PERFECT TRUST: A Rowan Gant Investigation (Book 3)
DEAD I AM, DEAD I AM…
Apparently coming toe-to-toe with two different spree killers in less than two years can cause you to suffer from PTSD—or so they tell me. I suppose I can’t really argue the point since I actually do have all of the associated symptoms. Unfortunately, I have even more trauma and stress coming my way, courtesy of a serial sexual predator that is prowling Saint Louis, and he has just added homicide to his resume. I know this because a dead college cheerleader told me all about it.
I guess that last comment sort of begs an explanation, doesn’t it?
To make a long story short, my name is Rowan Gant. The spirits of murder victims talk to me—actually, scream at me would be a better description. The police seem to find this curse of mine useful, so they call me in to help out from time-to-time. On the paperwork it says I’m their “Occult Practices and Alternative Religions Consultant.” That’s the fancy title for the brass and the media; not that they’re fooled, mind you. Everyone knows that what I really am is the unofficial Witch of the Major Case Squad.
But back to those voices… Some are louder than others. Some are more insistent that I help them move on. And others…well, others are downright demanding and won’t take no for an answer. They do more than just talk. They crawl inside my skin, and then things get really weird.
Like right now with this dead cheerleader, for instance. She takes demanding to a whole new level, and ever since she showed up I haven’t been feeling at all like myself. To be honest, I’m not sure I even know who I really am anymore…
DEAD I AM, DEAD I AM…
Apparently coming toe-to-toe with two different spree killers in less than two years can cause you to suffer from PTSD—or so they tell me. I suppose I can’t really argue the point since I actually do have all of the associated symptoms. Unfortunately, I have even more trauma and stress coming my way, courtesy of a serial sexual predator that is prowling Saint Louis, and he has just added homicide to his resume. I know this because a dead college cheerleader told me all about it.
I guess that last comment sort of begs an explanation, doesn’t it?
To make a long story short, my name is Rowan Gant. The spirits of murder victims talk to me—actually, scream at me would be a better description. The police seem to find this curse of mine useful, so they call me in to help out from time-to-time. On the paperwork it says I’m their “Occult Practices and Alternative Religions Consultant.” That’s the fancy title for the brass and the media; not that they’re fooled, mind you. Everyone knows that what I really am is the unofficial Witch of the Major Case Squad.
But back to those voices… Some are louder than others. Some are more insistent that I help them move on. And others…well, others are downright demanding and won’t take no for an answer. They do more than just talk. They crawl inside my skin, and then things get really weird.
Like right now with this dead cheerleader, for instance. She takes demanding to a whole new level, and ever since she showed up I haven’t been feeling at all like myself. To be honest, I’m not sure I even know who I really am anymore…
