“Doesn’t tickle, does it?” Adam said. “I’ve heard you can kill someone doing that. Try to run and we’ll test that.”

“What do you want?” Cody wheezed.

“First, leave Savannah alone. She had nothing to do with your wife’s death. She’s here investigating a murder—that’s it. You just happen to be the prime suspect. So that’s the second thing I want you to do. Confess. Probably too much to ask for, though, so we’ll settle for you answering some questions.”

I stepped forward. “Let’s start at the top. What were you and Claire talking about behind the hardware store?”

“Go to hell, bitch,” he sneered.

I lit a fireball in his stomach. Just a little one, but after Adam’s kick, it was enough to set him screaming and writhing.

“He kicked you pretty hard, huh?” I said. “I think you need a doctor. The sooner we can get through this, the sooner you can get to an emergency ward. Now, let’s try that again. What were you and Claire—”

“A girl, okay? She wanted to talk to me about a girl who’d been at the commune.”

“Name?”

“Pammy or Tammy. Something like that.” Tamara—Claire’s friend.

“And what did you have to do with this girl?”

“Nothing. We talked a few times. I bought her some stuff. She paid me back.”

“With sex.”

He glared up at me. “No, with seashells. Yes, with sex.”

“And the stuff you bought was drugs.”

“No, candy—”

I ignited another internal fireball. He screamed. Writhed. Called me a whole lotta names.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said. “Just standing here trying to talk to you. But obviously you’re hurt, so let’s say you cut the bullshit. If you gave her drugs for sex, say that, and this will go a lot faster.”

He confirmed it. Also confirmed that Tamara had been at the commune trying to get clean. Only she’d ended up whoring herself for a fix.

That conversation seemed to be the only connection between Claire and Cody. Still, it didn’t rule out murder. If she’d known he was dealing dope to Tamara, that was a life-ruining kind of accusation. Of course, he wasn’t going to admit that.

I tried to get more from Cody. Even used the persuasion spell. It failed, though, and I fell back on the tried-and-true internal fireball until Adam stepped in, motioning for me to cast a privacy spell so we could talk without Cody hearing.

“That’s enough,” he said. “He’s told you all he’s going to—”

“I can get more.”

“Sure you can. Keep torturing him and, eventually, he’ll admit he killed Ginny, Brandi, Claire, Michael, Tamara, Tiffany, and Jimmy Hoffa. You need more evidence, Savannah, or after a certain point, you can’t trust anything he says.”