Stranger Danger (Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective 4)

Paco jumps on the bed and licks my face.

“Why didn’t you wake me up at the regular time?” I demand.

He makes a sorry face, but I can tell he doesn’t really mean it.

I immediately text Sarah. I can’t believe I overslept. I’m on my way!

After a few minutes, she texts back. No worries. We have everything under control. You just stay where you are. This is followed by a winking smiley face. Huh. That’s weird.

Oh no. I hope Betty Jean didn’t tell Sarah that Will and I were “putting together a puzzle” last night.

I slip on my sneakers, brush my teeth, and grab Paco’s leash. Will walks into the living room and yawns. “What time is it?” he asks, looking adorably sleepy.

“Better yet, what year is it?” I should probably check his pupils too.

“The year of owning up to being J.W. Quicksilver,” he shoots back.

“Good enough. I guess you’re not going to slip into a coma.”

He watches me dash around the living room trying to find my purse. “I thought we were going to the police station together this morning.”

I stop scrambling and turn to face him. “Yeah, about that … I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh no,” he mutters.

“Hear me out.”

“With no caffeine in my system? No, thanks.”

Excellent idea. I finish getting ready while Will makes the coffee. He hands me a mug and orders me to sit on the couch. “Okay, I’m ready now. Go.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that the cops haven’t come by or called you yet? They’ve had Archie Clements in custody since last night. If he told Travis that you’re the real J.W. Quicksilver, Travis would have come here by now. Or, at the very least, called you.”

Will takes a long sip of his coffee. “I was thinking the same thing myself.”

“Let’s say you go down to the police station and tell everyone that you’re the real J.W. How long do you think before the rest of the world finds out?” Before Will can answer, I tell him. “Maybe a day or two at most. If you’re lucky.”

“I told you. I’m ready to let everyone know who I am.”

“Sure. If this was a book signing or a release party or some big article in People magazine, it would be great. But the first thing everyone is going to associate with your coming out is that you’re a suspect in a murder case. How do you think book sales are going to do?”

“Honestly? I’m just jaded enough to think that it probably won’t matter. It might even help sales. The world is a kooky place, Lucy.”

“True. But what about your reputation? You said you wanted to come out on your own terms. I don’t think this is what you meant by that.”

“Once the cops know I’ve got an alibi for the time of the murder, I’ll be off the hook. Remember I was knocked out and tied up in a closet?”

“Says you. Do you have any proof of that?”

“I’ve got a lump on my noggin.”

“That we told the doctor at the hospital came from a bowling ball that fell off a garage shelf and landed on your head. Which, by the way—quick thinking.” At the time at least. In retrospect, maybe we should have told the truth, but if we had, the cops would have gotten involved, and last night we weren’t ready for that. “You said there was no one else at the house when you got there. The only person who knows you were left in that closet is you and Jefferson Pike. And he isn’t talking. At least not without the help of The Sunshine Ghost Society and a seance.”

Will snorts, but I can see that I’m getting through to him. “So what now?” he asks. “Just sit back and let my name be dragged through the mud? If I don’t clear myself, then this Clements guy is going to keep telling everyone that J.W. Quicksilver killed Jefferson Pike.”

“Not if I find out who the real killer is.”

Paco barks happily.