Little Broken Things

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  Casper balled his hand into a fist, and I yelled, “Casper, no. Don’t!”

  But I was still too far away to stop him.

  Shawn jerked his head to the side, narrowly missing a collision with Casper’s fist. Shawn was about double Casper’s size, with triple the muscle tone. He grabbed Casper’s arm, and I waited for the smack-down I was sure Shawn was about to rain down on him, but he didn’t. He looked at Casper and said, “It’s all right, buddy. I get it. We’re all hurting right now.”

  Whatever I expected him to say, it wasn’t what he’d just said.

  Shawn smiled at me as if he’d just earned a gold star for being the bigger man, and I wrapped a hand around Casper’s arm and escorted him outside. Before I had the chance to get a word in, Shawn approached, followed by Casper’s parents.

  “He’s upset,” Shawn said. “You don’t need to arrest him. I’m fine. No harm done.”

  “You won’t arrest him, will you?” Delores pleaded. “He’s had a bad day. We all have.”

  I hesitated, trying to pool my thoughts together.

  “I need to talk to Casper alone,” I said. “All of you, head back inside. And don’t worry. I’ll keep him with me until he calms down. If he doesn’t attempt to attack anyone else, he won’t be arrested.”

  Relieved, the trio turned and walked away, leaving me to face an exasperated Casper, who struggled to catch his breath. He looked like he was about to pass out.

  I stood in front of him and took hold of his wrists. “I need you to breathe for me, Casper, right now. Come on, we’ll do it together.”

  He nodded, and we both took a deep breath in. I counted backward from twenty to one, a technique I’d learned in yin yoga. When he evened out, I attempted to reason with him.

  “I know how you’re feeling right now,” I said. “It doesn’t mean you get to engage in a fistfight because you’re angry.”

  “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why did he just stand up for me like that? He doesn’t even know me. Why didn’t he do to me what I wanted to do to him?”

  It was almost like he welcomed a beat-down from Shawn, a dose of self-deprecation to add to the tremendous pain he was already experiencing.

  “I don’t know why,” I said. “I’d like to think it’s because he loved Olivia at one time, and she loved you, and that means something. Why did you think attacking him at Olivia’s funeral service was a good idea?”

  He kicked at the grass and didn’t respond.

  “Casper, did Roxie tell you she thought Shawn had something to do with Olivia’s murder?” I asked.

  No response.

  “I’m trying to give you a chance here, but I’m going to need you to give me one before the funeral gets out.”

  “She … yeah. We talked, and she told me what kind of guy Shawn is, and she said he was jealous of my relationship with Olivia. Jealous enough to … maybe even kill her, I guess.”

  “Did Roxie have any evidence to back up her allegation? I’m guessing she didn’t.”

  “She gave me some examples of his past behavior. It wasn’t good.”

  Of course, it wasn’t.

  “Did Roxie tell you she also suspects your ex-girlfriend, Brandy, could have murdered Olivia?” I asked.

  He glared at me. “What? No. Why would she think Brandy—”

  Voices came from inside the chapel, which meant the funeral was over.

  “Look, just because someone gives you their opinion about someone else doesn’t mean it’s accurate. I’ve spoken to Shawn. I’ve also spoken to his friends. He has multiple alibis for the night Olivia died, and right now, I have no reason to believe he’s guilty of anything. From now on, you need to trust me to find the bad guy, all right?”

  He shrugged, then nodded.

  It was good enough for me.

  I walked him back to his parents and stood at the door until the woman of the hour showed herself. Then I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to the side, away from the crowd. “Roxie, we need to talk.”

  Chapter 38

  Lars Moreno stared at the hand I’d wrapped around Roxie’s arm and then looked me in the eye and said, “It’s been a while, Georgiana. You mind taking your hand off my daughter?”

  Tall with a boy-next-door charm, Lars still had a lot going for him. His once blond hair had turned an attractive shade of silver, and he had a slight Dad bod, but it didn’t matter. He was every bit as good looking as I remembered when we were in school together.

  “I suppose I could let her go,” I said. “It all depends. You going to make sure she doesn’t take off while I’m questioning her?”

  “What’s this all about?” he asked. “What’s happened?”

  I turned toward Roxie. “Do you want to tell your dad what you did, or shall I tell him?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Daaaaad,” Roxie whined. “Make her let go of me.”

  He shook his head at his daughter and laughed. “For as long as I’ve known the detective, I can tell you one thing for sure—no one makes her do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

  Roxie huffed an irritated, “Are you kidding me? Why are you being so lame?”

  “I assume you know why your daughter was arrested the other night,” I said.

  “I am. It was all a misunderstanding; one we should be able to clear up without too many problems. Has something else happened?”

  I wouldn’t call the gun she took to Brandy’s place a misunderstanding.

  “Roxie seems to believe there are two people who could have killed Olivia,” I said. “And since she didn’t get anywhere with Brandy, it seems she now has her sights set on Shawn Murphy. She shared her opinion with Casper earlier, knowing full well how vulnerable he is today.”

