Glass Eye: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective

Chapter 48

Zandra doesn't need to think up a plan to get back into town. The only trick will be for the police to not fuck up her way to, well, the police station.

Once she wraps up her business about "the other person" there, it'll be high time to confront Gene about David. And then it's on with her life. For as much of a dirty shit Gene is, it's no use in letting him destroy the few remaining years Zandra has left to enjoy. Maybe she'll move out of state. Somewhere warmer, beyond her legacy in Stevens Point. A busted up Sneak Peek might be the best thing to happen to her in a long while.

Then, once she finishes blackmailing her old clients with the files she'll get back from the police, Zandra thinks of using the proceeds to buy a kept man. Someone young to keep her company as the sun sets on her life, perched on top a beach chair with an obnoxious drink and nothing to worry about but a massage appointment. And when she croaks, her gold-digging companion can reap the reward of his patience. From one con to another. It's only fitting.

It all seems so close.

Zandra makes her way to I-39 and points the car toward the freeway exit, but hesitates. She makes a quick turn out of the exit lane. I-39 is the main north/south axis for Stevens Point. Her gut tells her the police set up checkpoints in and out of the city. Better to take a back road. No telling what these cops might do if they spot her.

Zandra's intuition goes one for two. She right's about there being police checkpoints. She's wrong about the back roads being the way to avoid them. Cruisers block both lanes of the two-lane road. A pair of officers, one male and one female, direct Zandra to stop.

Stay in control. Don't let the police get the upper hand.

"Relax, officers. Everything's fine," Zandra says as her window descends in the door. She doesn't allow the pair to get the first word. Easier to manage the situation that way.

The male officer looks surprised. He takes a step back from the window. Zandra recognizes him as Bob, the dope she impressed with the cards back in Charlie's office.

The female officer seems more relaxed. She compares Zandra's face to the one on a flyer in her hands. Starts to say something, but Zandra keeps the conversation one-sided.

"Here's how it's going to work. I'm going to keep driving to the police station in town. You two are welcome to give me an escort. When I get to the station, I want to talk to a lieutenant named Charlie. And I want my attorney, Herman the Hermit, present. Plus, I get to keep the knife up my sleeve when this is all over. I like it too much to let you have it," Zandra says. "The other option is that I turn this rig around and you chase me. Your choice. What do you say?"

The officers don't take a liking to Zandra's soft bargain. They're trained in establishing control, not handing it over. They put about 20 feet between themselves and Zandra, then demand she ditch the knife and exit the vehicle. Their guns aren't out yet, but they look to be a microsecond away from making an appearance.

"If you shoot me, you'll never find Elle, dipshits. I suggest you take me up on my first offer. I'm willing to work with you here," Zandra says from the car.

The officers murmur a bit among themselves. The female officer radios in Zandra's demands.

"Charlie's waiting for you," the female officer says. "We'll see you to the police station. Don't try pulling anything, though."

Too late. I already have.

"Very good, officers," Zandra says. "Let's go."