Read The Accused and the Damned: Book Three, the Eddie McCloskey Series (The Unearthed 3) for Free Online Page A

Spencer nodded at the detective.
    “Nice work here. Your boy is working on the police report?”
    Ross checked his watch. “It’ll be done soon.”
    “Did you talk to Mr. Ketcher yet?”
    “Waiting to see how you wanted to play it.”
    “I’m staying away until he asks for a lawyer. Let’s play it silky. You ease him along.”
    “Yeah.”
    Spencer started to walk away then remembered something. “You got a light?”
    “Don’t smoke.”
    “Neither do I apparently.” Spencer was about to leave but another car pulled into the mouth of the long driveway.
    “Shit. That must be him,” Ross said.
    Spencer and Ross shared a look. It was never fun having to deal with the vic’s parents.
    Ross barked orders at the patrolmen to keep the civilian away from the house. Spencer headed for the SUV to cut the man off at the pass.
    Councilman Towson left the engine running and jumped out of the car. His voice was full of anguish. “Is my daughter in there?”
    Spencer and Ross met him on the lawn with the other patrolmen. It took five people to hold the councilman back.

Ten
     
    It was almost three AM when Ross entered the interrogation room. Anson sat facing the two-way mirror, his hands cuffed and folded on the table.
    Ross shut the door and sat opposite.
    Anson’s face was bruised. His hair was a mess. His eyes were red like he’d been crying. He smelled of sweat and cigarettes and alcohol, even though he was stone cold sober by now.
    “It was the ghost,” Anson said.
    Ross regarded the man. He’d questioned plenty of suspects over the years and could spot a lie pretty well.
    And that was why he was convinced Anson had lost his mind. Because Anson didn’t look like he was lying. Either he’d mastered the art of deception in his spare time or he didn’t think he was lying.
    If Anson believed the words that were coming out of his mouth, that meant he’d gone off the deep end.
    The important question was when. Before, during, or after the murder?
    Sorting that out would involve the lawyers, the shrinks, the judge. If Anson flipped his lid before or during the murder, the DA could expect an insanity plea. If Anson had checked out after the deed, the defense would argue that Anson wasn’t competent to stand trial. That wasn’t an acquittal but it would cause plenty of problems.
    Ross didn’t like either scenario.
    “Anson, you’ve been read your rights twice now. Do you understand them?”
    He nodded.
    “Is that a yes?”
    “Yes.”
    Ross produced a police form. The Miranda rights were printed across the top. Ross put the paper in front of Anson and held out a pen. “Could you do me a favor and sign this sheet? It’s just your acknowledgement that you’ve been Mirandized and understand what’s going on.”
    Anson didn’t even bother to read the pre-printed form. Just quickly signed his name.
    “You were drinking earlier this evening. We’ve given you a couple of breathalyzers and now you’re under the legal limit.”
    Anson said nothing.
    “Do you feel impaired in any way?”
    Anson shook his head.
    “Is that a no?”
    “I’m not drunk.”
    Ross nodded. Took the paper back from Anson and folded it and put it in his pocket.
    “Now tell me what happened.”
    “I didn’t…” Anson’s voice faded and he started weeping. “It was the ghost.”
    In his twenty-plus year career, Ross had heard it all. He didn’t think he could be surprised anymore. Anson proved him wrong. The man was going to proceed with this ridiculous story.
    Ross let him cry for a moment. “Tell me about the ghost.”
    Anson sat up in his chair, folded his hands. His eyes glued to the table.
    “Anson, tell me what happened.”
    Ross folded his hands, matching Anson’s posture. It was an old trick, handed down to him by the detective who’d shown him the ropes. The social scientists called it mirroring. Most people did it subconsciously. Ross did it to show Anson he wasn’t hostile and wanted to foster cooperation. Which was