Free Shadows Fall by J.K. Hogan Page B

identifying characteristics that you noticed?”
    “No, sorry.”
    “Hey, every little bit helps,” he said with a smile.
    “I hope so. Is that it?”
    “One last question. Why did you go in there?”
    Oh, shit . It had never occurred to me that I might have to explain what caused me to stop. It should have. “What?” Fucking genius.
    “The building where you found the body… why did you stop walking and go inside?”
    “I, uh… I don’t really remember. No, not that I don’t remember, I just can’t really explain it. I thought I heard something—probably was just a stray cat or something—and I just had this feeling. You know, like how you get when someone’s looking at you while you’re turned away… but you feel it, so you turn and look. It was like that.”
    I hoped he could discern some kind of acceptable answer from my mindless babbling, because I surely couldn’t. I knew it was wrong, but I’d dealt with the cops once before when it came to my ‘special abilities’ and it did not go well. I wasn’t about to tell him that the ghost of the dead guy had practically forced me to go in there and find his body. The looney bin was not somewhere I wanted to vacation, thank-you-very-fucking-much.
    Charlie studied my face for what seemed like ages, and I hoped he couldn’t see me sweating. Eventually he nodded and shut off the recording. I was happy to have regular Charlie back, instead of all-business Detective Hale. “If you want to wait just a minute for me to check in with my captain, I’ll take you home… maybe check your place just to make sure everything is secure.”
    I breathed a sigh of relief because I’d been dreading going home. Imagining sitting in the townhouse, alone, in the dark, with visions of murder dancing in my head gave me the serious heebie-jeebies—and that was something for someone who saw ghosts all the time.
    “I would really, really appreciate that.”
    * * * *
    When I let Charlie into the townhouse, I did a cursory scan of the living room to make sure it wasn’t embarrassingly messy. Riot and I definitely weren’t straight enough to have a ‘man cave’ but we had decorated the place in a decidedly masculine fashion. The walls were plaster painted a light gray, with some areas of exposed brick strategically installed for the ambience.
    We’d kept the original hardwoods but had them refinished and stained. The living room was accented with a giant blood-red floor rug and two steel gray, fluffy leather couches. My favorite parts of the room were the exposed wood beams that held up the ceiling, and our gorgeous stone fireplace. Above the mantle, a rectangle recessed alcove held firewood logs, so that the circular ring patterns made up a kind of art piece. We didn’t need them, as the fire was gas, but I thought they added a rustic flavor. Across the room from the fireplace stood two massive, floor-to-ceiling bookcases that were stuffed to bursting with reading material.
    “Come on in,” I said, suddenly nervous as a teenage girl on prom night. “Make yourself at home. Riot’s away for the night so it’s just you and me.” Awkward, much?
    Charlie stepped past me and executed a slow circle, looking around the room with wide eyes. “Holy shit, Titus.”
    I let out a nervous laugh, uncomfortable with the attention so I attempted to deflect it. “Did I mention that Riot is stinking filthy rich? Yeah, that’s how a gypsy shop-owner from Nowheresville came to live in a fancy Fourth Ward townhouse.”
    He turned that intense scrutiny onto me next. “Don’t undervalue yourself, Titus,” he said. It seemed like he might say something more, but he just went back to checking out my place. “But it is beautiful.”
    There was an awkward silence in which we both stood in the middle of the room, unable to lock eyes. Without Charlie’s quiet reassurance to calm me, I began to think about what had happened tonight. Riot was out; I’d be alone with a psycho killer on the