tasted it and said, “Sure why not?”
“I know I must look really built to you but, how the hell do you think I took the head off a three hundred pound man and hung him from a rafter?” I’m 5’9” and weigh 160 pounds soaking wet. Thomas could have crushed me like a bug.”
“Maybe you got a little help from your friends?”
“Oh, which friends are those? My witch doctor friends or my ritual murder friends?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you give me a list of all your friends—names, addresses and phone numbers?”
“What makes you think I’m involved?”
“He had your business card and he left a message on the ceiling.”
“That’s bullshit. By the way how did you discover a body so fast in the middle of nowhere?”
“I thought I was asking the questions.”
“I thought this was a conversation, not an interrogation.”
“Why don’t we continue this at the station?”
I got up and handed Frank my car keys and a garbage bag. I had used up the rest on my little trip. I made a mental note to buy more.
“Clean it up while you’re at it. Maybe give it a wax.”
“Fuck you, Sam,” he said as he headed for the door.
“Not very professional, Frank. Aren’t you afraid I might put a hex on you or send my friends out for a late night beheading?”
“You’re lucky I don’t run you in for obstructing justice.”
“Justice. Do you know what that is, Frank?”
Frank was an asshole and had no imagination. It was too much of a coincidence that they had found the body so fast. The fact that they knew about the head scared the hell out of me. Also, who was the confidential informant? My guess was the real killer. Although Chloe came to mind, how was she going to take the head off a three hundred pound man and hang him from the ceiling? I knew this conspiracy involved the government. The cops had done everything too fast.
I didn’t know if the murder involved the supernatural. Or maybe I did know but was afraid to admit it. One thing was for sure: I was in deep shit and needed help. Who the hell was going to believe this story? Even if someone did believe me, who would have the power to help? I didn’t know if I needed a priest or a lawyer. I settled for Bob. I let the police finish their search of my car. I decided to take my bike and head for Bob’s house.
“Don’t go too far,” Frank yelled after me.
I gave him the finger as I rode past.