Trapped By Revenge: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  Yikes! I’d told Dimples I’d help him if he wanted, but that was all. So what she’d said wasn’t exactly true. Plus, if the murderer was out there reading the paper, he’d think I was involved as well. This could be bad. And I didn’t think Uncle Joey would like it either. Why had I ever talked to Billie Jo Payne?

  My phone rang, and I jerked in surprise. Maybe it was Uncle Joey with some news. Nope, it was the police department instead. I hoped I wasn’t in trouble with Dimples.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hey Shelby,” Dimples greeted me, but his voice didn’t have the usual friendly tone I was used to. “I was just wondering if you could come down to the station. I have a few questions about the case I’d like to ask.”

  “Um…sure,” I agreed. “Do you have any leads?”

  “A few,” he hedged. “I’ll explain more when you get here.”

  “Okay. I can be there in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Good. See you then.” He disconnected and I set down my phone with a gnawing feeling that I’d missed something. But I shook it off, knowing it was probably just nerves and the article in the paper that caused it. I hurried to get ready and left a half hour later.

  After parking at the precinct, I put my honorary police ID badge around my neck and hustled in to find Dimples. He’d been watching for me and stood to greet me, but his usual open attitude was missing, along with his dimples.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. He glanced at all the people staring at us and motioned toward a door. “Let’s talk in here where we can have some privacy.” He led me into an office, thinking how hard this was going to be, and hating that he had to question me at all. But he had no choice and wasn’t about to let anyone else do it. Not when they’d treat me like a criminal. He knew I wasn’t involved. I couldn’t be.

  “What…what’s going on?” I asked. My stomach clenched with foreboding. “I’m getting some bad vibes here.”

  “Please, sit down,” he motioned to a small sofa, and took a seat across from me. He sat on the edge of his seat and hunched toward me. All at once, I realized this was the room where they told people bad news and questioned family members of dead victims.

  My heart skipped a beat. “Did somebody die?” I couldn’t imagine what was going on. What did he think I was involved in?

  “No.” Dimples pursed his lips. He could see how scared I was and it broke his heart. “We found the gun that killed Killpack.”

  “That’s good,” I said, a little relieved. Dimples’ lips thinned even more and my stomach tightened. “Isn’t it?” Then I knew what he was going to say before he said it, and my heart skipped a beat.

  “It’s registered to your husband.”

  “What? That’s crazy.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “And I double-checked it myself, just to make sure. I’m sorry, but it definitely belongs to Chris.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense. I mean we have a gun, but Chris keeps it locked in a safe in our closet at home. I’m sure it’s still there. You must be wrong. There’s got to be a mistake. Besides, Chris would never use it to kill anyone.”

  “We have the gun, Shelby,” Dimples said. “It’s definitely the murder weapon. It’s registered to Chris and has his fingerprints…and your fingerprints all over it.”

  “No. That’s not possible. It can’t be right.” I caught Dimples’ gaze, pleading with him to give me an explanation that made sense. “If it’s true, then someone must have stolen it. They must have broken into our house and into the safe! I need to go home and check right now.” Thoughts of someone breaking into my house filled me with horror.

  I jumped to my feet, but Dimples caught my arm. “Slow down Shelby. Just take a deep breath and let’s figure this out.” He maneuvered me back onto the couch, but kept his hand on my arm. “I’m just as confused as you are. I don’t know what’s going on, but…I know you didn’t do it.”

  “What?” I shrugged his hand off me. “The police think I killed him?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “But…I’m a suspect?” He nodded, and my heart sank.

  “Yes. But we’re not charging you with anything.” He’d already checked with Chris’ secretary, and learned that Chris had an airtight alibi. That left me as their only lead, but until they had more, they weren’t going to formally charge me with anything.

  “Okay. That’s good. I think.” All the strength left me. I felt a lump in my throat and tears gathering in my eyes.

  “You have to understand that you were there…at the approximate time of death. The murder weapon belongs to your husband and you had access to it. So yeah, it makes you a suspect, but there’s no motive, and no reason why you would kill him.”

  “Okay. That’s true.” I blinked, and a few tears spilled down my cheeks.

  “We’re going through Killpack’s files,” Dimples added. “So hopefully, we’ll find more information on who might have had a motive to kill him.”

  “Then you’ve got to let me help you,” I said, wiping my face. “It’s the only way I can clear my name. With my premonitions, I’m sure I can pick something up.”

  “No.” Dimples shook his head. “I’m sorry Shelby, but as a suspect, I can’t let you anywhere near this investigation. I’m really sorry. But don’t worry…I’ll do everything I can for you. I know you didn’t do this.”

  “Where did they find the gun?”

  “It was inside the garbage receptacle of the women’s restroom, in a shopping bag.” He was thinking the bag also contained a pair of cloth gloves and a rag, but didn’t think I needed to know that. He also had a feeling in his gut that I’d been set up, but he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do this to me. He knew I’d worked for Joe “The Knife” Manetto at one point, but he didn’t think I did anymore. Would “The Knife” set me up for something? Especially if I’d refused to work for him? It was probably a lead they’d have to check out, and he might as well ask me a few questions about it now.

