He scrunched his nose. “Sabrina, what’s going on in your head? You read the letter. Terri predicted her own murder.”
I grimaced. “I’m not sure that she did. Besides, you’re seriously contradicting yourself here. Ever since this case began, you have been telling me that you don’t believe that Terri was really psychic. Now you have a sudden change of heart.”
“Maybe I was wrong. It sure looks like it.” David held his pointer finger up. “But since you mentioned opinions changing, what about you? Just yesterday, I seem to recall you trying to convince me that Terri was psychic.”
“I still believe that she was.”
David threw his arms up. “Now I’m more confused than ever.”
“I believe that Terri was psychic. What I’m not sure about is whether Terri was the one who wrote this letter.”
“Wait. Do you think someone forged the letter?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. But there’s something fishy about this handwriting.”
David glanced at the letter again. He squinted. “What makes you say that?”
“After I found her body and called you, there was about a fifteen-minute window where I was alone in her place. I looked around her living room for whatever pieces of evidence I could find. While I didn’t find any aside from the baseball bat, I did see a pad of paper on her desk with some notes scribbled on it. The handwriting on the pad looked similar to what I’m seeing on this letter, but there are some subtle differences.”
“What differences?”
“For example, how the I’s are dotted and T’s are crossed.”
“There’s one way to know for sure,” David said. He turned to a deputy that was sitting a few desks away. “Mitchell, did you bag up a notepad at the scene?”
“I can check,” Deputy Mitchell replied.
“Do that. And send this letter over to the lab. They should be able to pull some fingerprints from it.”
Deputy Mitchell got up from his desk, grabbed the evidence bag, and headed over to the crime lab.
David glanced at me. “We’ll find out pretty soon if your theory is right.”
“In the meantime, what do you want to do while we’re waiting for results to come back from the crime lab?” I asked.
“My instincts are telling me that another discussion with Rick Lutz is in order.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
David and I got a much different reception from Rick when we arrived at his mattress emporium. The minute the mattress salesman spotted us coming through the front door, he bolted toward us, clearly wanting to shoo us away.
“Oh no you don’t. Turn around and get right back in your car,” Rick said. “You two are not welcome here.”
David pulled out his police badge and gave him a stern look. “This badge says otherwise.”
“Just because you’re with the police doesn’t give you the right to harass me,” Rick said.
David scoffed. “If you think this is harassment, then you have a lot to learn. This is just two investigators questioning a murder suspect.”
“Stop calling me a suspect. I didn’t murder anyone.”
“That is still yet to be determined, but things are looking considerably worse for you than they did the last time we spoke.”
Rick’s eyebrows knitted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ll enlighten you.”
“Why don’t you just leave instead?”
David shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. At least until we get our questions answered.”
“I’ve already answered your questions.”
“We have some new ones.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t have any new answers,” Rick said. “I have already told you everything I know, which is nothing.”
“We’ll see about that. Mr. Lutz, would it surprise you to learn that your estranged wife predicted her murder?”
“If she predicted her murder, then why wasn’t she able to prevent it?”
“Maybe she tried,” David said.
“And maybe her killer just overpowered her,” I added.
Rick shrugged. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
“Terri made another prediction,” David said.
“About what?”
“About who killed her.”
Rick stared into David’s eyes. The mattress salesman then backed away. “Now hold on a minute. Are you saying—?”
“Terri predicted that you’d be the one to kill her,” David replied.
Rick scoffed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
Rick nodded. “Yes. First of all, where did you even hear about this so-called prediction?”
“A letter from your estranged wife arrived at the police station this morning. It was postmarked the day she died. In the letter, she singled you out as her killer,” David said.
“Come on. You can’t seriously pin your case on a psychic’s prediction.”
I shook my head. “She wasn’t just any psychic. You were the one who told us that Terri had the gift.”
“She got it wrong this time,” Rick replied.
“Oh, I see how it is. You had no problem believing that Terri had a gift until she made a prediction that incriminated you. How convenient.”
“Don’t twist my words. Just because she had a gift didn’t mean that she was always right. For example, in this case, she was dead wrong.”
“You’re right about her being dead. I’m not quite as convinced that she was wrong,” David said.
“I didn’t have anything to do with her death.”
“So you’re saying she was gifted enough to predict her own death but not psychic enough to be able to identify her killer?”
“For the last time, I didn’t kill her.”
“Mr. Lutz, look at this situation from our perspective. Why would Terri have taken the time to write us a letter and mail it to us unless she was sure?” David asked.
“Maybe she just wanted me to take the fall. After all, we were in the middle of a divorce.”
