“I shouldn’t have slept with my brother’s wife, but was that really a reason to kill me?” The spirit’s disgruntled voice echoed in my aching head.
“Not now.” I glanced around uneasily, praying none of the other cops at the crime scene noticed me mumbling to myself. “Please, go away.”
“Go away?” The spirit sounded insulted. “But I need your help.”
“Shhh. I’m trying to work,” I whispered, following Thompson up the red brick path of a quaint blue house. It was charming with a small garden stuffed full of mustard gold and purple petunia and surrounded by a white picket fence. It looked like the kind of place where nothing bad ever happened.
The bloodied corpse of a woman on the porch steps shattered that notion.
The displaced spirit muttered, “One time. I slept with her one time. She was no angel. I mean, she came on to me!”
Pressing my fingers to my temples, I grumbled, “Be quiet.”
Thompson gave me an uneasy glance. “You okay?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “I just have a hitchhiker I need to get rid of.”
“Oh. Not related to this case?”
He gestured toward the crumpled body of the deceased woman. “Is she here yet?”
Gritting my teeth, I said, “No. Although, it would be hard to hear her with this other guy yammering at me.”
Thompson handed me a pair of nitrile gloves and some shoe coverings. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Not really.” I pulled on the gloves, my head throbbing. Clearing my throat, I softly addressed the frustrated spirit. “Listen, I… I can’t help you. I’m really sorry. Your brother is long gone. He can’t be prosecuted.”
“It wasn’t fair,” the spirit whined. “Not fair.”
“I agree, but it’s too late. I’d help you if I could, but I can’t.” Perspiration broke out on my face as his energy surged.
The spirit hissed, “So he just gets away with it? That’s not right.”
In a dull voice, I said, “Yes. It’s not fair. You’re right about that.”
“Then why won’t you help me?”
“Your brother is dead. What could we do at this point?” I blew out a shaky breath, trying to mentally shield myself from his spiteful energy. Some spirits had a gentle presence that was almost soothing, and some made you feel as if you were sticking your hand in a hot toaster. This guy was definitely a toaster type.
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