Page 55 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)

THEY FOLLOWED him into the living room.

Dan surveyed the room, noting the furniture, the rope still hanging from the ceiling fan, opening himself up to whatever energy was present.

“What have you got for us?” Gary asked.

Officer Lomax gestured to the coffee table. “We went through her purse and found this.” He picked up a slip of paper, already bagged in clear plastic and sealed. “It’s a receipt for a shoe store in Cambridge, Shoes On First.”

Gary gave him a focused stare. “And?”

The officer flushed. “That note she left, saying she killed Jeff Murphy? I was one of the attending officers called to that apartment at Cronin’s Landing last year.

I remember how he died.” He shivered, then seemed to pull himself together.

“Well… this receipt is for a pair of high-heeled shoes bought in January last year.” He pointed to the coffee table, where one red stiletto shoe sat, encased in a clear evidence bag.

“We found that under the coffee table. No prints on it.” He looked Gary in the eye.

“I might be wrong, sir, but that seems awfully similar to the one we found at the crime scene. It’s got the same metal design on the heel. Pretty distinctive, wouldn’t you say?”

Dan came over to observe as Gary examined the receipt.

“It’s dated January 16, 2018, and the buyer paid cash,” the officer informed them.

Gary smiled. “Well done, Officer Lomax. And now there’s something I’d like you to do for me, once we’re all done here. Go to Shoes On First, taking this shoe with you. It’s a long shot, but I want you to see if anyone remembers this sale. If it’s as distinctive as you say, we could get lucky.”

Officer Lomax blinked. “That is a long shot, sir, but I’m on it.” He paused. “And there’s something else. That suicide note. She couldn’t have written it here.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no printer. The cables are here, sure, but there’s a space where the printer should be.” Lomax shrugged. “Maybe it was being repaired.”

Dan noted the twinkle in Gary’s eyes.

“Ever think about becoming a detective, Officer Lomax?”

Lomax smiled. “My application is already in, sir.” He picked up the bag containing the shoe.

Gary walked slowly around the living room, then stopped to stare at the ceiling fan.

Riley cocked his head to one side. “What’s on your mind, Gary?”

He pointed to the rope. “Ask Del Maddox sometime about trying to distinguish between suicide and murder when it comes to a hanging. I read an article on it recently.”

Dan stared at him. “You mean it might not be suicide? Just made to look that way? But if she wasn’t at the restaurant like she said, then—”

“Then why would she tell us she was?” Gary’s eyes gleamed. “Maybe because she had an idea what was going down that night, and she’d rather have an alibi that we could corroborate than tell us she was sick in bed.”

Riley frowned. “Then whoever killed her would have to know about her being sick too.”

“Maybe she told him,” Dan suggested. Then he scowled.

“What I don’t like is the neatness of it all.

She keeps the receipt for the shoes she bought to kill Jeff with?

Never mind that—she keeps the other shoe?

No, I don’t buy it. And another thing. She typed her suicide note?

That’s a red flag right there, isn’t it? ”

Both Riley and Gary nodded.

Dan straightened. “Well, there’s one sure way to know if it was suicide or not.”

Gary smiled. “Over to you.”

Dan walked around the apartment, touching everything, seeing everything. Gary and Riley said nothing, letting him work. He went into the kitchen area, pausing at the sink.

Come on, Amy. Speak to me.

He stood still, his eyes closed, soaking up the atmosphere, trying to frame everything he sensed into a cohesive shape.

Finally he opened his eyes.

“What did you learn?” Gary gazed at him, lips parted. “Because you did learn something, didn’t you?”

Dan nodded. “On a practical note, there are two glasses in the sink, so maybe someone else was here last night. And I can tell you one thing for certain—Amy Walsh was scared.” The place reeked of fear.

“But was she suicidal?” Gary demanded.

Dan shook his head.

Riley gaped at him. “How can you be sure?”

“Because of a case I worked with NYC PD,” Dan told him.

“The dead guy had shot himself in the head, and they weren’t sure whether it was suicide or homicide.

” He shivered. “I remember the emotions I felt when I touched his possessions. Such despair, such pain. I don’t feel anything that strong here.

” He gave another decisive shake of his head. “No, Amy Walsh was murdered.”

Gary glanced over to where Officer Lomax stood and beckoned him. “Give me that shoe for a second.” He hands the bag to Dan. “See if you can learn anything from this.”

Dan gave Riley an inquiring glance. “I can take it out? It’s been checked for prints already?”

Riley nodded. “Have at it.”

Dan opened the bag, removed the shoe, and closed his eyes once more.

What the fuck?

He opened his eyes and stared at the shoe.

“What is it? What do you feel?”

Dan met Gary’s concerned gaze. “Amusement.”

Riley gaped. “She thought this was funny?”

Dan shook his head. “Not Amy. There’s no trace of her here. But her killer? He thought this was funny as hell.” He stared at both of them. “It’s as if he knew I’d be holding this.” He glared. “The bastard is laughing at me.”

Gary gave him a cool look. “Then it’s time we turned the tables on him.”