“You say that, but if she knew she was going to die, she must have also realized that this would be the last thing she would ever write. Do you really think she would be spiteful enough to point the finger of blame at you if you weren’t really guilty?” David asked.
“You didn’t know her like I did. Our divorce made her crazy. Nothing that woman did would surprise me,” Rick said.
“Maybe your divorce made you just as crazy.”
Rick shook his head. “No—”
“Mr. Lutz, your wife was killed with a baseball bat. Coincidentally, you’re only the suspect in the group who plays baseball. Now we get a letter from your wife naming you as the killer. Meanwhile, your only defense is a flimsy alibi that you have no one to corroborate.”
“That’s it. We’re done.”
“No, we’re not.”
Rick shot David a glare. “I only have two things to say to you. The first thing is that I didn’t kill Terri.”
“And the second thing is?” David asked.
“That I’m not saying another word without a lawyer present,” Rick replied.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Under normal circumstances, David probably would have arrested Rick—or at least brought him into the police station to detain him. But with the previous doubt that I had cast over whether Terri had actually written the letter, David decided to wait until he heard back from the crime lab before he made another move.
Unfortunately, even after having put a rush order on the letter, no results were available until the following day. David ended up calling me when I was in the middle of my work shift at Daley Buzz. I turned to my mother behind the counter, notified her that I was going to take a ten-minute break, then headed outside to take David’s call.
Unfortunately, when I heard the dispirited tone of David’s voice on the other end of the line, I got a terrible feeling in my gut.
“Captain Tomlinson brought in a handwriting expert to analyze the letter from Terri and compare it to the notes that were found at her house,” David said.
“And?” I asked.
“According to the expert, the letter and the notes were written by different people.”
“Which means that Terri didn’t write the letter.”
“That’s what the expert believes,” David said.
My eyes lit up. “So I was right.”
“You were.”
“You don’t sound very happy about that.”
“Because I’m not. Don’t get me wrong. Usually, I love it when you’re right, but in this instance, the fact that the letter wasn’t written by Terri just means that this case became a lot harder to solve.”
I sighed. “It does weaken the case against Rick.”
“Not just that. It also means that any of the suspects could have written that letter.”
“Anyone except Rick, you mean? Why would Rick forge a letter that incriminated himself?”
“You’re right. Although that still leaves a number of people who could have written that letter.”
“Speaking of the letter, what about fingerprints?” I asked. “Surely the crime lab was able to pull a print from the letter or the envelope it was sent in.”
“That’s what you’d think, but the crime lab told me they were both clean.”
I scrunched my nose. “How could that be? They weren’t able to pull one print?”
“Nope. Not from Terri, or anyone else, for that matter.”
I bit the corner of my lip. “There’s something very strange about that. Who writes a letter and mails it off without leaving a single print?”
“Someone who wears gloves the entire time in order to hide their identity.”
“Exactly. The same kind of person who would murder Terri with a baseball bat and have the foresight to make sure there were no prints on the weapon when they left it at the scene of the crime.”
“So you think the letter was written by Terri’s killer?” David asked.
“I do. And I also think that person put in a lot of work to point the finger of blame at Rick,” I said.
“It almost worked, too.”
“Yeah, but almost doesn’t cut it. You and I need to just keep thinking. I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time before the killer slips up,” I said.
“I sure hope you’re right,” David replied.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A few hours later, when my work shift ended, I left the coffee shop and spotted a familiar but unfriendly face while I walked toward my car.
Melissa Wilcox and I did not have the best history. She used to work for Andrew Stewart’s chocolate shop. When Andrew was killed, Melissa became a suspect in his murder. That made spotting her right now less than ideal.
If she was anything like Jake Williamson, who had also been a suspect in that case, Melissa could still be holding a grudge. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. Who wanted to be suspected of murder?
At the same time, given the fact that Melissa had been having an affair with Andrew Stewart that had turned sour, I had felt completely justified in suspecting her of murder. It just turned out that she happened to be innocent of the crime. Whether she would be able to look at things from my perspective was yet to be determined.
With the odds stacked heavily in favor of an imminent confrontation, I normally would have tried avoiding a conversation with her. Instead, when I spotted who she was with, I headed directly toward her.
Who was she with exactly? The doorman who had denied David entry into the all-male, invitation-only meeting that had been held at the old banquet hall on Treasure Cove Lane a few months back.
I had not spotted that brawny doorman again since that night. So for the doorman to be standing with Melissa on the sidewalk right then piqued my curiosity.
Even more, Melissa did not just appear to be friends with the muscle-bound gentleman. There were some seriously flirtatious gestures being exchanged.
I headed directly toward them and plastered a big smile on my face.
