I went to offer my sympathy, but the detective got control of his emotions and finished his point.
“Here’s the thing—just because I couldn’t admit that my partner was guilty didn’t make it any less true,” Detective Wright said.
His story pulled at my heart strings. What a wrenching tale. It was nice to see the human side of him. That being said, it didn’t change what was occurring here.
“I’m very sorry about that.”
“So am I,” he said.
“With all due respect, this is different,” I replied.
“Ms. Hadley, examine the facts. Your friend’s motive is simple. She was sleeping with her boss. When she broke it off with him, he fired her. In a fit of rage, she killed him.”
We’d reached a stalemate. That was all-too-clear now.
Seeing how I wasn’t getting anywhere with him, continuing the conversation would be akin to smashing my head into a brick wall. I only had two choices—I could move on, or stay there and grow more frustrated. To me, the choice was clear.
Chapter Five
I had solved a number of cases in the past, but none was as murky as this one. Typically, when detective acted so quickly, they had done sloppy or haphazard detective work. I would often find that they had been in such a hurry to close the case that I’d be able to find a flaw in logic or poke a hole in their theory.
This time was different. Sure, the anonymous call was suspicious, but the rest of Detective Wright’s case work was pretty solid. Unfortunately for Sophie, she was found near the body with the murder weapon present at the scene. As much as it pained me to admit, I could see why the police had arrested her.
Even so, my mind kept going back to that anonymous call. What if the killer saw Sophie going to approach her boss and put the anonymous call in to frame her for the crime?
It was a possibility. If you were the killer, what better way to deflect from yourself than to cast the blame on someone else?
There was another possibility. One that was far more difficult to come to grips with. What if the detective was right? What if Sophie was a murderer? I hated to even entertain the thought.
Detective Wright planted the theory into my brain, and I just couldn’t seem to get it out. Grr. Go away already. I wished that I could dismiss him outright, but he wasn’t irrational nor was he acting the least bit insane. Still, that didn’t mean that I wanted to believe him.
I could feel my body tense up. My breaths shortened. This case was really getting to me. I stepped outside to get some air.
Could Sophie really have done this? When it came to the old Sophie, the one I had grown up with in Florida, the answer was most certainly no. This new one that was jaded and full of bitterness, I wasn’t so sure about.
Unfortunately, the fresh air wasn’t enough to soothe me. Probably because the air wasn’t exactly very fresh. Los Angeles had practically coined the term “smog.”
Being alone with my thoughts wasn’t enough. I needed to hear a familiar voice.
I called my boyfriend back home and described the whole situation to him. As expected, he responded with empathy.
“I’m so sorry,” Daniel Jacobsen said over the phone.
While I liked the sympathy, that wouldn’t solve this case.
I groaned. “This is a real mess.”
Daniel reached out further. “If I can do anything to help, you know I will.”
If only. Unfortunately, from three time zones away, there was only so much he could do.
I acknowledged his offer anyway. “Thanks.”
He must have heard something troubling in my voice because he immediately mentioned it.
“Hope, you seem more frazzled than usual. Do you want to talk about it?”
Actually, it was the one thing I didn’t want to speak of. It was bad enough thinking it, no less saying it out loud.
“Not really,” I replied.
It turned out I didn’t have to say the words. Daniel was already thinking them. He floated the question in the air.
“Are you worried that Sophie could get convicted, or that she should get convicted?”
His question just lingered, thickening the air like a dense block of Florida humidity.
That was the thing about dating Daniel. Sure, I had good investigative instincts. But when it came to being able to read my emotions, no one did it better than my boyfriend. He knew what I had been thinking just by the tone of my voice. It was almost impossible to hide things from him.
“That’s the problem. I’m not sure about this one. I want to believe Sophie’s innocent, but I just can’t tell.”
“It’s hard to be objective when confronted with such a subjective situation.”
He brought up a good point. When investigating a case, objectivity was crucial. Solving a case was about analyzing information and discerning the truth impartially. Emotions had no place in an endeavor like this. Yet, no matter what I did, I couldn’t help but be emotional when it came to my friend.
“Don’t remind me how subjective this situation is,” I said.
“As hard as it is, you have to find a way to detach your emotions. The truth requires it.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“No one ever said it would be easy. Why do you think there are so few detectives in the world?”
“I just wish the detective assigned to this case was willing to follow up on the other leads.”
“That detective may not be willing to do it, but I know one who will. Why don’t I call your brother? I’ll bet he’d be happy to do some research on the suspects.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said.
“Text me the names and when we get off the phone, I’ll ask him to do some digging.”
“Daniel, you’re the best.”
“Hold your praise. I haven’t done anything. Besides, your brother is going to be the one to do the work.”
I corrected him. “Trust me, you’ve done plenty. You’ve been there for me, just like you always are.”
“Of course. I love you. That’s why you have to take care of yourself. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
“Good luck.”
