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to pull some big cases like the living legend, Jack Mercer. If that’s not an accomplishment, I don’t know what is,” she replied, giving me a cheeky grin.

I thought about that statement for a while. Did anyone actually consider me a living legend? I couldn’t really believe it myself. I was just some guy living out in New York City with the ability to find criminals that most struggled with. I didn’t consider myself unique, nor did I want others to think I was either. I just had a knack for thinking outside of the box.

“He’s not ready yet,” I decided to get back on topic. I hated talking about myself or any accomplishments I might’ve received in years past. A detective is only as good as their last case—that’s a motto I live by anyway. “He’s going to make a mistake or get shot out there in the field, and then who’s going to be around to help him?”

“You are, you dumbass,” Gwen replied. “I’m not saying kick him into the deep end. Aaron’s yearning for it, though, so take his hand and walk him through the shallows until he’s ready to go about it himself.”

“It’s too dangerous,” I shrugged.

The worst of it was, I knew she was right. I was too afraid of letting anything happen to my team that I’d never be ready to take him into the field. I didn’t want the responsibility, nor did I want another man’s blood on my hands. But Aaron was a good detective, especially on paper, so he’d undoubtedly kill it in the field.

I didn’t let anyone onto this.

“Look, I can see you’re uncomfortable, so I’ll drop it. But, Jack, it’s really something you should consider,” Gwen finished on the matter. “That being said, let’s start focusing. We’re not far off from Oscar’s home now.”

“I know. Can you actually believe we managed to find something on this case? If I’m frank, I was starting to lose all hope and think it was a lost cause.”

“You and me both,” Gwen replied. “But now, our man’s just a few miles away, and we’re going to walk away with the satisfaction of bringing down a crazed lunatic.”

“You think that’s it? This one man’s been causing so much havoc?” I asked, turning to her for a brief moment before setting my eyes back on the road.

“I don’t know if I’m honest. A girl can dream, though, right?” Gwen replied.

“A girl can dream,” I nodded my head.

I think we both knew that it wasn’t true. That whatever the Order of the Phoenix was, it was more significant than just one man… even now, 30-odd years later. We wouldn’t admit it, lest it bring a bad omen, but Oscar Carlisle was only a stepping stone to the greater plot.

“You think Delores made any attempts to get in touch with Oscar?” Gwen asked, after a few miles of silence.

I got lost to thought, and I supposed she did too, driving in the direction of Oscar’s home.

“I’m gonna have to guess that she definitely did, yes. But it seems like a very one-way street between the two. Delores regards him to an extremely high level, while it appears that Oscar wants little to nothing to do with her. So, I’m guessing she gave him a call to tip him off that we were on the way, but he won’t check her messages until long after. If anything, he’d be a little panicky by the time we get there rather than on the run already.”

“Some interesting logic you have there,” Gwen brought a hand under her chin. “You really think you know people that well to read a man you’ve never met?”

“Yes,” a straightforward answer to a simple question. “We’re also talking about a man that keeps taxidermied squirrels at the ready to dress up like anyone he wants. He rarely uses the internet, so what need does he have for a phone? You know, all those little things that build up a man’s character…”

“Aren’t those the ones that are usually a little too attached to their mothers? The Norman Bates types,” Gwen asked.

I understood her concern and her doubts about trusting my gut instinct. And now, I realized, I was taking a somewhat enormous gamble on this by not sending a car ahead or making sure Delores stayed quiet.

“You’re just putting doubts in my head, and I’m trying to focus,” I said, shaking the thoughts away. I always trusted my gut before anything else, and it never once treated me wrong. Now, I was hoping today wasn’t the first day.

“We’re here now anyway,” I said, taking the final turn into the rundown neighborhood where Oscar Carlisle lived. Most of the houses down the street looked abandoned, as if this was a ghost town rather than a prospering settlement.

Most of the yards were disheveled with dirt yards and tattered fences. Most houses had no lights on, with only a few that looked like candlelight. It was only the house furthest down the street, sitting on a corner with a car parked in the driveway. A Chevy Impala, with the same number plates Aaron ran.

Behind it, another dilapidated house stood. A light shined from the front window with no curtains blocking it. Inside, I could see him walking up and down with a newspaper in his hands.

Oscar Carlisle, dressed now in what looked like a black woman’s nightgown, but the same man who delivered a letter to Jane’s home while I was watching. The same man who’d been terrorizing my friends and their family. The same man that brought my world into a tailspin for the better part of two weeks.

My blood boiled at the mere sight of him.

“Jack,” Gwen’s voice distracted me. I stopped in the middle of the road at the sight of him and lost myself to deep thought. “Maybe

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