  Lars tugged at his jaw. “Shawn Murphy. I presume he’s the one Casper assaulted during the funeral service.”

  “He didn’t assault him, he attempted to assault him,” I clarified.

  “Is it true, Roxie?” Lars asked. “Did you have any part in what happened during the funeral today?”

  “I may have said a few things to Casper before the service started,” Roxie said. “It wasn’t a big deal. Can we go now?”

  Lars let out a long, frustrated sigh. “You know what, honey? Sometimes I think I enable you too much. I’ve given you so many chances, and here you are, yet again, stirring up trouble. I have half a mind to let Georgiana lock you up for a while so you can learn what life is like when all of the freedoms you enjoy have been removed from you.”

  Roxie rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Dad.”

  “Am I? Tell you what, Georgiana. If you’d like to take my daughter down to the station for questioning, I’m all for it. Go right ahead. As for me, I’m headed home. Give me a ring when you’re ready for me to collect her.”

  Lars turned, heading in the opposite direction.

  “Dad, wait!” Roxie said. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know Casper would jump him at the funeral. It’s not like I told him to do it.”

  “You may as well have,” I said. “You set the timer on the explosive and then sat back and waited for it to go off.”

  “Why haven’t you arrested Shawn yet?” Roxie spat. “He’s guilty. I know he is.”

  “Where’s your proof? You don’t have any. All you have is a grudge from a long time ago, when he hit on your girlfriend. Just because a person has a temper, doesn’t make them a murderer. You need to back off and stop playing detective.”

  “That’s the problem,” Roxie said. “I can’t back off because you aren’t doing your job. Don’t you see? I’ve even tried to help you, and you still can’t seem to put it all together.”

  I’ve even tried to help you.

  It wasn’t what she’d said as much as it was the way she looked at me when she said it, like she’d left me tips and clues, breadcrumbs for me to follow.

  “How have you tried to help me?” I asked. “Give me an honest answer, and I won’t take you down to the police sta
tion. Don’t, and we can head over there right now. I have nothing going on tonight. I have no problem keeping this conversation going for as long as it—”

  “It was me, all right? I’m the one who stuck the poem under the windshield of your car.”

  Chapter 39

  “You could have just handed me the poem,” I said. “Why didn’t you?”

  “I promised Olivia I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I always keep my promises. After what happened to her, I decided I needed to find a way to tell you without, you know … telling you. I let the poem speak for itself.”

  “Just to be clear, Olivia wrote the poem, right?”

  Roxie nodded.

  “And she was referring to herself in the poem, meaning, at some point before her death, Olivia was pregnant.”

  Roxie nodded.

  “Did anyone else know about the pregnancy?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What about her parents?”

  “They don’t know, and they don’t need to know.”

  “I’m assuming Olivia decided not to go through with the pregnancy.”

  “It was for the best. She was too young to have a kid. I didn’t want her to go to the appointment alone, so we went together.”

  “When was this?”

  “In our junior year of high school when she was dating Shawn.”

  “Was Shawn the baby’s father?” I asked.

  Roxie stuck her hands in her pocket and looked at her father, who didn’t seem to know what to make of his daughter’s revelation.

  “Answer the question, Roxie,” Lars said.

  “I don’t know the answer. Honest. I asked her if it was Shawn’s baby, and she wouldn’t tell me. She thought about keeping the baby at first. Then she said she knew she couldn’t.”

  “How did you end up with the poem?”

  “After she ended the pregnancy, she was depressed for a while. I invited her over to my house one day, and as soon as she arrived, she showed me the poem she’d written. She was desperate to share it with someone, and since no one else knew about the baby, she shared it with me. After I read it, she scrunched it into a ball and threw it in the wastebasket. I fished it out after she left, and I saved it. I thought maybe one day she’d wish she hadn’t tossed it out.”

  Olivia’s parents had been through so much already, and now this. As much as I would have preferred not telling them about this newest revelation, I knew I had to, whether I wanted to or not.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened to Olivia,” Roxie said. “I think she must have told Shawn about the pregnancy.”

  “Why would she after keeping it quiet for so long? If she told Shawn, she risked him telling others.”

  A risk I didn’t believe she’d take.

  “On the day I was fitted for my bridesmaid dress, Olivia told me she couldn’t wait to get out of Cambria and move away with Casper. She brought up the pregnancy and how hard it still was to think about. Then she said something strange. She said after she left Cambria, the truth would all come out.”

  The truth would all come out.

  “What do you think she meant?” I asked.

  “She was excited to get married, but she was also carrying around a lot of guilt. I assumed it was about the baby.”

  “She could have meant anything,” I said. “Maybe she was talking about the baby, or maybe she was talking about something else, or someone else.”

  “What else could it have been? She had to have been talking about the baby.”

  The baby was the obvious choice.

  It didn’t mean it was the right one.

  “Was Scott Bartlett ever one of your teachers?” I asked.

  “Yeah, my senior year.”

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  “Ahh, he’s nice, funny, charming. I’m not sure what else you want me to say. Why?”

