Before we left, I changed into a casual outfit to further put Mrs. Gleason at ease.
Asa didn’t take his eyes off me, or the knee-length sundress with bumblebees zooming across the fabric.
There was no time to start a conversation worth having in under two minutes, so the drive was silent.
Sure enough, I pulled in, and Mrs. Gleason stepped out onto her porch with the gun in her hands.
Careful not to make any sudden movements, I lowered my window and called out, “Good morning.”
“Rue?” She eased down the stairs, the shotgun tucked under her arm. “I wasn’t expecting you back yet.” She spotted Asa halfway to me and froze. “You brought a friend.” She glared at him. “Are you that police looking into Rue’s ex?”
After he got his window down, he answered, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She came to my side. “Another police was by your place yesterday. Around five. He was dressed like this one, anyway. Not as pretty, though.” She gave Asa a more thorough examination. “I figured he was checking on your house while you were gone, so I didn’t shoot him.”
Smothering the urge to laugh, I cleared my throat. “I appreciate that.”
Tone polite, Asa coaxed her. “Can you describe him for us?”
“About the height of my late husband. Maybe five-eight or five-nine. Brown hair. Nice suit.”
On my phone, I accessed the photos of Olsen and Kidd. “Did you see either of these men?”
“No.” She shook her head. “That wasn’t him.”
So much for that idea. Illusion magic truly was a plague on the paranormal law enforcement community.
“I don’t understand.” She frowned. “If he’s a police, then can’t you call the station for that information?”
“We’re concerned my ex—” I lied through my teeth, “—might be impersonating a police officer to evade capture.” I poured it on thick. “We have reason to believe he discovered my new address.” I put a cherry on top. “I think he might be who you saw at my house.”
“I knew I should have shot him,” she growled. “That’s the last time I give the benefit of the doubt.”
This visit was quickly spinning out of my control. “I would prefer you not go around shooting people.”
“On your property, that’s your choice.” She patted her shotgun. “On mine, I believe in instant karma.”
As soon as this was handled, I owed her granddaughter a call. She had to talk Mrs. Gleason down for me.
“We appreciate your time.” I squeezed her hand. “Do me a favor?”
“I already said I wouldn’t shoot anyone on your property,” she grumbled. “What else do you need?”
“If you see him again—or anyone else—call my cell. Do not go after him. He’s armed and dangerous.”
“Well, what do you know?” Her smile was feline. “So am I.”
“Please?” I squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”
“All right.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek then stepped away. “I’ll call a meeting of the Yard Birds.”
“Thank you.” I raised my window and backed onto the main road. “Well, that got us nowhere.”
Asa didn’t agree or disagree. “Who are the Yard Birds?”
“They’re our neighbors, and a few of her friends. They’re our unofficial neighborhood watch.”
That made him smile. “Are you sure it’s wise to let her rally her troops?”