I sighed. “I’m going to need it.”
Chapter Six
When I walked back into the police department, an officer escorted me back to the cell block where Sophie greeted me with wide eyes.
“Were you able to talk some sense into the detective?” she asked.
Seeing how excited she was, I hated to be the bearer of bad news. Unfortunately, there was no good news to share. The question became, how to break the bad news to her?
I could have gotten truly bleak, but I decided to spare her the grim details. She was going through enough already. Besides, I had other things to tend to.
“I’m afraid not,” I replied.
The discouragement on her face was undeniable as she lowered her head. At that moment, I stayed away from discussing how long the odds were against her. She was panicked enough to begin with.
I had to try to mitigate the damage to keep her from losing her marbles. The small chance she did have of being exonerated hinged on me being able to get some information from her and I couldn’t very well do that if she folded like a tent in the wind.
I urged her to dig deep and find whatever strength she could muster. “Sophie, there’s no time to fall apart. If I’m going to help you, you need to help me first.”
She was shaking like a leaf now. I wished that I could hug her, but the best I could do was reach between the bars and take her hand.
She looked at the resolve on my face and took a deep breath.
“Okay. Just tell me what you need.”
“Tell me more about Kaitlin Doherty, Jack Sprague, and Henry Mankiewicz.”
“What do you want to know?”
“You said either of them could have put the anonymous call in. Why them?”
“Well,
with Kaitlin, it’s simple. She used to date Paul.”
My eyes opened wide. “Really?”
She nodded. “Oh, yeah. He pushed her aside when Paul and I began dating.”
“I’m sure she was angry about that.”
“Kaitlin was furious. She still is,” Sophie said.
“There’s a motive for you,” I replied.
“As a matter of fact, she hated both Paul and me.”
I moved on to the next possible suspect. “How about Jack Sprague? What’s his deal?”
“Jack and I used to date before I got together with Paul.”
“Let me guess, you broke up with him?”
“I sure did.”
“I’ll bet he didn’t take it well,” I said.
“He took it horribly, actually. To this day, he still calls me, desperate for us to get back together,” Sophie replied.
“Ah, nothing like a jilted ex.”
“I’ll say. Although, I made it clear to him that there’s no way we’re getting back together.”
“Maybe he figured if he can’t have you, no one can.”
“Maybe.”
“Or, that if you were going to break his heart, he’d break your heart by killing the man he thought you were dating.”
Sophie’s mind was racing. I could see the gears spinning in her head.
“I wouldn’t rule that out.”
Finally, I moved on to the third possible suspect. “You said one other name, Henry Mankiewicz. What’s his story?”
“He felt burned by the fact that Paul picked me for a promotion instead of him. He claimed I’d gotten promoted because of favoritism and not because of merit.” She hesitated. “He was wrong, by the way. I worked my tail off at that job.”
“You don’t have to convince me. It just matters that Henry thought the promotion was undeserved.”
“Oh, yeah. He figured that because he had worked there longer, he was a shoe-in for the promotion. In reality, Paul chose me because I had better ideas for the company.”
“A bitter employee is a fertile ground for a motive,” I said.
I let it all sink in. There were ample motives to go around. This case was suddenly not nearly as cut and dry as the detective had made it out to be.
“Is that it?” I asked.
She laughed. “Isn’t that enough?”
“When it comes to proving your innocence, I can’t ever have enough information.”
“I suppose you’re right. Unfortunately, that’s all I have.”
“I’ll have to make do with that.”
“Thanks again for doing this.”
“Of course. That’s what friends do. Now, it’s time to get to work.”
“Good luck,” Sophie said.
I held up my crossed fingers. “I’m going to need it.”
There was no doubt that I had my work cut out for me, and there was no time for delay. Given that, I got right down to sleuthing.
Chapter Seven
My first stop was the scene of the crime, Paul’s house. I was hoping that maybe the police had overlooked a key piece of evidence. It was a long shot, but it was worth taking, mostly because I could use any break I could get.
As I arrived at Paul’s house, I saw that I wasn’t alone. Unexpectedly, Kaitlin Doherty was laying down flowers at the end of Paul’s driveway like she was creating a makeshift memorial.
There was a solemn look in her brown eyes. She curled a stray lock of her wavy black hair behind her ear almost like a nervous habit as she breathed a deep sigh. Kaitlin wore a pair of jeans and a red, cardigan sweater, the sleeve of which she used to wipe a tear from her eye. Her athletic body was as tense as could be.
If she wasn’t a suspect, it would have seemed like a heartfelt gesture. Since she was Paul’s ex-girlfriend, thus giving her a motive for murder, her turning up at the scene was very peculiar. It was possible that she was truly remorseful over Paul’s death. At the same time, it was just as likely that she could have killed him and that she’d come back here because she was paranoid that she’d left a key piece of evidence behind.
