one that I love, she told them. She is in danger, and she doesnât know it.
Marlowe! Marjorieâs voice came through and stabbed Shou Shou in the heart.
Yes, Shou Shou told her. You know how she is.
I know how she is, Marjorie responded somberly.
We have to protect her.
He wants her! they said in unison.
He canât have her! Shou Shou shouted. We have to fight for her! We have to keep her safe from him!
Her spirit had left her body. Shou Shou wailed like an infant. He could ravage Marlowe and leave her raw if he wanted to. He could destroy her!
We canât let him! Shou Shou shouted over and over again until finally the ancestors grew weary and released her to her sorrow and to her body.
All she could do now was wait and hope that Marlowe had enough common sense not to open the door and invite him in.
Â
Where You Hide
T HE SCENE OF THE CRIME. The only things left behind now were remnants of yellow police tape strewn about and a big, black patch of burned ground where that car had been. Plato stood, literally, out in the middle of nowhere.
âSo this is what that looks like,â he said reflectively.
A big, wide-open mass of nothingness, thirty-seven miles from the house of Mr. and Mrs. Price in Blink, Texas. Heâd pulled up a news clip of the actual scene the day it was discovered by Clark City police and used it to get his bearings. An autopsy determined that the victim had been shot in the head before being burned. It was the bullet that killed him and not the fire. So why burn a dead man?
âTo hide his identity,â Plato said out loud to himself.
The devilâs in the details. He walked a slow, wide circle around the burned ground, surveying the immediate vicinity of the crime scene. Police had likely done this a thousand times, and if there was anything for them to find, they certainly wouldâve found it by now. Perspective was everything when youâre trying to find something. Tall people see whatâs on top. He squatted. Short people see whatâs below. In this case, he didnât see a damn thing.
Nearly three miles from here was a frontage road. If the killer had come from there, theyâd have had to turn right into this field from that road and drive across it. From where he stood, you couldnât even see the road. Plato turned slowly again, surveying the expanse and outlying areas of this place. On the one side, the nothingness continued for as far as the eye could see. Behind him was a mass of trees. He had no idea how deep that forest went or what was on the other side of it. But those trees were a good half a mile away, at least.
Scenario one. âIâm Ed Price,â he muttered, staring out at where he knew the road was. âI need to get rid of this body.â
Why? Because he didnât want anyone to be able to identify it. âIâm gonna burn it,â he said, speaking the thought he speculated that Ed Price had. âBut why in your own car?â Plato turned his attention back to the burn spot. In his mindâs eye, he saw the scene unfold.
Itâs late, and Plato looks up and sees Ed Priceâs silver Cadillac STS driving slowly across the field with the headlights off. Price is sitting behind the wheel, sweating, his eyes wide and filled with panic. He glances in the rearview mirror over and over again. The dead man is where?
âIn the seat next to him?â Plato speculates. Nah. What if he were pulled over? What if some cop got suspicious?
âLaid out in the backseat or in the trunk,â he concluded.
Already dead or still alive. Ed couldâve had the other guy drive with Ed sitting next to him. No. In the backseat behind him with the gun pointed at his head. Stop fucking around with scenarios and shit that doesnât matter. Focus. Only on the facts. Only on what mattered.
Price is checking his list and checking it twice, going over the details in his head: accelerant, lighter, or torch.
Marlowe! Marjorieâs voice came through and stabbed Shou Shou in the heart.
Yes, Shou Shou told her. You know how she is.
I know how she is, Marjorie responded somberly.
We have to protect her.
He wants her! they said in unison.
He canât have her! Shou Shou shouted. We have to fight for her! We have to keep her safe from him!
Her spirit had left her body. Shou Shou wailed like an infant. He could ravage Marlowe and leave her raw if he wanted to. He could destroy her!
We canât let him! Shou Shou shouted over and over again until finally the ancestors grew weary and released her to her sorrow and to her body.
All she could do now was wait and hope that Marlowe had enough common sense not to open the door and invite him in.
Â
Where You Hide
T HE SCENE OF THE CRIME. The only things left behind now were remnants of yellow police tape strewn about and a big, black patch of burned ground where that car had been. Plato stood, literally, out in the middle of nowhere.
âSo this is what that looks like,â he said reflectively.
A big, wide-open mass of nothingness, thirty-seven miles from the house of Mr. and Mrs. Price in Blink, Texas. Heâd pulled up a news clip of the actual scene the day it was discovered by Clark City police and used it to get his bearings. An autopsy determined that the victim had been shot in the head before being burned. It was the bullet that killed him and not the fire. So why burn a dead man?
âTo hide his identity,â Plato said out loud to himself.
The devilâs in the details. He walked a slow, wide circle around the burned ground, surveying the immediate vicinity of the crime scene. Police had likely done this a thousand times, and if there was anything for them to find, they certainly wouldâve found it by now. Perspective was everything when youâre trying to find something. Tall people see whatâs on top. He squatted. Short people see whatâs below. In this case, he didnât see a damn thing.
Nearly three miles from here was a frontage road. If the killer had come from there, theyâd have had to turn right into this field from that road and drive across it. From where he stood, you couldnât even see the road. Plato turned slowly again, surveying the expanse and outlying areas of this place. On the one side, the nothingness continued for as far as the eye could see. Behind him was a mass of trees. He had no idea how deep that forest went or what was on the other side of it. But those trees were a good half a mile away, at least.
Scenario one. âIâm Ed Price,â he muttered, staring out at where he knew the road was. âI need to get rid of this body.â
Why? Because he didnât want anyone to be able to identify it. âIâm gonna burn it,â he said, speaking the thought he speculated that Ed Price had. âBut why in your own car?â Plato turned his attention back to the burn spot. In his mindâs eye, he saw the scene unfold.
Itâs late, and Plato looks up and sees Ed Priceâs silver Cadillac STS driving slowly across the field with the headlights off. Price is sitting behind the wheel, sweating, his eyes wide and filled with panic. He glances in the rearview mirror over and over again. The dead man is where?
âIn the seat next to him?â Plato speculates. Nah. What if he were pulled over? What if some cop got suspicious?
âLaid out in the backseat or in the trunk,â he concluded.
Already dead or still alive. Ed couldâve had the other guy drive with Ed sitting next to him. No. In the backseat behind him with the gun pointed at his head. Stop fucking around with scenarios and shit that doesnât matter. Focus. Only on the facts. Only on what mattered.
Price is checking his list and checking it twice, going over the details in his head: accelerant, lighter, or torch.
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