  “Years ago, he was fired for kissing a student at another school he worked at, and I’ve heard he flirts with some of his female students.”

  Lars crossed his arms, his face turning somber as he awaited his daughter’s answer.

  “Mr. Bartlett never touched me,” Roxie said.

  “Did he ever say anything inappropriate to you?”

  “Nope. I always thought he was a nice guy.”

  It wasn’t what I’d hoped she’d say, even though it was a relief to hear their relationship had been an appropriate one.

  “If you were convinced Shawn found out about the baby and killed Olivia because of it, why did you go after Brandy first?” I asked.

  “They both have motive. Brandy’s was obvious from day one. Part of me still doesn’t believe she’s innocent. But then I got to thinking about Shawn, and I realized if Olivia had told him about the baby, I could see him going to the bookstore and—”

  “I’m going to stop you now, before you let your opinions cloud your judgement any more than they already have. You don’t know if Shawn knows about the baby. She never admitted to telling him. She might not have.”

  “Yeah, well, you have your opinion, and I have mine.”

  “And you’re entitled to it, but I need you to stop with the amateur sleuthing and let me do my job.”

  She snorted a laugh. “I’d let you do your job, but you’re not doing it. If you were, you would have arrested someone by now.”

  “Enough,” Lars said. “From this point on, you will do as the detective asks—period.”

  Lars and Roxie headed toward the parking lot, and I turned, watching Aunt Laura walk to the car with Barb and Chad. Aunt Laura glanced my way, and her expression soured. She could tell something was wrong just by looking at me, and this time, no amount of rum and Coke would make what I needed to say any easier.

  Chapter 40

  I was about to unlock my car when I realized Shawn was parked beside me. He was sitting in his truck, staring out of his window as if in a daze. I didn’t blame him. It had been a rough day. The kind of day where all I could think about was getting into bed, pulling the covers over my head, and not dishing out any more bad news.

  But the day wasn’t over yet, and whether I liked it or not, I had more bad news to deliver.

  I walked around to the driver’s side of Shawn’s truck and tapped on the glass window. The window came down and he gave me a look of concern.

  “Hey, Shawn,” I said. “You headed to the reception?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t get the chance to give my condolences to Olivia’s parents before they left. Figure I’d stop by their place for a few minutes, talk to them while I have the opportunity. You?”

  “Yeah, I’m headed there now. I’d like to ask you a few questions while we’re alone.”

  He switched the truck’s ignition off. “Mmmkay. What’s up?”

  “Back when you were dating Olivia, did you and she, I mean … I figure since you were in a relationship together, the two of you must have been sexually active, right?”

  “Sexually active? Haven’t heard anyone use that term in a while.”

  He was right.

  It was a lame way to approach the subject, even for me.

  I tried again.

  “Were the two of you having sex?”

  For a minute it looked like he might revert back to Shawn 1.0. Instead, he got straight to the point. “Yeah, of course we were.”

  “How far into the relationship did the two of you start having sex?”

  He tapped a thumb on the steering wheel, thinking. “I dunno. Think she was fifteen and I was seventeen. Or maybe she was sixteen. Can’t say for sure.”

  “Had Olivia ever slept with anyone before you?”

  “Naw. Don’t think so. I always assumed I was her first.”

  Of course he did.

  “And was she your first?” I asked.

  He shook his head at me like he was shocked I even needed to ask and then burst out laughing. “What do you think?”

  He may have implied he’d been with others before Ol
ivia, but his eyes told a different story.

  “I think she was your first,” I said.

  “Who cares if she was, or she wasn’t? Why are you asking me this stuff?”

  I was working up to a point—a point I wasn’t ready to get to yet.

  “Do you remember getting into a fight with Olivia at the drive-in when you guys were dating?” I asked.

  A long pause, and then, “It wasn’t a fight. It was a difference of opinion. I wanted to watch the movie. She wanted to mess around. Any other time, I would have been up for it, but I’d waited six months for that movie to come out.”

  “Did she initiate sex often?”

  “Why do you care?”

  I’d thought about asking Casper about his sex life with Olivia instead of Shawn, but between the two of them, Shawn’s emotional state was balanced, and Casper’s was not. And even though I never knew what was about to come out of Shawn’s mouth, he had always been forthcoming.

  “The more I learn about Olivia, the more layers there are to her,” I said. “I get how these questions might seem to you, but they’re relevant to the case. Getting answers to them might help me discover the motive behind her murder. I’m still trying to figure out the meaning behind her poems and whether she was raped or not. If she was, her behavior toward sex may have been different than some of the other girls you’ve dated.”

  “Makes sense, I guess. We were a couple of horny teenagers back then, so yeah, we had sex … a lot. Sometimes it was her idea; sometimes it was mine.”

  “And what was her attitude toward sex?”

  “Hard to compare her to other women because she was young and inexperienced. I will say this—I’ve been with women much older than myself, and I like it a lot better than being with chicks my same age. Older women are … I don’t know, a lot more confident and mature when it comes to sex. You know what I mean, right?”

  I did, but I wasn’t about to admit it to him.