The Fix Is In (Torus Intercession 4)

It killed me to think that all the women had needed was a dog. Not a big scary dog, even a small yippy dog would have kept Dennis on the other side of that wall when they weren’t there. My mother had a Chihuahua, a Yorkie, and a Pomeranian, and no one ever got in or out of our house undetected.

“You guys need a beagle or something,” I mentioned to the two of them.

“Yes,” Saffron agreed. “We’re going to stay with my mother until we move, but once we do, absolutely, no question. There’s a nice man who comes into the diner where I work, and he trains German shepherds. I’m going to ask him about one.”

It sounded like a good idea to me, and I was sure Mr. Kramer would be thrilled to have one of his dogs find a home where it would be worshipped by not just one, but two people.

I called Owen when we were done looking for cameras, and he had me go to my cloud and download an app he put there to sweep for listening devices. I was pleased that nothing pinged in the apartment.

Brasher and Ramirez easily found the entrance to the enlarged crawl space in Dennis’s bedroom in his apartment and were back there walking through and testing which other medicine cabinets were loose so Dennis and his buddy Cole could be thoroughly questioned.

“Hey,” Ramirez said and passed me a Nikon D3500 on a finely tooled leather strap. On the bottom of the camera, the name Caleb Harrison was engraved. “I think we have more questions to ask Dennis.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “we certainly do.”

Rais and I went with Benji to the police station so he could give a statement about his photograph of the missing Caleb Harrison. Sian had an appointment with her ob-gyn, and Delly had an interview with a college recruiter. She went to school half days in this, her senior year of high school, and they alternated between mornings and afternoons, which was why she was able to meet me in the parking lot the day before.

“You know,” Benji said as we were sitting in Brasher’s office, waiting for him, “when we were talking earlier, I think you thought I was kidding, but you truly have opened my eyes to something very important.”

“When earlier?”

“When you were saying that we should add a skeptic to the team.”

“Oh, yeah, you should.”

“I agree, and I think you should help me find whoever that will be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You could interview our potential skeptic,” he said brightly. “You could find the perfect member for our team.”

“I think you’re more than capable of hiring someone.”

He took hold of my hand, lifting it into his and lacing our fingers together. “But I think if someone met you, they would take the position far more seriously,” he explained. “You should have seen how difficult it was for Sian and me to find Delly. Some real crackpots came in to interview when they thought we weren’t for real.”

“You and Sian had open interviews for Delly’s spot?”

He nodded.

“And you what, put an ad in the paper?”

Second nod.

It was like Jared with the YouTube ad. All the whack-jobs were just waiting to descend on him, and of course, Sian and Benji had been advertising for Egon Spengler’s job.

“It took us over two months to find her,” he murmured, leaning into my side and lazily rubbing his chin on my shoulder. He was so comfortable in my space, like the people in my life who trusted me were, and it was strange, since I’d only known him a day.

“I do think your input could be invaluable in helping us find a suitable candidate,” he continued on. “As soon as you figure out who’s trying to kill me, of course.”

“You just throw that out there so nonchalantly, like it doesn’t matter?”

“I know it matters,” he soothed me. “And I don’t want to die. I was simply stating a fact.”

“So now what?” I snapped at him. “Do you believe someone not ghostly is trying to kill you?”

“I think if, in fact, Caleb Harrison was murdered, then he’s not at rest and perhaps needs my help, so he’s not actually trying to kill me but instead wants me to catch his killer.”

“I––”

He put his hand up to stop me. “Therefore, yes, I believe that a human, not something spectral, is trying to kill me.”

Christ.

I was going to ask him who he thought it could be when the door opened and Brasher came in with Rodriguez.

“Okay, so for starters,” Brasher began as he took a seat at his desk, “Schmidt claims that he went in and out of all the apartments and stole everything from food and drinks to things far more valuable. If he was fairly certain the item, or items, wouldn’t be missed—he lifted it. And of course, he claims, no one misses food especially when you live with other people. You always think someone else ate it.”