Murders & Romance: A Psychic Detective Romantic Mystery (Isaac Taylor Mysteries Book 5) by Lashell Collins (ready player one ebook .TXT) 📗

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Pete nodded and leaned back. Isaac nodded when his partner’s eyes met his again.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Camden.” Pete stood and handed the man a card. “If you think of anything that might help, no matter how insignificant, please give us a call.”

Isaac stood next to him. “And don’t leave town. We may have more questions in the future.”

Jonathan showed them out. When the door closed behind them, Isaac looked at Pete.

“What’s your gut say?”

“Gut says he’s lying.”

“Good. Your gut is right.” Isaac walked down the porch steps toward the car. “What else did you pick up on?”

“If he didn’t do this, he knows who did.”

“Yep.”

They got into the car and headed for the appliance store to find brother number two. Inside the store they went straight to the first salesman they spotted.

“Detectives Taylor and Vega. We need to see Scott Camden.”

The scrawny man looked shocked, but before he could say a word, another man came toward them.

“It’s all right, Tommy. I’ve got this.”

The scrawny man walked away, and Isaac looked the newcomer over. He was taller and slightly more robust, with the same light brown hair and blue eyes as the other Camden men.

“I’m Scott Camden, and I already know why you’re here.”

“How’s that?” Pete asked.

“I saw on the news where those three douchbags had been killed. I knew it was just a matter of time before you guys came sniffing around. And before you ask, no. I didn’t do it. But I’d sure like to buy the guy or girl who did a drink.”

Isaac handed over a piece of paper.

“Mr. Camden, where were you during these three times?”

Scott studied the paper and then huffed out a breath, almost grinning.

“You gotta be kidding me?”

“Nope. Not kidding.”

“Well, these times are all in the middle of the night. I have to get up at 5:30 every morning to come open up the store by 7. I was at home sleeping.”

“Can anyone corroborate that?”

“Yeah, my girlfriend, Sharon. We live together.”

Isaac carefully handed over his small notepad. “Name and number where we can speak with Sharon.”

“Jeez,” Scott mumbled, taking a pen from his shirt pocket, and scribbling down the information.

“Since you didn’t kill your sister’s rapists, I don’t suppose you know who did?”

“I’ve got no clue.” Scott handed back the notepad. “But I’d really love to thank them when you find them.”

“Right. Thank you for your time. Stay local. We may have more questions for you later.”

Outside the store, Isaac shook his head and started for the car.

“Same song, different verse. I didn’t do it, I don’t know who did it, but they’re great, and the dead guys don’t deserve justice anyway.”

Pete opened the passenger side door and looked at him from over the top of the car.

“You kinda can’t blame them though. If what happened to Amber happened to my sister, I’d want the guys who did it dead too.”

“Enough to lie to protect the killer?”

“You think Scott Camden knows who did this?”

“I think the father believes his sons did this. And I think both sons know who actually did it, but they aren’t talking.”

“Is that your psychic powers at work, or just a hunch?”

Isaac slid into the drivers seat. When he’d strapped on his seatbelt, he looked at Pete, who was just closing the door.

“It’s just a hunch. But it’s an educated one. The way Jonathan Camden hesitated when you asked if he knew who did this. There was something in his eyes and his tone of voice. And just now, with Scott Camden. The way he came at us loaded and ready.”

“You think his only-a-matter-of-time speech was rehearsed.”

“I do. But we can’t prove it.”

“So we keep moving down the list? Move on to the step-dad?”

“Moving on.”

They carried on throughout the morning, running down all of Amber Camden’s closest male relatives and getting much the same responses. Not surprisingly, none of them had much sympathy for the dead boys, and Isaac couldn’t fault them. They were still grieving the loss of Amber — a girl who wasn’t dead, but who may never come back to them.

It was a bitch of a case. And now all the players had been silenced in one way or another.

Isaac sat at his desk mulling over all the interviews they’d conducted, and his stomach growled, reminding him that they’d skipped lunch to get through them all.

Pete suddenly pointed the eraser end of a pencil his way.

“So, I’m thinking… since our questioning of Amber’s male relatives didn’t yield us much of anything, I think it’s time we go back and question those close to the victims. Other than that and digging into the court transcripts of the rape case, I don’t know what else to do.”

Isaac didn’t respond for a moment, and he rocked back in his chair, thinking.

There was something he could do that might help. But even the thought of it made everything inside him scream.

He couldn’t explain it. But he knew instinctively that touching the victims was the wrong way to go. Somehow, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to take it. The lingering trauma of touching the four little girls during the Lullaby case still tore him to shreds with every nightmare. He didn’t want to make an already horrible situation worse.

But they didn’t have much of a choice right now, did they?

He blew out a heavy sigh.

His voice was flat and resigned when he finally looked at Pete and said, “I know what else we can try.”

12

“Why don’t we break for lunch before I do this?”

Isaac was stalling and he knew it.

Pete knew it too.

“Look, Ike… you don’t have to put yourself through that. Not for this case. We’ll find a foothold some other way, man.”

Isaac sighed. He appreciated that his partner understood the risk he was taking. But he wasn’t sure there was another way. Three men were dead, and they had exactly zero leads so far. And yeah, those men may have been scum, but it was his job to