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if he was telling the truth, it meant he was aware of the Fringe and was actively seeking us out. Not a lot of good outcomes in either one.

“If you’re lying to me,” I said, “you’ll be done in this town.”

“What’ll you do?” Hawkins asked smugly. “Rat me out to Mason’s receptionist?”

“Worse. I’ll rat you out to his lawyers.” I let that sink in for a second. “When they hear that a licensed private investigator is naming Harold Mason as having connections to a murder victim, they’ll rake you over the coals so fast you won’t be able to tell which testicle is on fire. They’ll sue you for everything you own and then go after the fillings in your teeth. So, think carefully before you send me off on a wild goose chase after this man.” Hawkins sat back and appeared to be on the verge of panicking.

“I swear, Harold Mason was the one who hired me. Look, I can prove it was him. I record all of my clients when they come in the door. Part of the job, ya know.”

“And a good way to blackmail them afterward,” Bill interjected. Hawkins shrugged.

“Only if things get tight. Look, I’ve told you everything. Can I go now. I was serious about owing people some money. I gotta get out there and earn a living.”

I thought about keeping him around. Not because I liked his company, mind you, but if things didn’t pan out with Mason I’d want to talk to this shit-stick again, or at least have a look at whatever info he had on the Fringe. But scum like Hawkins was a bit like Waldo; no matter how hard he tried to blend into the background, you could always find him if you looked hard enough.

“Don’t leave town,” I said, tossing him my business card. Hey, I’d always wanted to say that to a perp. Sue me.

I came out of the interview room feeling confused and on edge. Things didn’t improve when I saw my boss, Captain Gary Barker, standing at the door to his office and motioning for me to join him.

Captain Barker was a good supervisor, unlike his second in command, Calloway. He didn’t micromanage and treated everyone under his command with respect and confidence. As long as you did your job, didn’t cut corners and stayed on the right side of the law, you were golden. Screw the pooch on any of those three things and he’d be the first one in line to nail your carcass to the wall. I liked him.

I came into his office and took the seat he offered. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the thermos he kept under his desk and offered me some, which I politely declined.

“That was a hell of a job you did in there,” he said. “I was watching the video feed from in here. Do you trust this Hawkins guy?”

“Not for a second,” I said. “But I believe his intel is good.”

“And what do you think about this whole magic business?” I had to tread carefully here. Barker could spot a lie from a thousand paces.

“I think it doesn’t matter one way or the other. An innocent young woman is dead. And whether or not she can pull rabbits out from behind your ear while reading your palm is irrelevant. The killer left a trail, and I have to follow it, even if that trail leads to Harold Mason.”

“You be careful, Detective,” Barker said, his voice filled with caution. “You know what kind of clout that man wields. I’ve seen the career of more than one good officer hit a nose dive because they inconvenienced themselves on Mason. I’d hate for that to happen to you. You sure you want to pull on this thread?” I didn’t hesitate for a second.

“I’m sure, Sir.”

“Okay, then. If you go at him, you go at him respectfully. You don’t accuse him of anything. You merely ask about the report Hawkins sent him regarding Nichole Barret. Make it sound like there was something in it that might give you a clue as to who the murderer is. And, above all else, never let on that you suspect him of any kind of wrong doing. Thank him for his time. Compliment his tie. Make him think he has you wrapped around his little finger. Flirt with him a little.”

I shot him a look.

“Don’t give me that,” the Captain said. “I’m only telling you this for your own good. The more you disarm this man, the safer you and your career will be.”

“Sir, I understand the man has a lot of pull, but you’re talking about him like he’s the devil’s only begotten son. The man runs charity drives for orphan penguins, for God’s sake. I mean, how bad can he be?”

“Exactly my point! Sponsoring charities and giving to the poor is all well and good, but this guy goes overboard with it in a way I’ve never seen. Now, to everyone else, this might just mean he has an overly large heart, like the Grinch after he discovered Christmas. But you and I, the people who have seen the darker side of humanity, recognize this tactic as something else.”

“It’s a distraction technique because he has something to hide,” I finished the thought for him. Barker nodded grimly.

“Exactly. And my gut tells me if he thinks, for a split second, that you’re looking too close at an area where you need not be, he’ll bury you and this whole division with you. That’s all I’m saying.”

“I’ll be careful, Captain,” I said with all seriousness.

“Good. Because if he really did kill Nichole Barret because he thought she was an honest-to-god witch, there’s no telling what a man with that kind of delusion will do.”

Or a man who’s that close to the truth, I

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