So, what next? I had Michael's street address from the phone book, so I'd pay a visit to his house to see if there was anything of interest. After that, I supposed that I could find out the names of Jennifer and Michael's friends and family and just start going down the list, but what would I say? "Hi, I'm doing a survey on premature burial habits in the Chamber area. Have you or anyone you know buried a person alive within the past week?" I couldn't ask "Where were you on the night of August fourth, between midnight and 4 a.m.?" because anyone could say "I was in bed sleeping, you brain-dead moron!" and it would be almost impossible to prove them wrong.
I left Roger asleep on the couch and set a note on the nightstand for Helen that read "Went out." At least that kept me entirely truthful.
As I was on my way toHallowayStreet , where Michael lived, I came up on the Chamber Eastside Mall. Remembering that they had a game store inside, I decided to make a quick detour and see if the piece of card I'd found last night could be identified.
I pulled into the parking lot, went inside, turned down a free sample of nasty-looking Bourbon chicken from a vendor in the food court, and proceeded toGamer's Castle.
"Hi," said the gawky teenager behind the counter. I nodded and briefly looked through the racks of role-playing game merchandise. There was Dungeons and Dragons stuff out thewazoo , and even kits for hosting your own murder mystery parties, should I ever grow weary of having my murder mystery needs satisfied by real life.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" the teenager asked.
"Actually, yes," I said, approaching the counter and taking out the piece of card. "Could you tell me which game this belongs to?"
He took the card from me, glanced at it for a split second, the handed it back. "Oh, sure, it's a level one imp. It's one of the weakest characters in Prophecies of the Night. They're very common, not collectible at all."
"Prophecies of the Night?I've never heard of it."
"That's not surprising. It's really not very popular. It has a very weak character generation system, not anywhere near as realistic as the designer's last of couple games. But he was having personal problems and a tight deadline on this one, so it's understandable."
"Of course," I agreed.
"We returned a bunch of stuff to the distributor, but we have a few enemy decks left if you're interested. That's where the piece you've got came from."
"Well, if it has an unrealistic character generation system I'll probably have to pass. You wouldn't happen to know of any groups that play regularly, would you?"
The teenager shook his head."Nah. Like I said, it's not very popular. Actually, you could check the bulletin board against the far wall in case somebody posted one and I didn't notice, but I'm pretty sure there's not."
I walked back to the bulletin board, which was covered with index cards advertising gaming groups. I took a few moments to scan them, but the teenager had been right, there were none for Prophecies of the Night. Oh well. It was a long shot anyway.
I was about to thank the teenager and leave, but something stopped me. Okay, all I'd found was a tiny little piece of card stuck to my jeans. But unless it was already in the ditch, it had to have got there when the killer was moving me, and so there was a good chance that he was a player. And I'd read a few mystery novels, enough to know that it was usually the insignificant clue that solved the case.
I returned to the counter. "Actually, I'd like a deck of those cards, if you don't mind."
"No problem." The teenager left the counter and returned an instant later holding a small deck. He punched some keys on the cash register. "That'll be eighteen eighty."
"Say what?"
"Eighteen dollars and eighty cents, including tax."
"For a deck of cards?"
"Yeah."
"No, no, no, cards don't cost eighteen dollars and eighty cents," I explained."Cards a buck or two. A little more if they have naked women on them."
"You're not a seasoned gamer, are you?"
"Obviously not."
"I can give you a ten percent discount if you join ourGamer's Castle frequent buyer club. It costs ten dollars and is good for a full year."
"No, thanks, I'll pay retail." I dug out my wallet and grudgingly handed him a twenty, hoping that these damn cards at least came with bubble gum. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know a Michael Ashcraft, would you?"
The teenager thought for a moment."Nope."
"Jennifer Ashcraft?"
"Nope."
"Okay. Thanks for your help."
NOT BEING Sherlock Holmes has its disadvantages. While Sherlock would have been able to solve the whole mystery based on the composition of the dirt on the jeans I wore last night, I managed to pretty much bumble around for the next couple hours without learning anything of interest. I stopped at Michael's house, a fairly nice one-story deal in the suburbs, but the neighbors on one side were having a yard sale, and the neighbor on the other side was out mowing his lawn, so I decided it would be best to postpone any serious investigating.
I returned home to find that my mother-in-law had just brought the kids back, so we sat down to a soup and sandwich lunch. I tried to be a cheerful daddy, but with everything that was on my mind it was difficult to be as immature as my kids would have liked, even while listening to Kyle's vivid description of yesterday's activities.
"An' we played Squish the Bug an' we—"
"It's Stomp the Bug, stupid," Theresa corrected in that special way big sisters have.
"An' we played Stomp the Bug an' Theresa was the bug six times an' I was only the bug four times an' then Aunt Marcia came an' she took us to get frozen yogurt an' I got chocolate vanilla swirl an' Theresa got regular chocolate an' she dropped her cone in Aunt Marcia's car an' Aunt Marcia got mad an' said not to drop her cone again or she wouldn't be allowed to have food in the car an' Theresa said okay."
"Wow, busy night," I said.
"Yeah.An' wewatchedThe ElrodMcBugleShow . Elrod drank a whole swimming pool an' everyone who was swimming got mad."
"Will you take us swimming, Daddy?" asked Theresa.
"I can't today, sweetie. Daddy has stuff to do. But I promise I'll take you pretty soon. Just play outside today, but remember what I said about staying away from the boy next door. Anyone who tries to feed you kitty litter is not a true friend."
"Are you going off to be a freeloader?" Kyle inquired.
Helen nearly choked on a spoonful of soup. "Where did you hear that?" she asked.
"Aunt Marcia. What does `freeloader' mean?"
I decided to field that one. "It means your Aunt Marcia needs to keep her enormous mouth—"
Helen cut me off. "It means Daddy is currently testing various career opportunities."
"Oh," said Kyle, nodding with understanding.
Roger grinned."Testing various career opportunities. That's exactly the way I would have phrased it."
"Shut up," I said.
"Daddy, you're not supposed to tell people to shut up," Theresa informed me.
"Roger doesn't count. You can tell him to shut up all you want."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up," sang Kyle.
"Andrew, please don't talk to our children any more than is absolutely necessary," said Helen.
Chapter 6
AROUND ONE, I called again.
"Hello, GhoulishDelights , where we make your nightmares a reality.Rachel speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hi," I said. "I'm calling for Michael Ashcraft."