Major Crimes (19 page)

“Whatever. It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“Is it okay to drop the DNA off to you in the morning? I’m beat.”

“Yeah, no problem. What about Pamela and Brittany? Any luck there?”

“Not yet, but I’ll try again in the morning. How are the other investigators doing?”

“They’re wrapping up their investigations. Hopefully, I’ll have the DNA testing back quickly and have enough evidence to make holes in the accusations against Bryce.”

“I have a good feeling about this Cynthia. I just know it in my bones that it’s going to lead us somewhere. I can’t explain it. I just know it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Little Bird. But I do believe every little thing is gonna be alright.”

“Okay, Bob Marley, on that note, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ten-four.”

After arriving at home, I called my parents to check on Snickers. I told them I’d come the next day to pick him up. I figured the case was just about closed, so there was no reason I couldn’t take care of my own dog.

A chai latte sounded good, so I made one for myself. I changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt and curled up on my couch with a book. But, before I started reading, there was one more call I had to make—to Bryce. I figured he could use the some good news.

Chapter 24

Bryce

My cell phone chirped, jolting me from my slumber. It took me a moment to realize where I was. I must’ve dozed off while watching surveillance footage. I blinked the sleep away and answered. “Hello.”

“You sound like you were sleeping again.”

“I guess I dozed off. How are you, Chelsey?”

“I’m good. I wanted to give you a little good news.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think I might’ve found the murderer!”

“What? Who?”

“Cynthia Sterling.”

“The woman who had an affair with Archie?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think it’s her?”

“She’s left-handed. She’s a woman. She could’ve had motive, holding a grudge against Archie for years. Freddy thinks it’s a solid lead.”

“I’m not convinced, but did you get her DNA?”

“Yes, sir! I did. And it doesn’t matter if you aren’t convinced. Freddy thinks he might have enough reasonable doubt to get you off the hook.”

I heard what Chelsey said, and I pretty much knew what evidence Freddy had gathered. I wasn’t convinced it was enough. I doubted a jury would think there was enough evidence for a vote of not guilty. It certainly wasn’t enough for the various police force members to change their minds about me. I was still all over the news. Still in the newspapers. There was a manhunt for me. Not for other people. Only for me.

“Did Freddy say that?”

“Um, not in those exact words.”

I rubbed my face. That hadn’t sounded like good news to me. “What other DNA do you have to collect?”

“Just Pamela and Brittany. I’m going to their house early tomorrow—see if Pamela walks Brittany to the bus stop. I’m not sure I can get their DNA, but I’m going to try. I forgot to ask Freddy. Any luck with the other DNA results?”

“Negative.”

“How are you holding up with Geri and Frank?”

“They’re good people, but I wish you were here.”

“You do? Um, I mean, why?”

“You were good company.”

“Um, thanks. Okay, well, I’m going to settle in with a good book and then go to bed. I’ll have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too. I…uh…yeah, I’m tired too.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

I cringed. I wished I knew the right words to say. I wanted to say something other than “I’m tired too,” but I didn’t want to get all mushy with her. I didn’t have a clue what was going on between us. While I hoped she was right—that Cynthia Sterling was the murderer—I didn’t think it was going to be that easy.

The surveillance videos would have to wait until the morning. I was beat. I traipsed up the stairs and down the hall to my room, where I passed out on the bed.

* * *

Rain pattered against the windows in my bedroom. The alarm clock read six a.m. I tried to fall back asleep, but sleep was not my friend. Tiptoeing to the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee, figuring Frank and Geri would’ve also wanted some when they woke.

Finding a mug in the cabinet, I poured myself some coffee and sat at the kitchen table contemplating whether I should watch surveillance footage or listen to wiretaps. We hadn’t yet listened to Cynthia’s phone conversations.

If I left right away, I could’ve made it to Coral Beach in time to see Brittany get on the school bus and follow Pamela to work. But, Pamela was probably out of work on bereavement leave. I wondered if Brittany was going to school.

Would collecting DNA from the two of them put us any closer to solving Archie’s murder? I wasn’t convinced. I had a nagging feeling we weren’t on the right track. What evidence did Freddy have so far? A woman on a videotape whose face can’t be seen. An unusual ring that may or may not be connected. An autopsy report where a forensic expert could testify that the killer was left-handed. And a whole lot of suspects that were ruled out. It wasn’t much. Maybe the forensic expert would be enough to convince a jury I was innocent since I was right-handed. Not before my reputation was ruined. Not before I lost my job. Not before making it difficult to find another job.

Until that moment, I hadn’t really thought about what it meant for me to be hiding—mainly that I was probably jobless. Even if my name was cleared, I wouldn’t have had a good explanation about why I hadn’t called in to work for days. They wouldn’t have cared that I was trying to solve the case instead of turning myself in. I rubbed my face. My life was capsized and I was desperate to right it.

“I thought I smelled coffee.” Frank was dressed in a blue robe with gray jogging shorts and one of those wife-beater tanks underneath. He shuffled into the kitchen with his slippers.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I’m usually up early. You looked deep in thought.”

“Yeah. I was wondering if I should listen to more wiretaps, review videos, or if I should help Chelsey collect DNA.”

“Now I know Freddy doesn’t want you wandering around getting yourself caught. As much as you might want to see that pretty little Chelsey…she can wait.”

“Chelsey was convinced last night that Cynthia Sterling was the killer. Did you get a chance to listen to her wiretaps?”

Frank shook his head. “We can tackle that today.”

