Ran out of coffee. Going across the street to the Sunshine Café. Lousy coffee but it’s not like there’s a lot of choice in this burg.
Marge at the Sunshine says Jenny the waitress just quit. Marge is looking for new counter help.
Marge and I talked about how to find reliable help in a small town like Scargill Cove. Neither of us had any good ideas.
Marge and I also talked about Fitch. She says she doesn’t think he’s been in the book business very long. Something about the guy.
I asked Marge what she knew about Hooker, the guy who used to own the bookstore. Marge didn’t know much.
The thing about Scargill Cove is that it’s one of those edge-of-the-coast towns filled with folks who don’t fit in anywhere else. Like me.
In places like Scargill Cove you don’t ask questions about peoples’ pasts. Bad manners. Also dangerous.
All Marge could tell me was that Hooker had arrived in town ten years ago and opened the bookstore. A loner.
I’ve been in town for a while now, and I went into the bookstore only twice. Don’t know any more about Hooker than Marge did.
Went online and checked out Hooker. Got nothing, which is always interesting. Guy had no past but paid taxes on time. Uh huh.
So now I’m curious. Who was Hooker, and why did he suddenly sell up and leave town? Or did he do either?
Looks like Hooker handled the sale privately. No real estate agent involved. Deed recorded properly. All taxes paid.
July 21
Asked Fitch how he found out that Hooker wanted to sell the bookstore. Fitch said he drove through town one day. Bought a book.
Fitch says he got to talking to Hooker, who said he was ready to move on. Fitch was retired and looking for something to do.
Fitch says the idea of running a bookstore appealed to him so he and Hooker did a deal. Doesn’t know where Hooker went.
Definitely bad energy in that store. Told Fitch I wanted to walk through the place, including the basement, soak up the vibes.
Fitch says the basement is stacked wall to wall with old junk. Says he hasn’t had time to clean it out.
Turns out the place used to be a bank. Old vault in the basement hidden behind a pile of crates. Fitch looks surprised. Maybe he is.
Vault is locked. New, high-tech lock, not the original. What are the odds that we’re going to find out what happened to Hooker?
July 22
Got a crypto-talent in from Oakland to open the vault. Hooker’s body’s inside. Not a pretty sight. Smell almost knocks us out.
Scratch marks on the vault door. Looks like the guy tried to claw his way out. Probably went mad before he ran out of air.
Local doc is the coroner and ME. Calls it natural causes. Guy goes into a vault, door slams shut, locking him inside. Accidents happen.
Sure, accidents like this used to happen with old, abandoned refrigerators. But an old vault? In Scargill Cove? What are the odds?
Hooker sold the shop to Fitch and left town. So what was he doing sneaking back into his old basement vault? Forget something?
County sheriff agrees with the doc. Hooker died as the result of an accident. No evidence of foul play, no motive. Nothing.
I told Fitch that the investigation was finished. He was right. Something bad did happen to Hooker. Case closed.
Fitch asks me if I believe that Hooker’s death was an accident. I tell him no. I remind him this is Northern California. He gets it.
Scargill Cove is in the heart of the Emerald Triangle. Marijuana country. Major cash crop. Lot of money involved.
Combine an illegal substance with big profits and you get violence. Odds are good Hooker was in the drug business.
If that theory is right, then Hooker may have been the loser in a quarrel with one of his business associates.
But I can’t shake two questions about Hooker. Why did he come back after moving out of town? What did he keep in the vault?
July 24
Illusion-talent decides to check in. Says he picked up the trail of the rogue. I hang up and think about the scratch marks in the vault.
I shouldn’t care how and why Hooker died. Hardly knew the guy and he probably had it coming if he was in the marijuana trade. Still.
It occurs to me that I need to do something about the Hooker murder because it happened here on my turf. This is my town.
When did I develop a sense of civic responsibility? When did Scargill Cove become home? Weird feeling.
If Hooker used the vault to store bundles of marijuana there should be some traces of the stuff.
Got to go out for coffee, anyway, so might as well stop by Fitch’s shop and take another look at the vault. I grab a flashlight.
Fitch seems glad to see me. We go downstairs and take a look around the vault. No visible residue of marijuana.
I examine the scratches on the vault door. Random marks left by a dying man? I go hot and raise my psychic talent for a closer look.
Within Arcane, there’s a formal name for my kind of paranormal vision: chaos theory–talent.
There are other, informal, less polite terms for people like me: paranoid conspiracy theorist, obsessive, eccentric. Nice resume.
