by Dawn Dugle
Then everything would be better.
∞∞∞
Chapter Eight
SATURDAY
Faith called me the next morning on my way into the station telling me to bring her a latte, and I complied. She had pulled an all-nighter to finish the autopsy and looked like the female version of Albert Einstein. Her short blonde hair stood up in different directions, and she had the crazy eyes down. She was also talking a mile a minute.
I wasn't sure she needed more caffeine, but plunked the latte down on her desk anyway. "What's the haps girlfriend?"
"Take a look at these," she plunked a set of photographs in front of me. "Those are the regular autopsy photos, but I wanted you to take a look at what I pulled out of her body."
I flipped to a picture of a silver piece of metal.
"The murder weapon is unusual. It has an asymmetrical blade, about three inches long," she explained, pointing to the piece. "This is the tip of it."
"It looks tiny," I studied the picture.
"It is, and here's the interesting part. It's stainless steel and flexible."
"What? How flexible?"
"Like Gumby flexible."
"Seems like a weird choice for a knife. What sort of blade is made out of stainless steel and bendy like that?"
"Dunno. That's for you cops to figure out," Faith sipped her latte and winked at me. "Personally, I can't wait to figure out what caused this."
"You're a ghoul."
"It's scientific curiosity! I didn't kill her!"
"So if we find something that's missing the tip of its three-inch, asymmetrical flexible blade, we'll have the murder weapon?" I asked.
“Precisely.
∞∞∞
I got to morning roll call two minutes early, and slid a cappuccino in front of Bodie.
"You are a GODDESS among men," he smiled and winked at me as he took his first sip of heaven.
"You say that to all your partners," I lightly punched his shoulder.
"True."
"Listen up squad!" Kirk bellowed from the front of the room. "The big priority is the murder of Claire Rousseau. Grimes and Tripp are lead detectives on the case and will bring us up to speed on their investigation."
Detective Diana Grimes outranked my brother, so she took to the podium and pulled out her notebook.
"Between midnight and one a.m., Thursday into Friday, someone stabbed Claire Rousseau in the jugular with an asymmetrical blade, about three inches long. Her cause of death is exsanguination, but the post-mortem bruising on her body suggests the killer kicked her repeatedly. The victim was also wearing a charm bracelet that had DNA on it."
"The DNA is from a suspect who was seen arguing with her earlier in the day. Her business manager Lucio Nelson," my brother added. "He is a former Marine whose specialty was knives and explosives in the Corps. We're about to execute a search warrant for his house and car right now. Sergeant Ward and Officer Davis will be assisting. Any questions?"
This is the first time my brother had ever picked me for his team, so I would be damned if I would ask any questions to derail that.
"All right, let's roll!" Tripp said.
∞∞∞
I was driving, so Bodie read me the credentials of our Dirtbag Du Jour. "This guy is something else, Wys. Barely graduated high school, he became a Marine with an expertise in knives and explosives, but it says here he had a Bad Conduct Discharge."
"What for?"
Bodie flipped through the printouts. "A large cache of weapons and C-4 disappeared under his watch. Four of the guys in his platoon were found guilty of the theft and received a Dishonorable Discharges and are still serving time in federal prison. But Nelson only got the BCD."
"Think he snitched on them?"
"I think he was into some pretty bad shit, from the looks of it. Which is too bad."
I glanced at my partner. "Why too bad?"
Bodie smiled. "Because he looks like an underwear model."
"Ted Bundy was good looking and charismatic and look what he did," I kept my eyes on the road. "This guy's neighbors will probably tell reporters - 'he seemed like such a nice guy.'"
Bodie closed the file and sat back in his seat.
"Chief is getting a lot of heat to bring this one to close."
"What do your instincts tell you?" Bodie asked me.
I had tuned out the question, because as we drove closer to the address on the warrant, I started to get a sense of déjà vu from Hell. I knew this area. I had just done the run of shame down these streets a day earlier.
My heart started pounding, my mouth went dry and a cold sweat dripped down my back. "What's the address again?"
"232 L..."
"Langley Drive?" I finished.
Bodie turned and looked at me with his eyebrows raised. "What did you do?"
My heart was thudding so hard, all I could hear was a roaring in my ears and I was saved from having to answer him as we arrived at the house. It was bigger than I remembered.
My brother took the front, his partner went around back and prepared to serve the warrant. We were just there as backup.
Tripp knocked on the door and shouted: "Flamingo Cove Police, Mr. Nelson! We have a warrant to search your home! Open up!"
When no one answered, Tripp kicked in the door and barged in, shouting out his credentials again. Diana shoved her way in the back door. Bodie headed inside after Tripp shouted for him.
I was standing outside on the sidewalk, feeling like I had stepped into the Twilight Zone, when I noticed the most beautiful muscular legs climbing out of a window on the side of the house. The God Among Men was slipping out the bathroom window, wearing only boxer briefs. My jaw dropped as he hit the ground, and I was gobsmacked once again. He was wet from head to toe and more handsome than I remembered.
He jogged up to where I stood on the sidewalk. "Wysdom, what are you doing here?"
