“Awesome! What are those then?” she asked, nodding toward the pile of files on his desk.
He sucked the red jelly and white flaky powder off of his fingers before touching anything. “These are all the files on the cheerleaders, your boy, Robert Lee, and the school faculty. I had them faxed over as soon as I got here.”
“Holy shit! They all have records?” Carma asked.
Harold laughed at her shock. “No, well, not all of them. I haven’t had a chance to go through all of them yet. Most are just mandatory school records.”
“Oh,” she said, relieved. “Wait, you said not all. Does that mean you found something?”
Carma quickly handed him a napkin for his sticky doughnut fingers so he didn’t contaminate their clean suspect files. After picking up a couple of the files, Harold walked over to the dry erase board beside their desks. But before he started to write anything down, he turned to Carma and said, “So, as I said earlier, these are mostly files that you asked me for today. I called the school as soon as I got off the phone with you and had them fax over the student files of all the cheerleaders and Robert Lee. Then I had them send all the personnel files of all the teachers at the high school. Then I kinda went on a hunch and had them send me one more personnel file.” As he said that, he saw the look of pure curiosity on her face, so he continued. “Now I’m sure that someone will find what I say ‘politically incorrect’ or something, but I don’t really give a shit. The other personnel file I had the school send me belongs to the janitor because I have always thought that janitors were a little shady and somewhat scary.” As the words left his mouth, he saw Carma raise her eyebrows at him, but before she could say anything he exclaimed, “Carma, you know I’m right! Janitors are a creepy bunch! Freddy Krugger is a prime example. Anyway, as it turns out, our Mr. Williams was arrested in 1997 for breaking and entering.”
Carma, unable to hide her surprise, asked, “Do you mean to tell me that the school board, along with the high school principal, has given a felon known for B&E, unlimited access to the school?”
“Well, not really,” Harold said.
“What do you mean?” Carma demanded.
“Evidently, Mr. Williams was a minor at the time of his arrest, so upon completion of his probation, the judge ordered his record to be expunged.”
Confused, Carma said, “Well, obviously the school is aware of the incident because it’s in his records, and if his record is clean, how did they find out? And how did he still get the job?”
“The best guess I can make of it is that Mr. Eugene Williams is one of the most honest sons of bitches out there. The only way the school would’ve found out is if he told them, because as far as his criminal record goes, well, he doesn’t have one,” Harold stated. “As for why they hired him, well, you would have to ask them that.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just seems strange to me. Okay, so what about the others?” Carma asked him.
“The coach, Steven Grady. He was arrested for assault in 2007,” he said, writing his name on the dry erase board along with Eugene Williams.
“I remember that!” Carma exclaimed. “Coach Grady had been teaching for like twenty years when the ‘incident’ took place, so his twenty years of being a model teacher, plus the fact he argued that he was defending himself, made it kind of difficult for them to fire him.”
Harold looked at his file and flipped through the pages. “He argued self-defense and must have had one hell of an argument, because even though he was convicted, he only received a slap on the wrist.”
“Coach Grady is tough, but he’s a good man with a good reputation in the community,” Carma said.
“Yeah, but a record is a record. Sometimes good people snap and do things they normally wouldn’t do,” Harold argued.
“Are their addresses in those files?”
“Yep, Eugene lives in New Bern now and the coach lives close by in Merritt,” he answered.
“Awesome! And you said you got that address for Robert Lee?”
“Yep, here you go,” he said, reaching across the desk and handing her the small piece of paper. “Hey what’s that?” he asked, pointing to the diary.
“It’s umm… a diary,” Carma told him.
He narrowed his eyes. “And whose diary is it?”
Carma had learned throughout the years that she was not the most talented when it came to lying to people she cared about. So in trying to answer Harold’s question with an untrue statement, her answer ended up coming out sounding like a question. “Mine?” she answered, knowing she was busted as soon as the word left her mouth.
He cocked his head to the side.
“Fine! It’s Melissa’s,” she admitted.
He crossed his arms on his desk as he stared at her. “And why do you have her diary?”
“Because I wanted to look at it more. There is a lot of private stuff in here, stuff she never told anyone about. I’m hoping it will help us,” she said. “To be honest, Harold, it could really be considered evidence, so it’s not like it’s illegal for me to have it. But if I log it in as evidence, her parents, her mother in particular, will know we have it and want to read it and I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why?” Harold asked her.
“Because I am sure that there’re things in here that Melissa’s parents don’t know about, and things that Melissa herself wouldn’t be proud of. Her parents should remember her as they do now, their beautiful, popular All-American girl, and I’m afraid if they read this it will tarnish their memories. I’ll log it in if I have to!” Carma exclaimed.
Harold, changing the subject, said, “So you believe there’s something in that diary that will help us catch her killer?”
“Yes, I do,” Carma replied.
“Have you found anything useful yet?”
“No, not much, but I haven’t read that far, either.” After glancing at her watch, Carma stuck the diary in her desk drawer and locked it. Turning to Harold she said, “Come on. Let’s go pay a visit to Mr. Lee while they bring in Eugene Williams and Coach Grady.”
