Murders & Romance: A Psychic Detective Romantic Mystery (Isaac Taylor Mysteries Book 5) Lashell Collins (top 10 inspirational books TXT) 📖

weird that a lot of crimes seem to happen right around that time?”

Isaac looked over at his partner in the passenger seat and shrugged a shoulder.

“I guess they don’t call it the witching hour for nothing.”

“Hmm. I wonder if anybody’s ever done a study on that.”

“The best time of night to commit a crime? Oh, I’m sure somebody somewhere has done it.”

“Probably.”

“So what was the verdict on dinner? How’d your mom and Jada get along?”

“They got along great. I think my mom genuinely likes her. She called her smart and beautiful, so I guess those are good marks.”

“Congratulations. What about the other matter?”

“Mateo and Charlie?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I mean, they barely said two words to each other the whole time. You were there. Did you see them even acknowledge each other?”

Isaac thought about it for a second.

“Now that you mention it, no. I didn’t.”

“Yeah. Jada says that’s just a kid thing, and that we can’t rush them. That we can’t force them to be friends just because we love each other. I don’t know.”

“I think she’s right. They probably just need to spend a lot more time together, you know? To warm up to one another.”

Pete seemed to think about that.

“Yeah, maybe. Hey, listen. I’m really glad you and Sidney were there. It did help take some of the pressure off all of us.”

“We enjoyed it.”

“My mom has decided she loves you, for some odd reason. She thinks you’re a good man.”

Isaac chuckled.

“And Mateo thinks you’re some kind of weird psychic superhero. I’m pretty sure he’s writing you into one of his homemade comic books.”

“Sweet. I always wanted to be a comic book character.”

Pete snickered. “Well, thanks again for coming.”

“No problem. The food was really good.”

“As promised.”

“I’m sorry we were a little late getting there. Sidney had some trouble at work.”

“Again?”

“No, no. It’s not what you’re thinking. There was no irate husband this time. At least not in that fashion.”

“I don’t follow.”

Isaac sighed. He shifted in his seat and kept his eyes on the house under surveillance.

“She came out of Hope House this afternoon to find all four of her tires slashed.”

“Slashed? Like with a knife?”

“Slashed.”

“What the hell, man?”

Isaac shook his head. “I don’t know, but it didn’t sit well with me.”

“I’m sure it didn’t. You thinking it was that guy from the other night. The one she put the beat down on?”

“He’s the only one who came to mind. Guy like that was probably good and pissed to be put in his place by a woman.”

“Yeah, not to mention humiliated. She kicks his ass and pulls a gun on him. All in front of his wife, who he beats on a regular basis.”

“But honestly, we have no way of knowing for sure if it was him. I mean, don’t forget that he was picked up by patrol earlier today, and charged with assault and battery, trespassing, and violating his wife’s restraining order.”

“Which means he maybe didn’t have the time to slash Sid’s tires. Without knowing where patrol picked him up or tracking his movements today, we can’t say with certainty that it was him.”

“Exactly.”

“But who else could it have been, Ike?”

“I don’t know. But now I’m sorry I didn’t go down and pay him a visit in lockup. I should’ve gone down there and kicked his ass myself for putting his hands on Sidney. But she begged me not to.”

Pete glanced over at him.

“Could you really do that, Ike?”

Isaac’s gaze snapped to Pete with a jerk.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He manhandled the woman I love and left bruises on her face. What do you think?”

“No, I absolutely get the motivation. I don’t blame you there. But I meant, with your touch issues and all?”

Ike’s voice was ice when he said, “That’s what leather gloves are for.”

The anger that had been brewing since the incident suddenly threatened to boil, boil, boil to the surface. His stomach bubbled with it.

He turned his gaze back to the house just in time to see Burle Savage cross the street, moving toward it.

“Right on time. Let’s go blow off some steam.”

They waited until they saw the light come on in the entryway of the house, then crept from the car. The front door opened, and the homeowner greeted Burle Savage with that curious smile Isaac had seen in his vision.

He and Pete inched closer to the front door, hidden by the hedges that lined the walkway.

“Can I help you somehow?”

“You gotta nice house.” Burle Savage’s voice was calm.

“Thanks. We like it. But it’s awfully late, sir.”

“Can I come in?”

“What? No. I don’t know you. What do you want?”

“Your house.”

Savage made his move.

He shoved the homeowner hard in the chest.

The man fell backwards and hit the floor.

Savage stepped inside and whipped an old-style police billy club from the back of his pants. Then he leaned over, billy club held high.

Isaac and Pete rushed in, guns drawn.

“Cleveland police! That’s enough, Savage! Put the club down.”

Savage froze, mid swing, eyes wild.

He turned to see Isaac’s gun pointed at his head.

Pete snatched the billy club from Savage’s hand.

Savage looked Isaac in the eyes.

“I know you.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You’re that cop. The jumpy one who doesn’t like to be touched.”

“That’s right. And you’re the janitor who keeps bumping into me. You should’ve been more careful.”

Burle Savage was going to bolt. Isaac could see it in his eyes.

His right hand began to tingle.

The man lunged for the door.

Isaac raised his hand and slapped the air.

The door slammed closed.

Savage fell into it.

Pete used Savage’s awkward fall to their advantage and pounced.

A moment later, he was cuffed and being hauled to his feet.

Isaac’s veins pumped with power, the surge of it hammering his lungs and winding him. But through his astonishment, he couldn’t miss the what-the-fuck-just-happened look that Pete shot his way.

Isaac ignored it and turned his attention to the homeowner, who was still on the ground balled into a corner. He knelt down beside him.

“Are you all right, sir?”

“Y-yes, I’m fine. What’s happening?”

“Lawson?”

A woman crept down the stairs, wide-eyed and clearly