Trapped By Revenge: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  “No he won’t,” Uncle Joey assured me. “You haven’t worked for me all summer, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’ll be fine. You haven’t lied or held back any information. Now, tell me why he thinks I would set you up?”

  “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that part,” I said. “He just thought if I didn’t agree to work for you, that you might want to get even with me. Like you were out for revenge or something.”

  “Hmm…all right. Good to know. At least we know that’s not true.”

  “Yeah, right,” I agreed. “Except it kind of made me wonder what you would do if I told you I wouldn’t work for you anymore.” I cringed, hardly able to believe I’d dare ask.

  “Hmm…” Uncle Joey mused. “That’s an interesting thought. What do you think I’d say?”

  “Probably threaten to rip off my thumbs or something.” Crap! Did I really say that out loud? “Ha-ha, just kidding. You’d most likely want to negotiate with me. We’d try to come up with a mutually acceptable arrangement. Kind of like we already have.”

  “Yes, we do have an arrangement,” he said. “And I do pay you for your time…and then some.”

  “Right,” I agreed. “So…it all works out.” He didn’t say anything else and I hoped I wasn’t in too much trouble. Of course, I was already in trouble up to my eyeballs, so how much worse could it get?

  “Your detective friends are here. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He disconnected, leaving me feeling a bit unsettled. If I thought about it, I’d think I was upset with Uncle Joey and blaming him for the predicament I was in. I should tell him I was done working for him so that I didn’t have to worry about stuff like this happening to me. On the other hand, what if I needed his help? Now was not the time to alienate him. He had resources I could only guess at.

  But could I trust the police to find the real killer? How could I, when I knew someone was keeping Uncle Joey informed, and the new Detective was thinking I was guilty. If I actually got arrested would Uncle Joey abandon me as well? Could he trust me not to talk? He kept saying he took care of his own, but was there a threat in that too?

  Maybe I was looking at this all wrong. What I needed to do was take care of this myself. I couldn’t depend on Uncle Joey or the police to bail me out of this mess. No, the only sure way was my way. I could certainly glean what I could from them, but it was up to me to get to the bottom of it all. And I would start with Killpack. What was he working on that got him killed, and how was it connected to Uncle Joey? That was what I needed to find out.

  Chapter 5

  My phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. I glanced at the caller ID and groaned. It was Billie Payne. Had she heard the news? How did she get my private cell number? Probably the same way she got my address. It quit ringing, then started up again. Frustrated, I considered throwing my phone across the room, but then I thought of a better way to discourage her and answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Shelby, it’s Billie Payne. Did I catch you at a bad time?” She must have picked up on the sharpness in my voice.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact you did. I’m kind of having a bad day. What do you want?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. I heard that you were a suspect in Killpack’s murder, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because of the similarities to another case I’ve been working on. I’d rather not talk about it over the phone, but I have some information that you might find useful. Can we meet?”

  I sighed. Chris had wanted me to stay home until he knew what was going on, but if I was going to figure this out, I needed to follow all the leads I could get. Besides, if he needed to reach me, he could just call my cell phone. “Okay. But first you need to guarantee that everything I say is strictly confidential.”

  “Sure,” she answered.

  “And you need my permission for anything you print about me.”

  “Okay.”

  “All right,” I said, a little surprised that she’d agreed so readily. Did that mean she had a hidden agenda? Of course, what was I worried about? All I had to do was meet her in person and I’d know. Duh. “Where do you want to meet?”

  “It’s close to lunch. How about Paradise Bakery? There’s one close to the mall by your place.”

  “Okay, I’ll head over there in about five minutes.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  I had to refresh my make-up since I’d cried a little. But with some lipstick and blush, I looked lots better. Plus that “don’t mess with me” look in my eyes didn’t hurt either and I practiced it until I had it down pat.

  As I locked my door, I figured that I should get new locks for the whole house, and maybe a security system. Or a dog. I didn’t like yappy dogs much, but I could put up with it if I knew it would keep my house safe from thieving murderers.

  On the drive to lunch, I was impressed that Billie had found out so quickly that I was a suspect in Killpack’s murder. Then it hit me that if she knew, lots of other people would know, and before long, my name would be splashed all over the media as a suspect in a murder investigation. Soon, everyone in the world would know my name.

  How could I do this to Chris and my kids? What about my parents and my brother? They’d freak! And then there were all of my friends and the people I knew from my church and my kids’ school. This could ruin me! My heart rate doubled, and I started to get that tight, panicky feeling in my chest. I found it hard to breathe, and my hands started to shake.

  The parking lot was just ahead, and I managed to find a parking space and turn off the car without killing anyone. Grateful I’d made it in one piece, I lowered my head to the steering wheel and tried to catch my breath. I reasoned that lots of times people were suspects, but they were never charged with anything. People forgot all about them. That could happen to me, right? Plus, the police usually didn’t give out the name of a suspect until they made an arrest. So I was probably safe for now.