“I was curious about her daughter, but I haven’t been able to find any information about her. Do you think you can find her name? All I know is that it was Tina or Tara. I thought it was possibly Tina Liara.”

“I can work on that today too. Looks like we got our work cut out for us.”

I nodded.

Geri lumbered into the kitchen. “My knee is killing me today.”

“I’d be happy to make breakfast this morning, Geri.” It wasn’t much, but it was something I could do to make her life easier.

“You don’t have to. That old man right there is perfectly capable of making breakfast.” She pointed to Frank.

“Who you calling old?” Frank feigned anger.

Geri snapped at him. “Really? Do you really think you’re not old?”

Frank moved toward the refrigerator and removed an eighteen-pack of eggs, butter, milk, and cheese. I filled a mug with coffee for Geri. Frank whipped up cheese omelets while I made toast.

Half-way through breakfast, Freddy called Frank.

“Uh huh. Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah. Okay. No?
Hmph
. Hold on.” Frank handed the phone to me.

“Hey Bryce. I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is we are narrowing things down. The bad news is that the DNA samples Chelsey collected weren’t a match for the blood found on the ring. I’m expecting Chelsey to drop off DNA from Cynthia Sterling any minute. Hopefully we’ll get a hit. We also hope to get Pamela and Brittany’s DNA to check.”

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“Stay put. Help Frank.”

“Understood.”

“I’m hoping to wrap things up soon—a day or two. Hopefully what we’ve collected is enough.”

“Are you as convinced that Cynthia did this as Chelsey is?”

“Time will tell, Brother. Time will tell.”

“Alright. Keep me posted.”

“Ten-four.”

“Don’t worry, Bryce.” Geri patted my arm. “These things have a way of working themselves out.”

I wondered what she meant by that. Had she been accused of a crime she didn’t commit once upon a time? Had she known someone who was accused of murder? Maybe it was just something someone said when they didn’t know what else to say.

When the food was gone, I made a pit stop in the bathroom. I took out my phone and called Chelsey. “Hey.”

“Hey, Bryce. How are you holding up?”

“Not bad. How about you?”

“I’m good.”

“Where are you?”

“On my way to Freddy’s to drop off Cynthia’s DNA. Why does your phone sound like there’s an echo?”

I didn’t want to tell Chelsey I called her while I sat on the toilet. “I don’t know. Do you want any help today?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Did Freddy tell you the DNA you collected from Lake, Martha, and Drew didn’t come back as a match?”

“Yeah, he texted me.”

I scratched my chin. “And you’re convinced Cynthia is the killer?”

“I’m seventy-five percent convinced.”

“What’s the other twenty-five percent telling you?”

“That it can’t be so easy.”

“Maybe it is.”

“If it’s Cynthia, then we solved a crime in less than a week. A crime that the police may not have solved. You might’ve been in jail and the killer might’ve never been found.”

“True. So if not Cynthia, then who?” I scratched my head.

“Pamela? Brittany?”

“Could be anyone. It could even be Geri.” I reached for the toilet paper.

“Huh. That would be interesting. Although I can’t really picture her limping in and stabbing someone. Maybe I could picture her stabbing a slab of beef.” Chelsey laughed.

“I could definitely picture Geri stabbing a slab of beef. I wonder if she was too short to be the killer.”

“Maybe. I don’t think I asked about the angle of the knife and the height of the perp. What if she was a killer all along and no one knew?” It sounded like Chelsey was seriously contemplating Geri being the murderer.

I thought about how Geri was a good cook. “She certainly knows her way around a knife.”

“Wait a minute—could we be on to something?”

“Chelsey! Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not Geri.”

“How do you know? I’m not being ridiculous. What if it was her? It would explain why she believed you weren’t a killer—because she knew who the real killer was—her!”

“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. How did she know Archie? What would be her motive?”

“Maybe she had an affair with Archie years ago…she might be one of Archie’s many lovers.”

I rolled my eyes. “I seriously doubt it. She’s been married to Frank for longer than I was born. If that was the case, Frank would’ve probably killed him long ago, and made the body disappear. You know those Italians. Cement shoes and all. He has about ten relatives that were in law enforcement. They probably would’ve helped him hide the body.”

“If you say so, Stereotyper.”

There was an awkward silence.

I changed the subject, but maybe it wasn’t a great idea on my part. “If things were different, if I wasn’t in this situation, and you were available, I would’ve liked to take you somewhere special and talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“Us.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

I sighed. “Someday, Chelsey, we are going to sit down and talk.”

“Um. Okay?”

“Let me know how your recon mission goes today.”

“I will. Are you in the bathroom? Tell me you did
not
just flush a toilet in my ear.”

I laughed. “See you soon.”

We hung up. I missed Chelsey. Tremendously. I couldn’t get her out of my head. What I didn’t understand was why she acted clueless when I said I wanted us to talk. We kissed; we had some kind of a connection. We needed to figure out what that was. And I needed to know if she wanted to figure it out with me. If she didn’t have the same feelings, I’d turn and walk away, but one way or the other, I needed to know.

Moments later, I met Frank in his cyber basement and we got to work. He listened to audio while I watched video. An hour later, I completed watching footage. I saw Carl, Drew, and Solar leave before Archie and I did, but didn’t find the elusive woman with the ring. I took over listening to Cynthia’s phone calls while Frank dug up information on Cynthia’s daughter. An hour after that, we took a break. I couldn’t stand listening to one more Mary Kay spiel—Cynthia’s part-time job. Guessing by those wiretaps, Cynthia was no killer.