Carma and Harold followed the address to Robert Lee’s home on the outskirts of Oriental in a somewhat new subdivision called River Dunes. Once they passed through the security gate into the subdivision, which was impressive enough, they stared at the large houses as they slowly drove through the winding roads.
“There are some nice houses around here,” Harold said.
“Like they need more monster houses in this town, but that’s Oriental for you. Most people who live here aren’t locals. Hell, I don’t even think locals can afford to live here anymore. You’ll come to know a lot of people in this part of the county as snowbirds.”
“Snowbirds?”
“Yeah. Most of them are from up north and have flown south for our mild winters and then go back home in the spring.”
Harold laughed despite himself. “Snowbirds. I get it now. That’s pretty good.”
They fell into a silence as they watched the scenery around them.
“I think that’s it right up there,” Harold said, breaking the awkward silence and pointing to a mailbox on their right.
Carma pulled into the circular driveway and looked out through the windshield at the massive white beach-style house with its three floors, designed with such unique angles and a wide lazy porch. She had seen the house many times from across the river whenever she crossed over the bridge into the quaint city of Oriental, but never up that close. She sighed at the sight of it and what it stood for.
Hearing her sigh but not taking his eyes off the house, Harold asked, “What is it?”
“Money,” Carma said, shaking her head.
Finally averting his stare from the beautiful house, he looked at her, confused. “What?”
“They have money, which means they’re going to be a pain in my ass,” she explains.
“Oh. Well, I got that as soon as we came up to that gate back there,” Harold told her.
“Come on. Let’s get this over with already. I’ll do the talking,” Carma said.
They got out of the car and made their way up the cobblestone walkway onto the wide porch. Harold gave two good knocks and they both turned around to look at their surroundings. Carma eyed her old car looking very much out of place in the driveway. She had only had two cars since becoming a detective five years ago and the latest one wasn’t even new then. The first was a pale blue Buick, which thankfully got rammed one day while on a chase about three years ago. She had had the black Crown Victoria ever since and prayed almost daily for another unforeseen accident. They had been through a lot together, her and her car, but it wouldn’t hurt her feelings if got rammed as well, or at the very least, if it were traded in for a newer model, especially when she saw police officers and state troopers cruising in fancy Chargers and Mustangs.
Just then the door swung open. They both spun around at the same time and came face to face with a petite woman with fashionably short blonde hair and big blue eyes.
“Hi! Mrs. Lee?” Carma asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Carma Jones and this is my partner, Detective Harold Green. We are investigating Melissa Cooley’s death.”
“Oh my, it’s a real pity. She was such a sweet girl,” Mrs. Lee said, showing genuine remorse.
“Mrs. Lee, is your son Robert here?” Carma asked.
Her sweet southern bell persona changed as she glared at Carma through slanted eyes. “Why do you want to speak with Robbie?”
Carma noticed the attitude change and decided to go ahead and defuse the situation now rather than later. “We just need to speak with him about Melissa. I assure you, it’s purely procedural and quite necessary since we were told they were dating.”
“Yes, they were.” She looked back and forth between them and decided to stand aside to let them in, directing them into the stuffy formal sitting room, or what was known to rich folk as a parlor. “Please, do sit down. I’ll go fetch Robbie.”
As soon as Mrs. Lee left the room, Harold had a seat on the fancy cream-colored couch while Carma wandered around the room looking at pictures on the walls. She stopped and looked at one of the family, probably the most up-to-date, with fake smiles staring back at her. She tilted her head and looked at the picture harder.
“Shit!” Carma said, a little louder than she meant to.
“Pardon me?” Mrs. Lee asked from the doorway.
Carma spun around at the sound of Mrs. Lee’s voice, Robert standing beside her with a wide boyish grin plastered across his face, clearly amused.
“Oh, sorry. I was just admiring your photos,” Carma answered quickly, somewhat embarrassed.
Mrs. Lee and Robert each took a seat in a set of wingback chairs across from the couch and stared between Harold and Carma’s horrified face. Carma took her little notepad and pen out of her back pocket and taking her time, slowly followed suit and took a seat beside Harold on the couch.
Carma, while studying Mrs. Lee’s cold proper exterior, realized that it was actually quite easy to see how attractive she once was. Long before becoming the wife of a lawyer-turned-Superior Court Judge, and before becoming the mother of a spoiled child like Robert and prior to the everyday stresses of life. It seemed that Mrs. Lee was a lot more than just attractive, she was beautiful. Over the years, however, stress and worry may have caused her to lose a lot of her beauty, but Carma was still able to see that she has been blessed with beautiful eyes, facial features and a body that men would drool over, even at her age, and she secretly wondered if she had work done to maintain it. Looking at her and noticing the cold disregard to her son, it didn’t take Carma long to figure out that the men in her life were the source, and her son was most likely responsible for most, if not all, of her stress. Carma averted her eyes away from Mrs. Lee, now focusing more on Robert, and immediately decided that she did not care for his “laid-back” appearance. His girlfriend was just killed and he still looked devilish and cocky.
