page 3.

“Indigo” he barked, and slammed a stack of papers on my desk.  “You know ‘bout th’ necktie murders, boy?”

I found this question puzzling and wanted to ask, “Why the hell would you even say that when the necktie murders is all you talk about?”

But all I did was nod and start leafing through the papers.

“Now here’s what’s goin’ on.  We got us a li’l ol’ woman livin’ out at the ol’ Watson plantation.  Now from my records there” he said, and pointed at the papers.  “She been livin’ on  that ol’ farm fer years.  Her name is Stormy Weather, an’ she one o’ them psychic people…”

But before he could finish I read something that made me blurt out.

“Old?” Boss did you see this birth date?  It says she was born in 1828...”

I looked up to see his face turn crimson, but this time he didn’t chew me out.  He just sighed and folded his hands.  We all knew this gesture as his trademark sign of restraint; a warning to shut up.

“Now I know this is hard to believe…” he began calmly, yet I couldn’t help but to continue, even thought he was clearly annoyed. This was 1961, and there was no  way possible anyone had lived that long I don’t care what kind of powers they were reported to have.

“I’m sorry Mr. Forbes.  I’m not trying to be a know-it-all or nothing, but that would make her…..”

This time he cut me off and said the woman was 133 years old.  I was outdone to say the least.  Over 90 and still coherent?  No way!  Not when my 50 year old aunt kept forgetting the same address she’d kept the past 50 years.

“Listen, Indigo” he chuckled. “I see that look on yer face an’ can’t help but laugh ‘cause I never believed it myself up ‘till now.  I always thought she was some made up crap to scare kids,  make ‘em act right.  I still ain’t met ‘er yet, but Leggs been working with ‘er on th’  necktie murders.  Ain’t solved nary a one” he shrugged, “But we had some damn good leads” he said, adding that she talked to the dead, and that’s how they found all the bodies.

Now I’m not easily spooked, but he could have kept that last comment to himself.  It only called to mind that last weird chat with my grandmother and made me want to back out.  Besides, Forbes didn’t pay enough to  talk to normal folk, let alone somebody old as dirt and weirder than a two-legged spider.  I suggested Forbes let Leggs continue to negotiate with this woman and handed him the papers.  That’s when he leaned over and whispered that Leggs was on sick leave.  He hadn’t been to work in weeks and the boss was surprised I hadn’t noticed.

I guess I should have at least noticed the improvement in air quality, but I had too many other things on my mind.  Here lately Emily’s been really pestering me to read her scripts, almost to the point of tears.  And Adora’s decided she wants a car.  Well I hated love novels, and Adora was getting pretty damned expensive.

“Would it help if I temporarily gave you Leggs’ salary?” Forbes asked, breaking my train of thought.  But my silence must have said a thousand words because he ran his fingers through his hair and said I could have Leggs’ salary permanently.

Now I knew things were serious because Forbes never gave raises.  But with Adora’s car now in sight I accepted the offer and asked for directions.

Soon I was speeding toward the freeway when I thought about Adora again and made a U-turn in the middle of the street.  She would be excited to know she could finally get that car, so I stopped in town to pick up a little something she could thank me in.