  I sat up and took a deep breath. All I had to do was figure out who the real killer was before it went any further. I could do that. I wasn’t like other people. That gave me a huge advantage over the killer. He’d learn soon enough that he’d picked the wrong person to mess with. I’d expose him for the sick murderer he was. I’d be off the hook, and he’d be going down.

  I checked my face in the rearview mirror. After pinching my cheeks, I got out of the car and headed inside. Billie waited just inside the door, and she greeted me with a smile, thinking that I looked a little pale. It couldn’t be easy being a suspect in a murder investigation, and she felt sorry for me. She also worried that what she had to tell me wasn’t going to make me feel any better.

  I almost turned around and left, but plastered a bright smile on my face instead. If she had anything to tell me that would help, I had to listen. Plus, I could make her promise to keep my name out of the paper, at least for now.

  We got in line and ordered sandwiches. I wasn’t hungry, so I knew I’d probably just end up taking it home, but that was all right. I snatched a bag of Cheetos at the cash register. Those I could eat anytime. We found a corner table and, after getting our drinks, settled in to eat.

  “So, how are you holding up?” she asked.

  “I think I’m still in shock. I can’t believe this is happening, and it doesn’t make any sense. How did you find out? Did Dimples tell you?”

  She smiled, loving that I called Harris Dimples. “Yes. I got it out of him, but only after promising that I wouldn’t go public with it. You’re safe from the press for now.”

  “That’s a relief. So what did you want to tell me?”

  “Same thing I told Dimples. There’s this other case that has some uncanny similarities to yours. The suspect claims he was set up, and his gun was found in the restroom of the building just like yours. He said someone stole it from his apartment.”

  “Hmm, well that part’s the same,” I said. �
�So who did he supposedly kill?”

  “His girlfriend. Her name was Rebecca Morris. He went to her office to try and talk her into going to dinner. She refused, saying she had too much work to do. He claims that when he left she was still alive. A member of the cleaning crew was on the floor vacuuming and saw him leave. A few minutes later when the guy went into her office, he found her lying on the floor in a pool of blood. She was still breathing, but died before the paramedics got there. A gun belonging to the suspect was found in the women’s restroom in the garbage can. But get this…it was in a plastic bag along with some cloth gloves and a rag.”

  That caught my attention, and my heart skipped a beat. “That’s how my gun was found, but how did you know?”

  “Dimples told me, but only after I told him about the case I’m working on. I specifically asked him if anything was found with the gun just to see if it matched. When it did, we were both a bit surprised, to tell you the truth.” She was thinking he also didn’t want her to tell anyone, especially not me, and that he had violated all kinds of rules when it slipped out. He could even lose his job over this.

  “I’ll bet,” I said. “So what happened to the suspect? Did they arrest him?”

  “His proximity to the victim at the time of death, along with the gun, gave them a reason to formally charge him with murder. It was a pretty shut-and-dry case. Fingerprints, DNA, everything matched. The prosecution even offered him a plea bargain so he could avoid the death penalty, but he claimed he was innocent and wouldn’t take it. The jury found him guilty and sentenced him to death.”

  I felt the blood drain from my head. “When did this happen?”

  “Not too long ago, but he’s scheduled for execution next week.”

  “Whoa, that’s fast. Don’t they have mountains of appeals and that sort of stuff to get through first?”

  “Normally…yes. But it looks like someone’s pulling strings here, and pushing it through the system. That’s why I got involved. With everything happening so fast and his claim of innocence, I was interested in interviewing him. Though, I have to admit, I was also thinking this could be my claim to fame. You know, maybe even a Pulitzer Prize? Now I’m starting to believe him. When I saw the similarities in your cases, I thought it couldn’t be a coincidence.”

  “So you think the same person is behind both murders.”

  “It sure looks that way.”

  “But what’s the connection?” I asked. “What do the girlfriend and Killpack have in common, and why were they killed?”

  “Good question,” she said. “I got his permission to look through his case files. Maybe you’d like to look at them too? Perhaps something will pop out at you.”

  “Yes. I’d like that. I’d also like to talk to him. What’s his name?”

  “Jim Porter,” she said. “Do you remember hearing of him?”

  “Oh yeah, the name sounds familiar. I think there was something in the paper just yesterday about his execution coming up.”

  She smiled proudly. “Yeah, that was my article. I’m going to visit him at the prison tomorrow morning. Do you want to come?”

  “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “Maybe with both of us working on this we can figure it out. I’ll call and make sure you can get in with me.” She was thinking that Jim’s time was running out and she could use a real pro like me. And even better, since my neck was on the line, she wouldn’t have to pay me a dime. “If you like, I can give you the files, and you can look them over tonight. That way if you have any questions you’ll be ready to ask him tomorrow.” She was hoping I could see something she might have missed.

  “If it weren’t for the gloves and rag found with the gun, I’d think you were just telling me this to get me to work for free,” I couldn’t help saying.

  Her eyes widened. I hadn’t missed a trick. Wow, I was really good at reading people. “I believe the similarities are worth checking out, and really…what have you got to lose?”

  “You’re right about that. Where are the files?”

  “In my car,” she answered.

