“Thank you, God. Praise God. A name! I’m actually getting somewhere.” Det. Sgt. McCreath could barely contain his glee as they left the strip club and walked together down St. Catherine Street, like two drunken lovers.
Me too, Digby thought, for the first time on this case, she felt like she was getting somewhere.
Two out of three bouncers agreed: The last person seen with Heather Dominie while she was still alive was Kurtis Dale Raymond Missions.
You couldn’t get much better than that.
The third bouncer, the one who didn’t pick Kurtis out of the photo array, would simply be left off the paperwork. He did not exist.
She ran her fingers throught the sides of her hair. It was getting longer again, finally.
“We got to find this guy, McCreath,” she said, climbing into his unmarked Explorer. “This kid is a nut. How much you wanna bet he’s not in Montreal anymore?”
McCreath cleared his throat. They were sitting in his car, parked on the street outside the strip club. “Travelling… He could be anywhere.”
“We need a Canada-wide warrant. We need his picture up in every police station in the country. And U.S. customs. He’s young, on the move, violent, capable of deception. Plus the connection to Gypsies, which probably means fake ID and even safe houses. He’s had an open warrant now for a long time. It’s possible he’s been stopped already somewhere but some cop let him go after he showed good fake ID.”.
Still, she felt relief in her heart, finally, like dipping into a warm bath after a long day. They had the right person. Finally. She was no longer chasing a ghost.
A Trickster. A Devil maybe, but not a ghost.
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