Glass Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective

Chapter 32

It's not that Zandra didn't expect her filing cabinets to go missing. That much she anticipated. It's what else is missing.

Even in the dim light, brought to life by the street lamp outside, Zandra can see the cushions of her dilapidated couch torn open. Were the police looking for drugs? For dirty money? No. There could only be one thing: David's original files on Gene Carey's scams at the insurance company. They looked in the right spot. Zandra hid those files for 25 years inside the couch cushions.

Gene must be behind the set up, with the police doing the heavy lifting for him. There's no quarter for her anywhere in Stevens Point.

But why? Why try to pin Elle's disappearance, and apparent demise, on her? A pre-emptive strike? Revenge? Seems a little extreme to kill one's own daughter just to get at someone who hasn't posed a threat in decades. There must be something more to it.

Zandra lights up a cigarette. It dangles in the corner of her mouth while she tours the apartment. Everything down to the coffee-stained doily's been touched. Rearranged. Marked. She's surprised they didn't take the bread out of the cupboards. It's a good thing, too. Her stomach gurgles as she preps a peanut butter sandwich in the dark.

She runs a bath after she's done with the sandwich. Her somersault through the window left her ankle screaming for relief. She submerges it in hot water and lights another cigarette. It's her last one. For as much as she needs to work on clearing her name, Zandra's next stop will be to a gas station.

That reminds her to fetch her good credit card from the bedroom after the bath. Thankfully, the police didn't swipe it from the wobbly nightstand.

Zandra makes a few sandwiches for the road when she hears something outside the front door. Footsteps. Then comes a knock at the door. Zandra nearly drops the peanut butter in her hand.

"Zandra?" comes a voice from the other side of the door. It's in a whisper. "You in there?"

Zandra tugs the lawnmower knife from her sleeve. Braces herself against the wall in the kitchen and tries to breathe through her nose.

"Zandra? Zandra, is that you? Open up."

The footsteps outside walk from the front door to the breached window. A face appears on the other side of the glass. Zandra isn't expecting to see the person looking inside.

It's Abby.