Major Crimes (4 page)

I sighed. “You can keep her this time, but I’d really like to sit down with you and work out a regular schedule that we stick to if that’s what you want.”

“Great. Wonderful. Of course. Whatever you want to do.”

“And yes, I would like you to call every day, but when Mandy’s awake, so I can hear her voice. I do miss her.”

“Consider it done.”

We hung up and it took me forever to stop thinking about how I wouldn’t see Mandy until Sunday. My heart felt heavy. Wiping my tears away, I turned my attention back to the one thing that would help distract me—Archie’s murder.

I reorganized my list of suspects into three categories: those with motive, those with access, and those least likely to have murdered Archie. Those with motive were Archie’s ex-wife Martha, Coral Beach’s administrator Vin, Bonnie’s assistant Dira, and Tina, the disgruntled employee. Not that someone should have a motive for just not liking the guy, but I had to start somewhere. Those with access were Bryce, Archie’s wife Pamela, and Archie’s teenage daughter, so far.

My list of those least likely to have murdered Archie was enormous. Everyone who went to the retirement party was on it—Bonnie, my parents, other employees, friends of Archie, relatives, and at least fifty law enforcement officers. I decided not to focus on that list. Too many people and not worth my efforts to research them all. Not to mention I was short on time. Bryce couldn’t stay hidden for long, and I had to remove myself from the investigation in less than a week when my daughter returned.

Bryce needed to give me a suspect list. I wanted to know who left the party and traveled with the guys to Savoy’s. I anticipated interviewing the bartenders to find out if they saw anything or anyone strange. I started a list of things to accomplish. Talking Bryce into seeking help from an expert was one of them. Freddy would help. Speaking to my mother about what she knew and learning more about Tina were also top priorities. Archie’s new employer needed to be checked out as well. Could there have been someone else who wanted that job? Someone who would’ve killed to get it?

By ten o’clock, my eyelids drooped and my pillow beckoned me to rest. I fell asleep thinking about the big day ahead of me. I planned on rising early to get a good head start. I tried to stop my mind from thinking about Bryce’s good looks, great body, and sexy dimples, but I didn’t have a lot of luck with that.

Chapter 4

Bryce

The sun’s rays through the blinds seared through my eyelids. After a moment of delirium, I remembered I had fallen asleep on the couch at Chelsey’s house. Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and wondered if Chelsey was awake. My Movado said it was eight in the morning. Snickers stared at me like I was lunch.

“What’s the matter, boy? Chelsey didn’t feed you?”

Snickers tilted his head and wagged his tail. With Snickers on my heels, I dragged myself into the kitchen and found he hadn’t eaten his food.

“Here’s your food, boy.”

Snickers tilted his head again. I found where Chelsey kept the K-Cups and rummaged through them for one that wasn’t flavored. No luck. I popped a French vanilla into the Keurig and waited for magic to happen in my mug. It didn’t smell all that bad. A little caffeine running through my veins was an immediate need.

Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the ring. The first thing I did when I gained access to Chelsey’s house the previous day was put it into a plastic bag. Contaminating it further wasn’t in my best interest. I wondered how I could get it tested for DNA. Most of the residue would probably be Archie’s blood. DNA tests were expensive and I didn’t have the luxury of using the government’s dime to pay for it.

The ring was unusual. It wasn’t a wedding ring. White gold with five rubies protruding from it. Hand crafted. Maybe I didn’t need DNA testing. Maybe a local jeweler would know more about it and lead me to its owner. If it wasn’t made in the area, an interrogation of local jewelers would prove futile. If I was working on a normal case, I could’ve posted the ring on social media to see if anyone recognized it. But in my situation, that wasn’t going to happen.

I thought long and hard about who could’ve killed Archie. Three guys had accompanied Archie and me to Savoy’s. Two were trustworthy. The third I didn’t know. A friend of Archie’s nicknamed “Solar.” He was top on my list to check out.

There were a random few who knew we’d be at Savoy’s. It wasn’t something we had planned, so my bets were on either one of the guys at Savoy’s or someone who targeted Archie at the retirement party, overheard where we were going, and followed us there. Chelsey’s theory that it could’ve been the wife or child was dead wrong. No pun intended. For fear of hurting her ego, I didn’t tell her she was on the wrong track…but she was.

The murder couldn’t have been random. Too much planning was involved for someone to get a date rape drug and set up a cop as the fall guy. Judging by the number of stab wounds, it had to be someone who loathed him. Couldn’t have been a robbery gone wrong. No. Not a robbery. Someone knew the vic. Someone fueled by rage. Or heartbreak or revenge.