Robert did not try and hide the way he was staring at Carma, decadently looking her body up and down. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as she watched him and when their eyes met, he smiled at her with a look she had gotten many times from men like him. Not only was he younger than most of the men who gave her attention, but as much as she hated to admit it, he was also arguably cuter than most of her male admirers. It was easy to see why Melissa liked him and why they were a couple to be envied. Robert, with his long lean athletic build, shaggy blonde hair and dark blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled, was your typical All-American boy. A perfect fit for the All-American girl, especially since neither were what they appeared to be. He was extremely good-looking, and he knew it.
Yeah, I don’t like this kid at all, Carma thought to herself.
Over the years, Carma had realized how attractive she was. She was not oblivious to the fact that most men could not help but to stare at her perfectly kept body. More often than not, especially in her line of work, Carma often used her looks as a weapon. Now, after seeing the way Robert was reacting to her, she felt it was the perfect time for her to use her “weapon” on him. She kept eye contact with him while she leaned back in her chair and crossed her long lean legs and smiled back at him, her green eyes gleaming like a silly school girl.
Harold choked on air when he noticed her posture and quickly turned back to the Lee’s with wide eyes, opting to stay silent and allow Carma to do her thing.
“Robert, I hear you and Melissa Cooley were dating?”
“Yeah, we dated,” he said nonchalantly.
“For how long?” she asked.
“Since the beginning of our junior year,” he said, thinking back.
“So, like a year?” she asked him.
“Yeah, actually now that I’m thinking about it, next month would be exactly one year.”
“Wow, that’s a pretty long time for kids your age. Were you going to go to college in New York next year with her, too?”
“I have a few offers, but I haven’t settled on one yet,” Robert brags.
“It must have stirred up some arguments, you not going with her,” Carma pressed.
“It did at first, but she understood. Besides, we’re only in high school. It’s not like we were going to get married or anything,” he answered with his smug smile.
“Oh, so you two were having problems?”
“I didn’t say that. A good word to describe our relationship would be convenient. I play football, and because I practice every day after school and have games on weekends, football takes up a lot of my time. Most girls get all whiny about not spending enough time with them, but not Missy. She loved cheerleading as much as I love football and stayed just as busy with it as I do with football. Of course, it also didn’t hurt that she was the hottest girl in school and had the best rack on the squad,” he told her, and once again that smug smile played on his lips.
“Robbie!” Mrs. Lee scolded, but he was undeterred.
“It was an easy relationship. She was cool about stuff and we got along pretty good,” he continued, as if she never said anything.
“What with you being the quarterback and her being the captain of the cheerleading squad. Correct me if I’m wrong, but those are pretty high stations in high school, right?”
“Maybe so, but I don’t do drama,” he told her matter-of-factly.
“That’s important,” Carma said, leaning forward and running her pen down her neck while casually looking at her notebook, knowing all of his attention was now glued to her deep cleavage. “Robert, can you tell me who would have wanted to hurt Melissa?”
“Missy is hot. All of the guys wanted her and all of the girls wanted to be her. Enemies get made over those things.”
“So, she had enemies?” Carma asked.
“Not that I am aware of, but girls are catty, especially high school girls. One day they’re best friends, then the next day they hate each other. Truthfully, it’s the things they do wh
en they’re on the outs that’s mind blowing,” he said, shaking his head with a mischievous smile.
“Would you like to elaborate?”
“Sorry, Detective. I don’t kiss and tell. I will tell you this, though. I have found that it can be quite enjoyable to be used by two best friends who are trying to get back at each other by making the other one jealous. Missy is super sweet. Don’t get me wrong, but she also knew how and when to be an über-bitch, especially when pushed.”
“So, I was told that ya’ll were supposed to meet up last night.”
“Yeah,” he said, fidgeting with the arm of the chair. An action Carma didn’t miss.
“When and where were you supposed to meet?”
“There wasn’t really a set time. She had practice so she said she’d stop by my house afterwards.”
“And you never got curious or worried when she didn’t show?”
“Nah, like I said, there wasn’t a set time and I ended up falling asleep watching something on the television. I didn’t even know what happened until I went to school this morning.”
Carma closed her notepad, giving Harold the cue that she was done. They both stood up. “Thank you for your time,” Harold said to Robert, breaking his silence, and then turned to Mrs. Lee. “Mrs. Lee, you have a very beautiful home.”
She smiled for the first time since opening the door. “Thank you and please call me Stephanie.”
“Will do, Stephanie.”
They remained quiet until they were in the security of her car when Harold finally turned to Carma and asked, “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem all that broken up that his girlfriend has just been killed. Did you catch what he said about what her friends do when they’re on the outs? Not just friends, but best friends?”
“Yeah, I thought that was strange, too. But there’s no telling. Teenage couples are so full of drama! Are you thinking he was talking about a certain one of her friends in particular?”
“I do, and I think we may need to have another chat with Kristen Jenkins. Sounds to me like there is something going on between her and our young Mr. Lee.”
Too Close to Home (The Forensic Files) Page 5