The surveillance videos would have to wait until the morning. I was beat. I traipsed up the stairs and down the hall to my room, where I passed out on the bed.
* * *
Rain pattered against the windows in my bedroom. The alarm clock read six a.m. I tried to fall back asleep, but sleep was not my friend. Tiptoeing to the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee, figuring Frank and Geri would’ve also wanted some when they woke.
Finding a mug in the cabinet, I poured myself some coffee and sat at the kitchen table contemplating whether I should watch surveillance footage or listen to wiretaps. We hadn’t yet listened to Cynthia’s phone conversations.
If I left right away, I could’ve made it to Coral Beach in time to see Brittany get on the school bus and follow Pamela to work. But, Pamela was probably out of work on bereavement leave. I wondered if Brittany was going to school.
Would collecting DNA from the two of them put us any closer to solving Archie’s murder? I wasn’t convinced. I had a nagging feeling we weren’t on the right track. What evidence did Freddy have so far? A woman on a videotape whose face can’t be seen. An unusual ring that may or may not be connected. An autopsy report where a forensic expert could testify that the killer was left-handed. And a whole lot of suspects that were ruled out. It wasn’t much. Maybe the forensic expert would be enough to convince a jury I was innocent since I was right-handed. Not before my reputation was ruined. Not before I lost my job. Not before making it difficult to find another job.
Until that moment, I hadn’t really thought about what it meant for me to be hiding—mainly that I was probably jobless. Even if my name was cleared, I wouldn’t have had a good explanation about why I hadn’t called in to work for days. They wouldn’t have cared that I was trying to solve the case instead of turning myself in. I rubbed my face. My life was capsized and I was desperate to right it.
“I thought I smelled coffee.” Frank was dressed in a blue robe with gray jogging shorts and one of those wife-beater tanks underneath. He shuffled into the kitchen with his slippers.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I’m usually up early. You looked deep in thought.”
“Yeah. I was wondering if I should listen to more wiretaps, review videos, or if I should help Chelsey collect DNA.”
“Now I know Freddy doesn’t want you wandering around getting yourself caught. As much as you might want to see that pretty little Chelsey…she can wait.”
“Chelsey was convinced last night that Cynthia Sterling was the killer. Did you get a chance to listen to her wiretaps?”
Frank shook his head. “We can tackle that today.”
“I was curious about her daughter, but I haven’t been able to find any information about her. Do you think you can find her name? All I know is that it was Tina or Tara. I thought it was possibly Tina Liara.”
“I can work on that today too. Looks like we got our work cut out for us.”
I nodded.
Geri lumbered into the kitchen. “My knee is killing me today.”
“I’d be happy to make breakfast this morning, Geri.” It wasn’t much, but it was something I could do to make her life easier.
“You don’t have to. That old man right there is perfectly capable of making breakfast.” She pointed to Frank.
“Who you calling old?” Frank feigned anger.
Geri snapped at him. “Really? Do you really think you’re not old?”
Frank moved toward the refrigerator and removed an eighteen-pack of eggs, butter, milk, and cheese. I filled a mug with coffee for Geri. Frank whipped up cheese omelets while I made toast.
Half-way through breakfast, Freddy called Frank.
“Uh huh. Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah. Okay. No? Hmph. Hold on.” Frank handed the phone to me.
“Hey Bryce. I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is we are narrowing things down. The bad news is that the DNA samples Chelsey collected weren’t a match for the blood found on the ring. I’m expecting Chelsey to drop off DNA from Cynthia Sterling any minute. Hopefully we’ll get a hit. We also hope to get Pamela and Brittany’s DNA to check.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
“Stay put. Help Frank.”
“Understood.”
“I’m hoping to wrap things up soon—a day or two. Hopefully what we’ve collected is enough.”
“Are you as convinced that Cynthia did this as Chelsey is?”
“Time will tell, Brother. Time will tell.”
“Alright. Keep me posted.”
“Ten-four.”
“Don’t worry, Bryce.” Geri patted my arm. “These things have a way of working themselves out.”
I wondered what she meant by that. Had she been accused of a crime she didn’t commit once upon a time? Had she known someone who was accused of murder? Maybe it was just something someone said when they didn’t know what else to say.
When the food was gone, I made a pit stop in the bathroom. I took out my phone and called Chelsey. “Hey.”
“Hey, Bryce. How are you holding up?”
“Not bad. How about you?”
“I’m good.”
“Where are you?”
“On my way to Freddy’s to drop off Cynthia’s DNA. Why does your phone sound like there’s an echo?”
I didn’t want to tell Chelsey I called her while I sat on the toilet. “I don’t know. Do you want any help today?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Did Freddy tell you the DNA you collected from Lake, Martha, and Drew didn’t come back as a match?”
“Yeah, he texted me.”
I scratched my chin. “And you’re convinced Cynthia is the killer?”
“I’m seventy-five percent convinced.”
“What’s the other twenty-five percent telling you?”
“That it can’t be so easy.”
“Maybe it is.”
“If it’s Cynthia, then we solved a crime in less than a week. A crime that the police may not have solved. You might’ve been in jail and the killer might’ve never been found.”