I borrowed Chelsey’s computer to do a preliminary check on Solar. His real name was Solomon Aaron Ritter. Without access to the county’s computer networks, I doubted I would find a criminal history. What I did find was interesting. Sol’s parents were stabbed to death in their home thirty-five years prior, when Sol was a teenager. He was cleared of any wrongdoing, but the perps remained at large. I wondered if Sol had a temper. Did the police let the wrong guy go? Did Archie betray Solar in some way?

I perused the Internet for info about the other two guys that came with us and found nothing unusual. Carl was in his thirties, married, two kids. Drew was in his forties. Carl was a cop. Drew was a municipal clerk. Honest men. I couldn’t see a motive there. Drew ducked out early to catch the end of a ball game. Carl left before us to get home to his family. I couldn’t remember when Sol left. Perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he stayed until Archie and I left.

In an attempt to jog my memory, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. Was Solar in the taxi with me? Was Sol the person implicating me in the crime? What if he claimed he was there and said he saw me stab Archie? What purpose would Sol have to lie? Besides the fact that Sol could be the killer covering his own tracks.

Solar was number one on my suspect list. How was I going to get close to him to find out if he knew what happened to Archie? I had two choices. Risk being found by my brothers in law enforcement by confronting him myself. Or ask Chelsey to question him. The latter would be safer to keep me hidden, but risky for her.

In case I was wrong with my theory, I drafted my own list of suspects. I needed to figure out if there were any criminals that Archie had put away. Searching the Internet using Archie’s name led me to a few cases, but none stood out. Since he was a local police chief, Archie wouldn’t have been the man blamed for locking up a serious criminal in recent years. He was a supervisor and I was fairly certain any arrests would’ve been through the local detective bureau or a different agency. Nonetheless, it wasn’t something to be overlooked. Someone could’ve been released on parole that Archie put away eons ago.

Allowing Freddy to help could prove fruitful. He’d easily be able to cross reference Archie’s old cases with anyone released from jail recently, but it could take him a considerable amount of time if Archie had made a lot of arrests. Time I didn’t have. Plus, I feared Freddy would turn me in. But I could’ve asked Chelsey to ask him for help. I wasn’t sure if Chelsey had it in her to lie to Freddy—pretending she didn’t know where I was.

I decided Freddy wasn’t an option. I was in this alone. Well, not completely alone, I had Chelsey. It dumbfounded me that she believed me since no one else seemed to—given the television reports. That was important to me.
She
was important to me. And not just because I was in trouble and she was helping me. No. It was more than that.

Speaking of Chelsey, I wondered why she wasn’t yet awake. It was already nine. She told me her daughter woke her up early every day. Her internal clock should’ve been programmed to six in the morning, but what did I know?

After debating whether or not to wake her, I decided to check on her to make sure she was okay without waking her. I crept down the hallway to Chelsey’s bedroom. The door was open, so I peered inside. The bed was made and Chelsey was MIA. Her bathroom door was open as well, so I knew she wasn’t in the latrine. The shower wasn’t running. I scratched my head. Where could she be? Did she go to work? I guess I assumed she’d call out of work since I was in her house, but maybe she didn’t.

Chelsey’s car was missing. It surprised me that I hadn’t woken when she left the house or started up the car. I wasn’t about to sit around the house and do nothing. I wanted to go to the bar and interview the bartender, hostess, and manager, but it was much too early in the morning for that.

Since I didn’t have anything to change into, getting dressed was easy—all I had to do was tie my sneakers. Conveniently, I ditched my bloody clothes and shoes in the lagoon behind Chelsey’s house; the only thing I had to wear was a spare outfit I kept in my gym bag. There was no reason to provide the police with more ammunition against me. Bloody clothes would’ve given them more evidence to wrongfully convict me.

I left Chelsey’s house and jogged up the road to the strip mall. At the pharmacy, I purchased deodorant, a toothbrush, a razor, shaving cream, a prepaid cell phone, and an “I love the Jersey Shore” t-shirt, since that was the only wardrobe option available. I also bought the matching Jersey Shore baseball cap to complete my costume.

Before I arrived back at Chelsey’s, I ditched my cell phone. I knew it could be used to find my whereabouts. A prepaid phone wouldn’t be easily tracked and I wouldn’t hold on to it long enough to be tracked.

Thinking about what I should do next, I decided to contact Carl’s wife. A good investigator would rule out everyone close to Archie as the murderer, even if they didn’t consider that person a suspect. Even the best investigator made human errors. Carl worked the day shift. I hoped his wife had returned home after taking their children to school.

