“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 st
are. 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 runs 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.
These interviews were going to be hard enough already. I knew how important it was to keep an even keel when trying to get the truth out of a suspect, so I took a few deep breaths to make sure I was as calm as could be before the questioning began.
David decided that it would be best to start with Kenneth first. That was fine by me. The angular-faced fifty-three-year-old looked like he was in bad shape as David and I approached him. The police deputy had detained Kenneth in the back of his squad car, so it was no surprise that Kenneth was so on edge.
“Mr. Franklin, you have some serious explaining to do,” David said.
“Why am I in the back of a police car? I didn’t do anything wrong,” Kenneth replied.
“Kenneth, it has been a very long day. I’m warning you, don’t mess with me.”
Kenneth shook his head. “I’m not messing with you. I don’t even know what this is about.”
“Either you’re playing dumb, or you are dumb. Whichever it is, I don’t have the patience for it. Do you have any idea how serious of a crime it is to lie to a police officer?” David asked.
Kenneth trembled. “Wait. You think I lied to you?”
“I think you have been very selective about what have and haven’t told me. Now I’m going to remind you how important it is to tell the truth. Your freedom depends on it.”
He squinted. “Freedom?”
David nodded. “If I catch you lying to me, don’t think I’ll hesitate to throw you in jail.”
His muscles tensed up. “But I haven’t lied to you.”
David moved uncomfortably close to him and stared him down. “That may be the case, but I also know that you haven’t been entirely truthful with me. For example, the first time we spoke, you didn’t disclose that you and Erin were in a relationship.”
“You didn’t ask.”
&nb
sp; David’s eyes lit up with rage. “I warned you not to play games with me. You didn’t think that was a relevant detail? Go ahead, keep messing with me. See where it gets you.”
Kenneth gulped.
David continued. “Now where were you between ten and eleven o’clock on Friday?”
“I already told you. I was with Erin.”
“You’re sticking with that story?”
“It’s not a story. It’s the truth.”
“So you and Erin were alone at your place having a listing meeting?”
Kenneth nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s a shame. It would have really helped your case if there was another person with you.”
“You said you wanted the truth,” Kenneth replied.
“And if you were dragged into court, you’d be willing to testify under oath that Erin was with you until eleven that night?”
He hesitated then nodded. “Yes.”
I scrunched my nose. “If you two really had a listing meeting, there should be paperwork and contracts, not to mention an actual real estate listing to show for it.” I held out my phone. “I looked up your house. The Internet has no record of your place being for sale.”
“That’s because it was a meeting about whether to list my house, not to put up the actual listing. It was all very preliminary,” Kenneth replied.
“Are you still planning on selling your place?” I asked.
Kenneth nodded. “Yes.”
David’s eyebrows arched. “Are you going to move into Erin’s place?”
“That’s none of your business,” Kenneth said.
“Your girlfriend is a murder suspect, and you are the only one who can verify her alibi,” David replied. “This is very much my business.”
Kenneth broke eye contact.
“Answer the question,” David said. “Are you going to move into Erin’s place?”
“I’m not quite sure,” Kenneth replied.
“But you’ve talked about it?” I asked.
“It has been brought up,” Kenneth said.
David stared deep into his eyes. “You must really care about Erin.”
Caramels With A Side Of Murder Page 10