  I followed her out and managed to get the boxes from her car into my trunk. She was thinking that she’d hate to be in my shoes, and couldn’t imagine how that felt. No wonder I hadn’t eaten anything and looked a little pale. She also knew that Dimples was pretty shook up about it too.

  “So what did you promise Dimples to get him to talk to you?” I asked.

  Her brows lifted in surprise. She hadn’t expected that. “I have to keep a lid on it. I can publish whatever I want about Jim, but you’re off limits.” She was a little surprised he even talked to her at all, but she could see that for me, Dimples was willing to do whatever it took. She understood that he really cared about me, and she’d be jealous if I wasn’t already married. Of course, that didn’t stop some people. But after meeting my husband, she knew there was nothing to worry about. Any woman who gave him up would have to have their head examined.

  That made me feel a little better about Billie, and after shutting my trunk, I smiled at her. “So what time is your appointment with Jim?”

  “Eleven-thirty,” she answered. “Since it’s on my way, I can swing by and pick you up if you like. About ten-thirty? That should give us plenty of time to get there, and we can discuss what you found on the way.”

  “Sure, I’ll be ready.” We said our goodbyes, and I jumped into my car, eager to get home. Now that I had something to do, I felt lots better. I had the files and a place to start. I checked my phone since I had silenced it while I was with Billie, and found that I had three messages.

  The first was from Chris, telling me to call him and that under no circumstances was I to talk to Dimples without him there, and why the hell didn’t I pick up? Oops. The next message was from Uncle Joey asking me if I could please come into the office, and that he might have a lead. The third message was from Ramos. He was sorry I was in this mess and wondered how I was holding up. He promised to help in any way he could and was already asking his contacts for information.

  I got a little misty-eyed that they all cared about me. Then I got a sinking feeling that if my phone records were ever subpoenaed, everyone would see my messages. Chris’ calls wouldn’t be suspect, but messages from Uncle Joey and Ramos could look bad. Did I need to get a new sim card or a burner phone? I should probably talk to Uncle Joey about that. He’d know what to do.

  I called Chris first. “Hi Honey,” I said. “Sorry I didn’t answer the phone.”

  “That’s okay. I was just worried about you. What’s going on?”

  “I might have a lead and I could use your help, but it’s probably something we should talk about in person. Can I tell you about it later?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  “What did you find out?” I asked.

  “Not much more than what you already told me, but at least Dimp…a…Harris was cooperative. Just don’t talk to him without me there, okay?”

  I sighed. “That may not be possible. I might need to ask him questions so I can find out what he knows without him knowing I’m finding out. That would be good, right? It wouldn’t hurt my case if you knew stuff that you might not know otherwise too. Plus, he told me to tell him if I had any leads so that he could check them out because he doesn’t want me to get into trouble. I don’t think you need to worry that he’ll use my words against me.”

  “He might not have any choice,” Chris said. “I know what you’re getting at, but you’re walking a fine line here, and so is he.”

  “I know,” I groaned. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”

  “Sure,” he said, but his voice didn’t sound like he believed it. “Listen, I’ve got a few things to finish up here, and then I’ll come home. Give me about an hour and a half.”

  “All right, I’ll see you then.”

  We disconnected, and I decided that with an hour and a half, I had plenty of time to see Uncle Joey, so I quickly punched in his number. When Jackie answered,
I told her to let him know I’d be at his office in a few minutes. As I drove to Thrasher Development, I was feeling lots better. Not only did I have a lead from Billie, but Uncle Joey had something as well. Things were looking up. Maybe this would work out after all.

  I made it to Thrasher Development in record time. Jackie greeted me with a sad smile, thinking how hard this must be on me. She could tell I’d been crying, and all the color in my cheeks and lips was gone. My eyes looked haunted with dark circles under them, and even my hair had lost its usual bounce. Feeling sorry for me, she wished she could give me a hug, but patted me on the shoulder instead and told me to go straight to Uncle Joey’s office.

  Wow, I must really look bad. As I walked down the hall, I pinched my cheeks and found my lip gloss. I quickly applied it, and then ran my fingers through my hair. Hoping I looked better, I knocked on the door and pushed it open. Uncle Joey sat behind his desk with the phone held to his ear. He motioned me in and finished up the call, while I took a seat in front of his desk. He set the phone down and looked me over, thinking I looked pretty good for a murder suspect.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but caught the gleam in his eyes and smiled instead.

  “That’s better,” he said. “I’m glad you could come in. I’m sure this has been a tough day for you, but I think I know where to start.” He rubbed his palms together like he was getting ready to do a job. “I’ve narrowed my search down to three judges. All you have to do is talk to them, and we’ll know who the right one is. Then we can go from there.”

  “What?” I couldn’t believe it. Three judges? This was worse than I thought. He really didn’t know who Killpack was reporting to. “How am I supposed to talk to them?”

  “I’m already working on that. It might take a few days to meet with them all, but I have a plan.” His plan involved playing a game of golf with one judge, and maybe a game of poker if he could arrange it with another. But the third judge was still up in the air. He knew the third judge was the church going type, so maybe I could catch him after a Sunday meeting.

  “But why would a judge kill Killpack?”