by Zena Oliver
“You don’t have to say another word,” Keyes said to his client.
“So mad you shot him, right?” I asked.
“No! I didn’t shoot him. But I was mad enough that if I’d had a gun, I would’ve. I’d have unloaded the gun in him. That’s just how damn mad I was!” Her tears flowed down her face.
“Jeez,” Keyes said. He rolled his eyes and inhaled a deep breath before releasing the air like a steam engine.
“What did you do to him?” I asked.
Keyes touched her arm, “Not another word.” She didn’t speak. She was so close to telling me everything. Fuck!
“What are we talking here? I mean, my client was obviously under a lot of emotional distress and was impulsively acting out of character. She’s not a murderer. She’s a devastated woman, and mother, whose judgement was clouded by her partner’s unfaithfulness.”
“We can talk about plea deals after we hear the entire story, Counselor. You know how this works,” ADA Wallace interjected. “Are we going to hear it or not?”
He gave Ms. MacDonald a nod, indicating for her to continue.
“As Mr. Keyes said, I was under a lot of emotional distress. I was beside myself,” she said. I held up a hand interrupting her lame speech before she could utter another word.
“When did you get the photos in the mail?” Wallace asked.
“I got them on Wednesday.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to Chase before Friday? Why wait so long?” she asked.
“I didn’t believe what I was seeing at first. Then on Thursday, when he came over, I didn’t want to start a fight in front of the baby. So I made arrangements for my mom to watch him while I confronted Chase on Friday.”
Before another question could be asked, Johnson opened the door and motioned for me to step outside. “Excuse me.”
“How’s it going? Did she show up?” I asked.
“Yep. She showed up and lawyered up immediately. I read her her rights and sent her to booking for the formality. Murder, that’s the charge. How’s it going for you?” Johnson asked.
“Come on and sit in. She’s talking, and Keyes is hoping for a plea. That’s Wallace’s call, but I’m thinking they’re barking up the wrong tree. She got the pics on Wednesday. That gave her two days to stew and think about what she was going to do. She made the conscious decision to commit murder, despite Keyes’ attempt to say otherwise,” I said.
“Come on, let’s go get this finished up.”
We walked back in the room to hear Wallace and Keyes discussing the difference between premeditation and heat of passion. Keyes was desperately searching for anything to help Ms. MacDonald out. I felt bad for the woman, and for her son. The poor child had already lost his father at the hands of his mother, and now he was going to lose his mother to prison. This was how some kids turned into adults with mental disturbances and could easily find themselves on the wrong side of the law, too. As sad as it was, she had to pay for her crime.
“Come on! She’s a mother. What’s her son supposed to do?” Keyes said. He was coming unhinged.
“Your client should have thought of that before she decided to kill her son’s father. Listen, if you can provide proof that she never considered killing the man that day, that things just escalated in the heat of the moment, we can talk, but honestly I don’t believe that’s the case,” Wallace said. “And a plea isn’t on the table until we hear the entire story.”
“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you,” Larissa said. Her tears flowed down her cheeks. “The pictures confirmed my suspicions. I’d suspected Chase of cheating well before they arrived; I just wasn’t sure with whom, and I had no way of proving it. But that morning when I went to confront him, I saw her. It was the young girl from the pictures. She was so pretty.” She sniffled, and took a few minutes to try to gather her composure. “I was sitting in my car. I’d just left Chase in the apartment, when I saw her. I watched her go into the building. She didn’t stay for very long. I’d planned to eavesdrop at the door, but she was running down the stairs as I was making my way up them. We passed each other and our eyes met. It was at that point that I became even more distraught and enraged. He’d discarded me like a piece of trash. He disregarded that I was the mother of his child and found someone prettier and younger.”
“What happened when you got to his apartment, Ms. MacDonald?” I asked.