“True. So if not Cynthia, then who?” I scratched my head.
“Pamela? Brittany?”
“Could be anyone. It could even be Geri.” I reached for the toilet paper.
“Huh. That would be interesting. Although I can’t really picture her limping in and stabbing someone. Maybe I could picture her stabbing a slab of beef.” Chelsey laughed.
“I could definitely picture Geri stabbing a slab of beef. I wonder if she was too short to be the killer.”
“Maybe. I don’t think I asked about the angle of the knife and the height of the perp. What if she was a killer all along and no one knew?” It sounded like Chelsey was seriously contemplating Geri being the murderer.
I thought about how Geri was a good cook. “She certainly knows her way around a knife.”
“Wait a minute—could we be on to something?”
“Chelsey! Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not Geri.”
“How do you know? I’m not being ridiculous. What if it was her? It would explain why she believed you weren’t a killer—because she knew who the real killer was—her!”
“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. How did she know Archie? What would be her motive?”
“Maybe she had an affair with Archie years ago…she might be one of Archie’s many lovers.”
I rolled my eyes. “I seriously doubt it. She’s been married to Frank for longer than I was born. If that was the case, Frank would’ve probably killed him long ago, and made the body disappear. You know those Italians. Cement shoes and all. He has about ten relatives that were in law enforcement. They probably would’ve helped him hide the body.”
“If you say so, Stereotyper.”
There was an awkward silence.
I changed the subject, but maybe it wasn’t a great idea on my part. “If things were different, if I wasn’t in this situation, and you were
available, I would’ve liked to take you somewhere special and talk.”
“Talk? About what?”
“Us.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.”
I sighed. “Someday, Chelsey, we are going to sit down and talk.”
“Um. Okay?”
“Let me know how your recon mission goes today.”
“I will. Are you in the bathroom? Tell me you did not just flush a toilet in my ear.”
I laughed. “See you soon.”
We hung up. I missed Chelsey. Tremendously. I couldn’t get her out of my head. What I didn’t understand was why she acted clueless when I said I wanted us to talk. We kissed; we had some kind of a connection. We needed to figure out what that was. And I needed to know if she wanted to figure it out with me. If she didn’t have the same feelings, I’d turn and walk away, but one way or the other, I needed to know.
Moments later, I met Frank in his cyber basement and we got to work. He listened to audio while I watched video. An hour later, I completed watching footage. I saw Carl, Drew, and Solar leave before Archie and I did, but didn’t find the elusive woman with the ring. I took over listening to Cynthia’s phone calls while Frank dug up information on Cynthia’s daughter. An hour after that, we took a break. I couldn’t stand listening to one more Mary Kay spiel—Cynthia’s part-time job. Guessing by those wiretaps, Cynthia was no killer.
Chapter 25
Chelsey
Bryce called me early in the morning. I was already on my way to Freddy’s to drop off Cynthia’s DNA when he called. Our conversation was…strange. It was surprising to me that he wanted to talk. Do guys ever want to talk? I thought that was a woman thing. Kris hadn’t called me back. I really wanted that closure with Kris before Bryce and I had “a talk.”
Under different circumstances, I would’ve worn my heart on my sleeve, jumped into Bryce’s arms, and told him I wanted to be with him. But, I didn’t think that romance was a good thing to concentrate on until after his case was solved.
And Kris—I didn’t get him. I was starting to wish I hadn’t met him. Maybe Bryce and I would’ve gotten together long ago if I had never dated Kris. Maybe I would’ve been at that retirement party with Bryce. Maybe if I was there, Bryce wouldn’t have gone to the after-party. Maybe if we were together, Bryce wouldn’t have been drugged. All the maybes in the world wouldn’t get Bryce out of this mess.
When I hung up with Bryce, Geri was on my mind. Could there be some strange reason Geri was involved? It was a totally crazy idea, right? I shook off the thoughts about Geri. After all, I had a good feeling Cynthia was involved. Stepping down on the pedal, I sped to Freddy’s. He needed to get that DNA analyzed. It was Friday and I didn’t want to wait until Monday to get the lab report back.
Thirty seconds later, I dashed into Freddy’s office with the DNA. He took it from me and left for the lab. He said they offered to do a rush job so long as he could get them the DNA by nine.
My next stop was a pharmacy to buy some rubber gloves. I wasn’t sure how I’d get the DNA from Pamela and Brittany but rubber gloves would’ve made it easier to handle items containing DNA instead of what I had been doing. I needed to be a more professional private investigator if I wanted to prove my worth and keep my job. So, I bought the large box which contained one hundred gloves. If Freddy fired me, they could double as cleaning gloves.
With my new gloves in tow, I took off for Pamela’s house. I parked in the same spot at the deli across the street from her house. The lights were out. I wondered if I was too late. Maybe they had already left the house for the day.
My phone rang. I looked at the Caller-ID and smiled.
“Hi Mommy!”
“Mandy! I miss you so much!”
“I miss you too, Mommy!”
“Are you coming home on Sunday?”
“Yeah. What day is it?”
“Friday.”
“When is Sunday?”