“Melissa,” I said.
Melissa glanced my way and gave me a disapproving stare. She didn’t even try to hide her displeasure.
“What do you want?” she asked.
I put the most sympathetic face on that I could. “I know you probably aren’t happy to see me—”
Melissa scoffed. “There’s an understatement. You’re the last person I want to talk to.” She glanced at the brawny man. “William, let’s go.”
I called to her as she turned to walk away. “I just want to say that I’m sorry.”
Melissa stopped in her tracks.
“I wish that things had gone down differently between us,” I said.
Melissa turned back to me. “So what? You expect me to just accept your apology? You accused me of murder.”
“I regret how contentious things got. That wasn’t what I intended—”
“You can’t change what happened. It’s done, and no apology is going to fix it.”
She was holding a serious grudge against me. So much so that she refused to see things from my perspective.
“I think you’re forgetting something. I wasn’t the only one to accuse you of murder. But I was the one who proved that you didn’t commit the crime. It is thanks to me that the real killer is behind bars.”
“So what? Are you asking me to thank you?” Melissa replied.
I shook my head. “No. Like I just told you. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
She stared me down. “Fine. You’ve said your piece. We’re done here.”
I glanced at the brawny man. “Wait. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend here?”
She turned her back to me. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
I held my hand out to the man. “William, is it?”
The man looked allergic to smiling. He turned to Melissa. “We really need to be going.”
“What’s the hurry?” I asked.
Melissa was quick with a comeback. “We’re running late as it is.”
“All right. Well, I’ll see you around, then,” I replied.
Not surprisingly, Melissa did not respond to my statement. Instead, she quietly walked away with William.
Rather than following them, I hung back at a safe distance, all the while keeping my eyes on them. Melissa and William quickly made their way into a black coupe that was parked at the side of the road.
Before the car drove away, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse, loaded the camera feature, and snapped a quick photo of the license plate of the car.
From there, I texted the photo to David with a caption that read: Just spotted the doorman from the banquet hall meeting a few months ago. His first name is William. This is his license plate.
I had tried my best to get information about the brawny man’s identity in conversation. Since that had failed, I would have to rely on other means to get the information that I wanted.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Fifteen minutes later, just as I was pulling into my driveway at home, I got a call from my boyfriend.
“Were you able to run that plate already?” I asked.
“That’s the beauty of being a detective. It gets you surprisingly fast results,” David replied.
“Remind me to take you to the DMV with me next time I have to renew my registration.”
“That sounds like a fun date,” David deadpanned.
“A real blast, all right. Dinner and a movie is overrated, anyway,” I joked.
He chuckled.
“So enough with the suspense. Give me the rundown on the license plate I gave you.”
“The man’s name is William Bolton. He’s forty-five, lives on Edgewood Drive, and has a clean police record.”
“Is that all you’ve got?”
“No. I also did an Internet search on him.”
“And?” I asked.
“Apparently, he run
s an import-export business,” David said.
“That’s awfully vague,” I replied.
“You think that’s vague? You should see the company’s website. It’s just a logo, a mailing address, and a phone number.”
“Wait. That’s it?”
“Crazy, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah. What about social media?”
“As far as I can tell, Mr. Bolton isn’t on social media.”
I squinted. “I wonder what kinds of things his company imports and exports.”
“Probably a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I have found that people who work in the shipping industry are not fans of providing specifics.”
“Yeah. Because that’s not suspicious.”
“It’s not exactly surprising. So much of this guy’s life is clouded in mystery. Why shouldn’t that extend to his profession?” David asked.
“Were you able to find out anything else about him?” I replied.
“No. That’s it,” David replied.
“Sounds like you have some digging to do.”
“I certainly do, but I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I just got a call from the deputy who was assigned to keep tabs on Erin Baxter.”
“And?” I asked.
“The deputy spotted Erin kissing someone very interesting,” David replied.
“As in?”
“Kenneth Franklin.”
My eyes widened. “The man who confirmed her alibi?”
“You got it,” David replied.
I got a faraway look in my eyes. “It makes you wonder if he and Erin really were together at the time of the murder or if he just decided to cover for his girlfriend.”
“That’s exactly what I plan on asking him. The deputy has detained both of them at Erin’s house for questioning.”
I switched my car into reverse. “Don’t start without me.”
Chapter Thirty
So much for relaxing at home. After getting off the phone with David, I didn’t even get out of my car. Instead, I pulled back out of my driveway and darted over to Erin Baxter’s house. When I arrived, I was immediately thankful that the police deputy had detained Erin and Kenneth separately. That meant that the couple couldn’t team up against David and me.
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