“I knocked on the door, but he never answered. I tried the door and it was unlocked, so I let myself in. That was when I saw him. He was lying on the floor, with a pool of blood around his head. For a second I thought about calling 911. I swear, I really did. But I changed my mind. I wanted to save him, but I didn’t want to save him. I knew he was going to leave me anyway. I couldn’t live with myself if I saved him and he left me anyway, for her. He didn’t appreciate me anymore. He never would again. I took the knife out of my purse, the one I’d brought from my father’s old tackle box, and I stabbed him.”
“Do you remember how many times you stabbed him?” Johnson asked.
“No,” she mumbled. She rocked back and forth in her chair, arms tightly crossed at her chest. Keyes looked sick. He knew his client was in trouble.
“There was a shoeprint near Effridge’s head. It was a man’s shoe. Was there someone else in the apartment with you? Did you see anyone when you left?”
She cleared her throat and lowered her head. “I put on Chase’s shoes before I stepped closer to his body. Before I left, I threw them in the closet.”
“So the day we saw you in the apartment, you weren’t looking for keepsakes,” I surmised.
“No,” she said. “I went to get the shoes, hoping no one found them yet.”
“Ms. MacDonald, can you take a few minutes and write down your statement for us?” I asked.
She nodded her head. I reached for a pad of paper and pulled a pen from my shirt pocket. I purposefully set the items in front of her, angling in the direction a right-handed person would prefer. She grabbed the bottom of the pad of paper and shifted it to her left. She held the pen in her left hand and began writing. Johnson and I looked at each other and smiled. We definitely had our stabber. One more confirmed piece of evidence to seal her fate.
When she finished writing, I took the paper and pen from her.
“Thank you. Now, please stand,” I said. I walked over to her and pulled the cuffs from my belt, securing them on her left wrist first, then her right.
“Larissa MacDonald, you’re under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you …”
Epilogue
I’d heard of some crazy cases, but never one where two people were responsible for murdering the same person. The most disturbing one of all was knowing Ms. MacDonald stabbed Effridge as he lay on the ground, fighting for his life after being shot twice. She’d said she knew he wasn’t dead, and she’d contemplated calling 911. She changed her mind, fearing if he survived he’d just end up leaving her anyway. Crazy.
I wish we could have gotten the story from Megan Green. It would have been interesting to know how shooting Effridge came to fruition. What was she thinking? She didn’t get any photos sent to her, so what set her off? I guessed those were things I’d find out from her trial.
We all had speculated that her jealousy got the best of her. We had no idea who she’d seen Effridge with, or what she may have found out to trigger her, but we think her actions were less likely to have been thought out, unlike Larissa MacDonald.
Ms. MacDonald was a devastated mess as she was escorted out of the station. If she wasn’t crying genuine tears before, she had plenty this day. She was going to be locked up for a long time. Her son would be grown by the time she got out, if she ever did. That sucked. I hated the thought of it, but she hadn’t given her son any consideration before she sought her revenge.
I was relieved the case was over, and happy we’d solved it. The call to Mrs. Dupree was surprisingly welcomed. She was happy to find out we’d made an arrest, but was shocked when
I told her we’d arrested two people. I heard her sniffle as she rushed me off the phone.
Johnson and Sarge had insisted on taking me out for a drink after work to celebrate the arrests and closure of my first case. Before we left, I looked up from my desk and noticed Delilah Rodriguez staring in my direction. She’d been a key part of me solving this case. She was the one to get MacDonald’s hair samples, leading to a DNA match on the knife. If she hadn’t gone into the bathroom and gotten the discarded hair, who knows how long I’d have been working on getting this all figured out with the evidence to prosecute.
“Hey,” I called out to her as her eyes stayed fixed on me.
“Hey to you. Congratulations,” Rodriguez said.
“Thanks. You want to go out for a drink with us?” I asked.
“Nah. Thanks. I have to pick up my son from daycare. Besides, I’m not giving you the satisfaction of thinking a drink tonight at some dive bar is acceptable for what you owe me.”
“I’d never think that. I just thought it would be nice for you to join us since you really helped break this case wide open.”
“You guys have fun. Enjoy your guy-talk and chest-pounding. Just put in a good word for me, okay?”