“Two days, sweetie. Two more sleeps and you’ll be coming home!”
“I miss home.”
“I miss you! And Snickers misses you.”
“I miss Snicurs.”
“Where is your…Randy?” I still couldn’t bring myself to call him her dad. Sperm donor was more like it, but I wasn’t going to say that to a three-year-old.
“Here, Mommy.” Mandy handed the phone to Randy.
“Hello, Beautiful.”
I mumbled an obscenity under my breath.
“What was that? Your phone is breaking up.”
“Hi Randy. How is Mandy doing?”
“She’s great, she’s having fun. She’s just fine. No need to worry.”
“If you say so.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring her home Sunday, as planned. And see, I’ve called you every day as promised.”
“Are you trying to feign being a responsible adult?”
“Chelsey, I promise you, I’ve changed. I’ve come to see what an idiot I’ve been.” Randy made me wonder what he was up to. The Randy I remember would’ve never admitted he was an idiot. Did he want something from me?
“I’m at work, Randy, I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.”
“You can count on it.”
After he disconnected, I felt a lump in my throat. I never knew I could miss someone so much. That little girl brought such a light into my life and without her…my world felt dim.
Turning my attention back to Pamela’s house, I studied it for changes. Lights on or off, blinds or windows opened or closed. There was still no sign of life.
After shoving a few gloves in my purse, I got out of the car and walked over to the house. I didn’t think I had anything to lose. It was a shame I didn’t have a condolence basket. Maybe I could’ve gotten in their house under the guise that my parents sent them a basket. Since my parents were friends with Archie and Pamela, I thought Pamela would’ve let me in. On the other hand, my face was plastered all over the news earlier in the week as an accomplice to Bryce, so maybe not. Especially if Pamela wasn’t the killer. She probably thought Bryce was the real killer. Maybe it was a bad idea to knock, but I knocked anyway.
Luckily, no one answered the door. I went around to the side of the house and found a garbage can. I snapped on a pair of gloves, removed the lid, and ripped open the bag inside. I moved aside some wrappers and papers. Ah ha! I found something. Fun dip. I hadn’t known they still made the stuff. It was half-eaten with the candy stick that you lick still inside. If I had to take a wild guess, I would’ve guessed Brittany ate the Fun Dip. Could it have been one of her friends? Or Pamela? Sure, but I placed the Fun Dip into a plastic bag and sealed it anyway.
I rummaged through the garbage more and came up with some dental floss. I was sure glad that I had the plastic gloves on. The germs skeeved me. I gagged, but managed not to vomit. Since I wasn’t one to floss my teeth when I was young, I hoped the floss belonged to Pamela. With the floss bagged and sealed, I hustled back to my car.
My next destination was back to the office. Freddy wasn’t there, but I left the new DNA on his desk. I wondered if he was waiting at the lab for Cynthia’s DNA to be processed or if he was off investigating another lead.
I felt bad I wasn’t able to get Pamela’s and Brittany’s DNA sooner, but I didn’t believe either of them were to blame for Archie’s death. I couldn’t be sure I even had the correct DNA for them, but I could try again if no matches were made.
Sitting quietly in the office, I considered my next move. I could go get Snickers from my parents and head home or I could go see Bryce. I decided against both, and chose to visit Bonnie at work instead.
Taking the causeway over the bridge to Bonnie’s office, I took a deep breath and exhaled. I felt a strange sense of relief. I had a feeling Freddy had enough evidence to make sure Bryce wasn’t put in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Not that Bryce was out of the woods yet. I was sure the court cases would take years, that there could be a
ppeals, and Bryce still needed to hire a good criminal attorney.
* * *
Coral Beach’s municipal building was miniscule, which is typical for a small shore community. It was located mid-block on Main Street. I swung into the parking lot and parked in the visitor’s spot.
The building looked more like a private home than an office building. A ranch on steroids, as I called it, since it was situated atop supports meant to keep the floodwaters out. I climbed up the stairs to the decorative glass doors and then proceeded to the Clerk’s Office.
Dira was seated close to the public window.
“Hi Dira. Is Bonnie in?”
Dira buzzed the door to the office, which I presumed was an invitation to enter. Dira pointed to Bonnie’s office door. A woman of very few words. Yup, that was Dira.
I peered around the corner and saw that the Village Administrator, Vin, was seated inside Bonnie’s office. Bonnie lifted a finger, telling me to wait a minute. I glanced around the familiar office that was once mine. A new Tax Assessor and a new Tax Collector sat in their respective offices. Mostly everything was the same, except for the people.
I recalled the first time I met Bryce. It was in that very office. I remembered his deep voice, his reassuring smile and how nerdy he would dress. I also remembered the first time I saw him dress “normal.” How he would glance at me. How we would laugh. He went out of his way to make me feel comfortable since I was the new clerk in town. I sighed.
Dira was called into the Tax Collector’s office. I had almost forgotten her position worked for the clerk, assessor and collector.
Tired of standing, I plopped myself into the chair next to Dira’s desk. I glanced at her things. A clock telling me it was eleven a.m. An array of papers. The same old computer that had been there before. A framed photo of her and an older woman that looked a little like her.
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