I dialed Carl’s home phone. His wife picked up on the second ring.

“Gloria?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Carl’s friend, Robert.”

“Oh, yes, Robert. I remember you from our wedding.” I, too, was at Carl’s wedding. I sat at a table with an old school buddy of Carl’s, Robert. Robert mentioned that although he and Carl didn’t speak often, they always picked up where they had left off.

“I was wondering if Carl was around.”

“I’m sorry you missed him, Robert. He’s at work. I can tell him you called though. Is it urgent?”

“No, no, it’s not urgent at all. I just saw him at Archie’s retirement party on Saturday, but I didn’t have much time to catch up with him. I got so busy talking to everyone that I didn’t see him leave. I was there until ten. What time did he get home?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. Eleven or twelve maybe. I’m always in bed by that time.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Those late nights are a thing of the past for me. Anyway, I’ll give Carl a call next week. Nice talking to you, Gloria.”

“You too, Robert.”

So, Carl got home around eleven or twelve. If only I could remember what time I left the bar…that would help. Perhaps the bartender or hostess remembered us leaving—but it wasn’t likely given that there were a lot of people at Savoy’s. I wondered if Savoy’s had video surveillance. If so, the recordings would show anyone following us when we left. Or I could track down the taxi that drove me home. Maybe they’d have logs.

There were only two taxi companies that served the area. Taxi Joe’s and Gabby’s Cabbies. Taxi Joe’s phone number was easily located on the Internet, so I called them first. A kind woman told me that none of the vehicles in their fleet were dispatched to Savoy’s on Saturday night. That left Gabby’s Cabbies. Some dopey chick answered the phone.

“Gabby’s Cabbies.”

“Hello. This is Officer Mike Jackson. I was wondering if I could speak to someone about a taxi that was dispatched to Savoy’s on Saturday night.”

“Dispatched where?”

“Savoy’s.”

“Sahoy’s what?”

“Savoy’s Bar and Grill.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s on Creek Boulevard in Madisen Township.”

“Never heard of that either.”

“Do you keep a log?”

“A log?”

“Yes, a log.”

“Why would I keep a log? For what purpose?”

“In case you need to know who got dispatched where and to know how much money your cabbies should’ve collected.”

“Oh, that kind of log.”

“Yes.” I didn’t want to know what other kind of log she thought I meant. I mean, it wasn’t Christmas. I wasn’t asking about a yule log.

“You’ll have to talk to Peter.”

“Who’s Peter?”

“The manager.”

“When will Peter be in?”

“Tomorrow.”

“This is urgent. I’m conducting a murder investigation.”

“Murder?!”

“Yes, murder.”

“Oh, my.”

“Does Peter have a cell number I can try to call?” Speaking of trying—she was trying my nerves, but my training told me to be patient. You get more flies with honey. And when patience doesn’t work and the honey dries up, then bad cop takes over.

“Um, I don’t know.”

“Look, I really need to get in touch with him. It’s imperative. One of your cabbies drove the deceased home.”

“How could a deceased person get into the cab?”

I rolled my eyes. “Ma’am, he wasn’t deceased when he got into the cab.”

“Are you saying one of our cabbies killed him?”

I was getting nowhere with…“What did you say your name was?”

“Sheila. Sheila Davis.”

I was getting nowhere with Sheila. “Sheila, did you work on Saturday night?”

“Yep, I work every Saturday night.”

“Do you remember anyone calling for a cab on Saturday?”

“Lots of people.”

“How about a bunch of drunk guys from a bar named Savoy’s?”

“Oh, yeah. Now that you mention it…I did get a call from that bar. A bunch of guys, too drunk to drive.”

“Great job, Sheila. This is extremely helpful.” I rolled my eyes again, then I smiled because I read somewhere online that smiling on the phone made your voice sound less harsh. “Do you remember what time that call came in?”

“Hold on, let me check the call book.”

I rolled my eyes a third time. She had a call book, but I had to talk to the manager about the
call log.
If I could’ve reached through the phone and slapped her upside the head, I would have.

Sheila came back to the phone after a few minutes. “Says here we got the call at twelve forty-seven. A driver was in the area. Ralph. He would’ve gotten there within five minutes.”

“Sheila, you’re about to break our case wide open!”

“What case?”

I gritted my teeth. This woman was living proof that evolution could go in reverse. “Our murder investigation case.”

“
Ooooohhhhh
.”

“All I need is to talk to Ralph.”

“He’ll be in tomorrow, but he’s usually on the road.” I shook the phone. It was the closest thing I had to shaking Sheila’s head.