“You got it. And thank you, again, Delilah.”
“Call me Dee. Anytime.”
Dee. I liked the sound of that.
About the Author
Zena was born and raised in Waterloo, Iowa, and now lives in Delaware. She married her high school sweetheart and has been happily married for over thirty years. She’s the proud mother of two sons and a daughter.
She's a full-time Release Manager who has a knack for multi-tasking. Zena likes to read and write in her free time, and believes in living life to the fullest. She also enjoys volunteering and traveling.
If you're a fan of steamy (yes, steamy) romance and paranormal, make sure to check out her other stories under her pen name, Desiree A Cox.
A Note from Zena
Thank you for reading my very first crime/mystery story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m honored and humbled that you chose to share your time reading it.
I’d be forever grateful if you’d be kind enough to leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads for me. Every review counts and I read them all.
You can also connect and communicate with me through my other social media sites:
Facebook Author Page
Amazon
Goodreads
Be on the lookout for Brad Oliver and Delilah Rodriguez’s romance story, which will be coming late 2018!
Another great way to stay in the know about upcoming releases is to follow me on Amazon. You’ll get an email as soon as a new story goes live.
Acknowledgment
I have to thank the fantastic people who have supported and believed in me throughout my writing journey so far. And a special thanks to those who encouraged me to write something out of the romance genre.
You have all encouraged me to write and keep writing. You’ve allowed me to bounce ideas off you, get your feedback, and even have read the works in progress, excerpts, or chapters for me. Thank you all.
To my husband, who I am still madly in love with after all these years. You are wonderful (and hot)! We are in this life together, forever.
To my three amazing kids, technically adults now, but always my babies; each of you are fantastic. I am proud of you all, and love you all so much.
Thank you to my two brothers and my sisters-in-law for telling me to just go for it and write about whatever I want when I began second-guessing myself. I love you all.
Thank you, Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design, for all of the gorgeous covers! Thank you, Kim Huther, for your attention to detail during the editing process.
Thank you to the ladies at Book Partners in Crime Promotions, for everything you’ve done to help me from cover reveal to release. And a huge thank you to all the bloggers and reviewers who helped share, read, and review. I appreciate you all!
Thank you, Debra B, for being my beta and a wonderful friend. I appreciate your feedback and suggestions tremendously.
Thank you to all of my author friends, bloggers, and special groups who provide me such wonderful support throughout the writing process: Cory D. Cyr, K.L. Silver, Ava Michaels, J. Asmara, S. Raven Storm, the ladies of The Round Table, the authors who I’m honored to be part of A Wolf’s Hunger series with, the amazing authors who I’ve had the honor of being published with in the anthologies, all of the authors who’ve helped me celebrate my releases, the Night Writers, the Sassy Queens, the Bonded By Books group, the First State Scribes, my Twisted Crew reader group, and so many others. I could write a novel listing all of you and probably still would accidentally forget someone on paper, but you’re in my heart.
Thank you to the Queens who make my swag, covers, banners and bookmarks - Rebecca, Stracey, and Angel at Sassy Queens of Design.
Thank you to Authorclassified.com’s Ravannah Rayne and Kristin Dutt, for all of the promotional work you do.
For everyone who has offered encouraging words, votes of confidence, and kept me sane, thank you. That was no small feat!
Thank you to my mom and dad (in heaven). I hold in my heart decades of cherished memories that I could have only gotten from the both of you. I didn’t get to pick my parents, but if I could I’d pick you both all over again. I love you and wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you both. I appreciate your love and support growing up, and throughout my life.
Most of all, thank you to each of you, the readers. Without you, my dream is nothing. Publishing a book without having readers, well, that would just suck. And I love reading your reviews. Thank you all!
If I forgot anyone, I apologize. There have been so many people who have helped me along the way, and I completely appreciate every last person. I certainly don’t mean to leave anyone out.
If you like Erotic Romance and steamy Paranormal Romance,
Check out these Books by Desiree A. Cox… Desiree’s books and on Amazon.