“It crossed my mind,” he answered and then took a sip from his cup.

I had seated myself across from him in my favorite chair, an antique rocker. Gazing thoughtfully into space, I gently nudged it into motion. I had been told more than once by my parents that as a child, whenever I was lost in thought, I would rock, rocking chair or not. I still did.

“I’m not going to lie to you Ben,” I finally said. “It does get to me that Ariel is the victim, and yes, she was a good friend even though we hadn’t seen one another for over a year.” I stopped the chair and leaned forward. “On the other hand, I have knowledge that might help to catch whoever did this. I think I demonstrated that last night.”

“I’ll give ya’ that,” he replied. “But what do you think you’re gonna find at the scene that wasn’t in the photos?”

“Hopefully something that will tell me if this guy is for real or just trying to make it look that way.”

“And that somethin’ would be?”

“I won’t know until I see it…or feel it,” I explained. “What I’m looking for might not be visible to the naked eye.”

“You mean like some kinda psychic thing? You know I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“I know, but I do, and if it gives you a solid lead, what does it matter?”

“Okay, tell me this.” He skipped past answering my question and proceeded into another of his own. “You ain’t lookin’ for revenge or somethin’ are you?”

“No. Not at all,” I answered with unabashed honesty. “There’s no need. What goes around comes around. He’ll get what’s coming to him whether I help you or not…Eventually.”

“Yeah, well that’s a pretty idealistic sentiment.”

“It comes with the religion.”

Ben grunted and stared thoughtfully into the depths of the mug held between his large hands. After a short period of suggestive silence, he looked up at me with deadly serious eyes. “Mind if I ask where ya’ were Wednesday evenin’?”