Probably doomed to take over J&J. Couldn’t get any other kind of job. Can’t get a date, either. But that’s another issue.
People tell me that I see patterns where others see only chaos. And sure enough, I can see a pattern in the scratch marks on the door.
Hooker didn’t try to claw his way out of the vault. He knew that was impossible. So he left a message. In code. For me.
Fitch asks if I notice any clues. I tell him no. I don’t tell him about the code. I need to think about this.
I take a walk on the beach. Storm coming in. Why did Hooker think I might investigate his death?
He kept the code simple. Knew anyone connected with Arcane could figure it out. That means he knew I’m Arcane. Knew I’m psychic.
Hooker must have figured that if anyone ever found his body, I might get involved in the investigation. I’m the only PI in town.
The scratches are crude Roman numerals. I’m good with codes and this is child’s play. The numbers refer to letters of the alphabet.
The letters spell
Crystallus
. It’s one of the three Latin words on the seal of the Arcane Society.
Lux Lucis, Somnium, Crystallus.
Lux Lucis
: light.
Somnium
: dreams.
Crystallus
: crystals. Combined with fire they represent the Society’s theory of psychic energy.
Why would Hooker leave me a coded message referring to crystals? Like I tell my agents: there are no coincidences.
Hooker was killed around the time the Hawaii case was closed. He probably heard about Craigmore’s death. It was in the papers.
Craigmore was well known in the business world. But he had a secret life. More than one. I think Hooker knew about those other lives.
Hooker figured I was aware of Craigmore’s history with Arcane and the black ops government agency. Knew I’d get the message.
I keep walking. I’m running hot, in the zone. Letting the energy of the storm focus my talent.
Out there on the glittering web of the invisible psychic grid that is my chessboard, I start moving pieces. Running scenarios.
Hooker must have known about Craigmore’s psychic talent for manipulating the energy of crystals.
If he knew that much, Hooker might have known about the crystal weapon Craigmore kept as a souvenir of his black ops work.
Question: Did Hooker know about Craigmore because they worked together at the black ops agency? Yes. Feels right.
The black ops agency was shut down several years ago. But Hooker and Craigmore were about the same age. Could have been colleagues.
If Hooker knew that Craigmore was dead, why point me in that direction? Did he know about the Nightshade connection? My talent says no.
If Hooker knew about Nightshade he would have left another message. The scratches are about Craigmore and crystals and the weapon.
I watch more points illuminate on the paranormal plane. Craigmore’s crystal gun. That was the crux of Hooker’s message.
Maybe there was more than one crystal weapon. Reasonable assumption. Any remaining guns would be incredibly valuable. And dangerous.
Arcane. The government. Rogue crystal-talents. Arms dealers. The list of potential buyers is a long one. But so are the risks.
Anyone trying to sell the crystal guns would have a big marketing problem. The buyers would all be willing to kill for the product.
Maybe that’s what happened to Hooker. He wasn’t murdered for his stash of weed. He was killed for his stash of crystal guns.
The whole paranormal grid is hot now. I can feel answers slamming into place. But I need more background.
I also need more coffee. I go back up the cliff trail and walk into town. Stop at the Sunshine. Marge still hasn’t gotten a new waitress.
Marge wants to know if I’ve had any luck looking for an assistant. I tell her no. She gets me my coffee. I go back to the office.
I take a good look around the office. I’m buried in paperwork. Probably do need an assistant, but how do I find one in this town?
Back to work on the Fitch case. I fire up the computer. Hit my favorite conspiracy theorist sites. Whack jobs are as busy as ever.
I exclude the Area 51 crowd. Not dealing with aliens here. Focus on the black helicopter folks. Strike out.
Move on to what used to be my favorite conspiracy site, but the Sentinel went dark a while back and it is still silent. Rumors are circulating that the Sentinel is dead.
The Sentinel was way, way out there, definitely over the horizon, even for a conspiracy theorist. But in a weird way, I’m going to miss the site. What does that say about me?
No luck with the usual suspects. Sit back and think for a while. Get an idea and pick up the phone. Call Arizona Snow.
Arizona Snow is the ultimate conspiracy theorist. Lives in a little town on the Oregon Coast. Eclipse Bay.
Snow is kind of crazy. Sunk so deep into her conspiracy theories that she will never escape. Some people say I’ll end up like her.
Snow and I have never met but we have mutual acquaintances. Grace and Luther in Hawaii. They worked the Craigmore case.