  “I know you used to work for Thrasher Development,” he began. “Do you still do any work for them?”

  “Why? Do you think they set me up?” I couldn’t tell him the truth and figured it was better to answer his question with a question he was actually thinking about.

  “Well, not really, but I can’t think of anyone else with a reason to do it.”

  “I see what you mean,” I answered. “But I doubt they had anything to do with it.”

  “Probably not, but I’m going to call their office and talk to them anyway.” He was thinking that I’d better bring my lawyer husband in on this pretty fast.

  “That’s fine,” I answered.

  “And you might want to think about anyone you’ve worked for lately who would want to frame you for murder.”

  My stomach lurched. Who would do this to me? I never would have believed it, if not for the gun. A cold chill ran down my spine to know someone had gone to a lot of trouble to break into my house just to steal the gun and set me up. “All right, I’ll think about it.”

  “Don’t worry…we’ll get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, please let me know if you think of anything that could help me clear your name.”

  “Okay,” I said. My brain seemed to have shut down, and I couldn’t think straight anymore. I even felt a little cross-eyed and my throat hurt from holding back tears. “Am I free to go?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Just don’t leave town.”

  I glanced at him, incredulous that he’d say that. “Seriously?”

  His face turned red and he glanced at the floor. “Sorry, but it’s standard procedure.”

  “Fine. I promise not to leave town.” That got me mad, but in a way I was glad, because now I didn’t feel so scared. I swallowed my fear and let the anger that was building in me come to the surface. He hadn’t arrested me, so that meant I was free to figure this out. The only problem with that was I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I knew one thing for sure: whoever had
done this to me would be sorry.

  I stood to leave, but Dimples hesitated at the door. “I know you’ll probably want to look into this yourself. But I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Not going to happen,” I said, with a glint of steel in my eyes so he’d know I meant it.

  “Then at least call me if you find out something, and let me handle it. I don’t want you to get hurt, and this needs to be done by the book, or there’s no telling what might happen. Here’s my cell number.” He wrote it on the back of his card and handed it to me, knowing he was breaking rules to help me out, but he trusted my premonitions and didn’t want me to end up like Killpack.

  “Thanks.” I took the card and slipped it into my purse.

  “Good. There’s one more thing…” He flushed with guilt, hating that he had to ask me to surrender my honorary badge until I was cleared. After telling me I was a murder suspect, this was like pouring salt into an open wound. He was afraid I’d start to cry again, and it was breaking him up inside.

  “Here,” I said, taking the badge off my neck. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to cry. Just promise me you’ll find the real killer. Okay?” I slipped the badge into his hands. “When this is over I want it back.”

  His breath caught. It was uncanny how I did that, almost like I’d read his mind. He took the badge and glanced into my eyes. I felt his relief that I wasn’t falling apart, and underneath that, I sensed his determination to help me however he could. His smile came next, and his dimples magically appeared in all their glory. I couldn’t help smiling back. Just knowing he was on my side gave me the courage to walk out of there with my head up and my shoulders back.

  Dimples escorted me out. As I walked through the station, several people glanced my way. They all knew what was going on and felt bad that I was the prime suspect in the case. They were all thinking there was no way I could kill anyone, and they wanted to help prove my innocence. The police chief even nodded at me as I passed his door. He was thinking that I’d better be innocent because he hated seeing his people upset.

  It helped me feel better that most everyone was pulling for me, and I hoped they didn’t change their minds any time soon. I caught a flash of irritation and disgust sent my way, and glanced around the room until I found the person it came from. I hadn’t seen his face here before, and I quickly pulled my gaze away before he caught me staring.

  “Who’s that new guy over there by the window?” I quietly asked Dimples. “The one with the short, fuzzy hair.”

  Dimples caught sight of him and nodded. “That’s Detective Bates. He transferred here from another precinct uptown.”

  “How long ago was that?” I asked.

  “Just last week. Why?” Dimples frowned at me, wondering if I’d had a premonition about him.

  “I’ve just never seen him before,” I answered. I didn’t add that he made me nervous since he was thinking I had everyone fooled if they thought I wasn’t capable of murder. In his mind anyone was capable of killing…all it took was the right circumstances to pull the trigger. The way things looked around here, he might be the only objective thinker in the room.

  He was especially worried about Harris being in charge of the investigation since he had a personal relationship with me. There was no way he could be objective. How the chief overlooked that was a mystery to him, but he’d be damned if he let that get in the way of a murder investigation. Now all he had to do was get assigned to the case.

  My knees went a little weak. This was terrible. I glanced at Dimples and whispered. “Don’t let Detective Bates anywhere near my investigation, okay? I don’t trust him.”

  Dimples’ brows came together and his eyes narrowed. “Why? Do you know him?”

  “No. I can’t explain it, but I don’t think he likes me very much.” This was bad. Now was not the time to have an enemy on the police force.

  Dimples glanced at Bates and noticed the scowl on his face. He frowned and wondered what Bates’ problem was. “I see what you mean. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks.”