Also, there was the issue of the flowers in her hand. To a casual onlooker, it looked like she was just mourning. To me, they looked like a good prop to use to cover her true intentions of returning to the scene while covering her tracks.
I made a concerted effort to sneak up on her. Suspects became guarded when they knew they were under the microscope, but if I could use the element of surprise to my advantage, perhaps I could squeeze some information out of her before she realized what was going on.
Despite my best efforts, Kaitlin caught sight of me out the corner of her eye. So much for that idea. I had to regroup in a hurry. As she turned my way, I was glad I was wearing flats. In prior confrontations with suspects in other cases, I would occasionally come across a runner. Catching up with a suspect while wearing heels was nearly impossible. Flats, on the other hand, made things much easier.
I was all ready for Kaitlin to take off when she surprised me. Defying all of my expectations, she stayed exactly where she was. By the looks of it, she wasn’t going anywhere. While that was refreshing, especially since I was in no mood to run, it was also perplexing.
Why didn’t she run? Was it because she had nothing to hide, or because she had nerves of steel? There was only one way to find out.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I was just paying my respects,” Kaitlin replied.
“Were you two close?”
I already knew the answer to that but wanted to hear how she’d reply. Would she admit that they used to date, or would she pretend that they were just friends?
Kaitlin was right up against the yellow police tape but was unfazed by both my question and the fact that she was lingering in front of a crime scene. She didn’t even take one step back.
If anything, she stepped towards me as she squinted her eyes in my direction. My first question hadn’t troubled her in the least. It was my follow up that drew her scrutiny.
“Who are you?” she asked.
I had a number of different ways to go with this. I could pretend that I was a friend of Paul’s and told her that I was here to pay my respects as well. That idea seemed dicey. Kaitlin used to date the man. If she saw right through my lie, it would sabotage any future efforts to get information from her.
My other option was to take the path of heavy resistance. That involved getting creative and flexible with the truth. I didn’t make a regular habit of lying, but in this case, if I was going to get anywhere, that seemed necessary.
I pulled out a police badge from my purse. Don’t worry. If she read the badge closely, she’d see that it said “Honorary Deputy.” That’s why I flashed it quickly so she wouldn’t give it a deep inspection.
Back home in Florida, having realized that my sleuthing career was going to continue whether he wanted it to or not, my brother Joe realized it was better to deputize me rather than to have me go rogue and chase down suspects by myself. I always kept the badge on me in case it came in handy. It turned out to be quite fortuitous that I did.
There was something about the power of the badge. It made much quicker headway than whatever long drawn out explanation I tried to come up with to explain my freelance sleuthing. That was true this time as well. The minute Kaitlin saw the badge, I had her full attention.
“My name is Hope Hadley. I’m investigating Paul’s murder.”
Much to my relief, she bought my story. Although, it didn’t quite have the effect that I had intended it to.
Kaitlin wasn’t tense in the least. That was practically unheard of. For a murder suspect to be so unmoved meant that she either had a killer poker face or had ice water running through her veins. Not only was she not bothered by the badge, but she almost looked relieved to see it.
“Good. I hope you find out who did this. They deserve to pay for their actions,” Kaitlin said.
Those were strong words from a murder suspect. Did s
he not realize she was a suspect? I was perplexed. It was time to clear some things up.
“I’m planning on making them pay,” I said.
Once again, she didn’t flinch at my statement. “Good.” She turned to the police tape. “It’s crazy, what happened to Paul. You never think something like this could happen to someone you know. Someone that…”
Kaitlin trailed off as her tongue became tied.
I waited to see if she was going to finish her sentence.
Finally, she got her nerves back and continued. “I just can’t believe this happened. It’s so terrible.”
I played along. “It really is. Do you have any idea who might have done this?”
One name immediately came to her mind.
“Sophie Paulson,” Kaitlin said.
My stomach sunk.
I was taken aback. “What?”
“Sophie Paulson,” she repeated.
“Why her?”
“She’s a bad woman.”
Kaitlin didn’t know that Sophie and I were friends. I had to keep that a secret in order to find out why Kaitlin disliked her so much.
“Maybe you’re just saying that because Sophie was dating Paul when you wished that he was still in love with you,” I said.
“That’s not true.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“First of all, because they weren’t dating anymore.”
“How did you know that?”
“Paul told me. He couldn’t believe how ungrateful she was. Neither can I. After all he did for her, for her to turn around and break his heart like that, it’s unfathomable,” Kaitlin said.
Kaitlin had it all wrong. She was giving me a completely different story than Sophie had. According to Sophie, Paul was the scumbag. It seemed like, with Kaitlin at least, he had tried to paint himself as a victim. Kaitlin clearly hadn’t heard that Paul had been sleeping around like crazy.
I wasn’t about to tell her. Right then, there was a more pressing question on my mind. One that seemed especially relevant.
Sweets, Suspects, and Women Sleuths Cozy Mystery Set Page 42