  I left the precinct with one goal on my mind and that was to get home and check the safe. I just had to look inside and see that the gun was missing with my own eyes before I could process any of this. Imagining a murderer walking around in my house raised goose bumps on my arms. It left me feeling vulnerable and angry. It was bad enough that I was a target, but if anything happened to Chris or my kids, I’d never forgive myself.

  Did I have any enemies? A few came to mind, but they were mostly dead. Kate was happily running her own organization in Seattle, but she was the only living enemy I could think of. No one in Florida from my time there would set this up. That meant there had to be a connection to Uncle Joey. He’d sent me to visit Killpack. He probably had lots of enemies. But why would one of his enemies target me? Why not just go after Uncle Joey?

  How was I ever going to get to the bottom of this? With a sinking heart, I realized I had no leads and no clue where to start. I pulled into the garage and fumbled with the key to the door. Finally, it slid in, but did this mean that I needed to change all my locks? Had the killer stolen a key to my house? I dashed to my bedroom and threw open the closet doors. The small safe sat undisturbed in the corner by Chris’ hiking boots. I knew the combination because it was our wedding date. I twisted the knob to the correct numbers and pulled the door open.

  My breath caught. Everything but the gun was there. Even five hundred dollars of emergency cash Chris had put inside. I sat back on my heels, a stab of panic rising in my chest. Only a professional who’d been paid lots of money would leave the cash. My heart sped up and my breath came in little gasps. The shock of finding the gun gone meant it was real, and my mouth went dry with panic.

  I tried to swallow and grabbed my phone. Chris picked up after the second ring. “Shelby,” he spoke softly. “I’m kind of busy here. Can I call you back in a little bit?”

  “No,” I moaned. “This is an emergency. I need to talk to you now.”

  “Okay…just a second.” I heard a muffled sound and Chris explaining that he had to take the call. A door closed and he came back on. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m a suspect in Killpack’s murder!” The panic I’d been holding back threatened to overwhelm me.

  “What? That’s crazy. They can’t prove…”

  “The gun,” I interrupted. “It’s missing from the safe. I just got home and opened the safe and it’s gone.”

  “Wait…what does the gun…? Start from the beginning and explain what’s happened.”

  I took a few deep, even breaths until I could talk without falling apart. “Dimples had me come down to the station. He said it was the murder weapon. They found it in the restroom. It makes me a suspect. I didn’t believe him, but when I got home, I checked the safe and the gun really is gone.” I gasped for breath. “This is terrible!”

  “Calm down, sweetheart. We’ll figure it out. What else did Dimples say?”

  “Not much. He made me give my badge back though.” A sob escaped my trembling lips. Of all the things to cry about, that was probably the silliest, but right now, it hurt the most.

  “This is what I’m going to do,” Chris said, his voice calm and even. “I’ll call Dimples and find out the details. You’re just a suspect, right? They haven’t charged you with anything?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, good. After I talk with him, I’ll know better what we need to do. In the meantime, I don’t want you to go anywhere. Just stay home until I find out what’s going on. I’ll call you back.”

  “Okay.” We disconnected and I heaved a huge sigh of relief, thankful to have Chris handling this. I’d never been so grateful he was a lawyer in my life. The panic let up a little, and I could finally breathe right again.

  It hit me that I needed to call Uncle Joey and let him know Dimples was going to call him with questions about me. We needed to get our stories straight. Plus, this had to be all his fault and I needed to know what
he planned to do about it. His secretary, Jackie, answered on the first ring. After exchanging pleasantries, I asked for Uncle Joey.

  “Shelby,” he answered. “I was expecting your call. How are you holding up?”

  “Not so good,” I said. “Wait…do you already know?”

  “Yes, I heard just a few minutes ago.”

  “So you know about the gun and everything?” I asked. “Even that someone broke into my house and stole it?”

  “That’s what my source told me,” he said. “You were obviously setup. I just don’t know by whom.”

  “Well, you’d better figure it out, because I don’t want to go to jail for this.”

  “Don’t worry. I told you I take care of my own.” He sounded a little bit upset, but it didn’t bother me like it usually did.

  “Who would do this to me?” I asked. “Do you think it has something to do with this judge person?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’m checking it out. In the meantime, make sure you tell your husband what’s going on. You’ll need a good attorney.”

  “Right,” I agreed. Why did hearing that from him make me feel worse?

  “Your detective will be here in a few minutes to question me. I need to know what you told him so we’ve got our stories straight.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s why I called.” I pulled my scattered thoughts together. “He was wondering if maybe you set me up, and if I still worked for you. What are you going to tell him?”

  “I would never set you up, Shelby,” he said firmly.

  “That’s good,” I answered.

  “So I’ll just tell him the truth. That you occasionally do some investigative work for me, but I haven’t called you for a couple of months. I have to tell him that much because I’ve paid you, and if they subpoena my financial records, they’ll see it.”

  “Oh, okay. I didn’t think about that. I didn’t exactly tell Dimples that I really did any work for you, so he might think I lied.”