Here we were, in the bright sunlight. Him standing in nothing but boxer briefs, and me in my police uniform with a shocked expression on my face. Yet, he acted like it was as normal as could be. Until he looked down to see my hand on my gun, he backed away from me and took off running.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Stop, police!" I took off after him. "Damn it. Mr. Nelson, stop running. It doesn't look good!"
He turned around and looked at me, and started running faster. But I knew something he didn't know. A shortcut. I had taken it during my own run of shame nearly 24 hours ago. I cut down an alley, and came out mere seconds ahead of him on the street, tripping him as he ran past me. He went sprawling and landed on his beautiful, God-created face. I pulled my weapon and aimed at his head.
"Lucio Nelson, you're under arrest.”
∞∞∞
Chapter Nine
The God Among Men sat calmly at the table in the interrogation room. We had kept him there for hours while detectives combed through his house, looking for anything that would tie him to the crime scene.
I studied Lucio Nelson from behind a two-way mirror. I was having a hard time coming to terms with the guy I had met Thursday night and the guy in the file folder. He didn't strike me as a bad dude. I thought he seemed honorable and above-board. Genuine. Maybe that was my heart doing some wishful thinking again, but my gut didn't contradict it.
I watched Tripp and Diana entered the room. My brother was holding a file folder that I knew probably contained nothing but blank paper. He loved being the bad cop. And being so full of shit, it came naturally to him.
Diana always got to use her nurturing side and I often wondered what it would look like if she let her inner bad cop come out to play. She's repressed it for so long, I'd like front row seats and popcorn to that party.
"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Nelson?" She asked.
"Claire is dead." The God Among Men said without any emotion.
Diana nodded. "Yes. You were seen arguing with her on the day she died."
"We had a disagreement over th
e direction of her business. She had been talking some crazy nonsense, and I was trying to talk her out of it," he shook his head.
"Is that why you killed her, because she was talking crazy?" My brother offered.
"I didn't kill her."
"Your DNA was found on her body." Tripp stated, opening up his folder. From my vantage point I could see that there were no papers at all in that folder. Shocker.
"Was it on the charm bracelet? Because I gave that to her last week," The God Among Men remained calm. "It was a belated Christmas gift."
Tripp slapped the folder shut and smacked his hand down on the table. "You might want to come clean with us, Mr. Nelson. We're going over every square inch of your home right now and when we find the crime scene, or even a speck of Claire Rousseau's DNA, you're going to be under arrest."
"I'm not under arrest right now?"
"You're being held for suspicion of murder and evading police," Tripp said.
"I want to speak to Officer Wysdom," The God Among Men crossed his arms.
Tripp glared at him. "Sergeant Ward is busy right now."
Nelson calmly sat back in his chair and looked toward the mirror in the room. The two-way mirror that I was standing right behind. It felt like he looked right at me. My stomach fluttered and I flushed. Damn hormones.
"Fine. I'll wait for Sergeant Ward, but I'm not talking to anyone else."
My brother started to protest, and Diana just touched his arm and cocked her head toward the door. They left and entered the room where I was frowning at the glass.
"Why in the Sam Hill would a murder suspect want to speak to you, Wysdom?" My brother growled.
"Don't know." It wasn't a lie, because I really didn't know. What I did know was that my brother didn't need to know how I spent Thursday night. Or Friday morning.
"Did they find any evidence at the house?" I asked.
"There was blood in the bedroom," Diana said.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Oh?" I tried to sound casual.
"A drop of blood," Diana went on. "But it wasn't the same blood type as the victim, so we aren't going to test it for DNA."
Thank you, Sweet Baby Oprah.
"Then what evidence do you have on him?" I asked. "You found DNA on the victim?"
"As you know, he was right about the charm bracelet. His skin cells were found on it, but there was no other DNA found on the body that didn't belong to the victim," Tripp ran his fingers through his thinning hair.
"Stabbing someone in the jugular would be a messy crime scene, and you didn't find huge pools of blood at his house, right?"
"That only means he didn't kill her there. But until we have more evidence, it looks like we're going to have to let him go. The only reason he's here is because he took off running," Diana added. "Innocent people don't run."
"Maybe you startled him?" I asked. "If someone was breaking down my door first thing in the morning, I'd probably run too."
Tripp glared at me. It was his go-to move. "That's ridiculous and you know it, Wys. We are going to keep him 48 hours while we search for evidence. He asked for you, so maybe you can go in there and talk him into confessing for the crime? Save us all a little trouble."
A crime I don't think he committed, but I didn't say that to my brother. I simply nodded and walked next door.
Lucio Nelson, A God Among Men, looked up at me when I opened the door and his different-colored eyes sparkled as he smiled at me.
"Hello again, Wysdom."
"Mr. Nelson..." I pulled out a chair to sit down at the table.
"Luke, please."
"Luke." I nodded.
"It's good to see you again. Can we talk off the record?"
"There's no such thing as 'off the record' when you're talking to a cop."
Damn it. Even here in this industrial green room that always smelled like disinfectant, vomit and urine, Luke Nelson looked and smelled good enough to eat. Someone had given him jeans and a shirt to wear, a shirt that stretched over his toned pecs and strong muscular arms and... Damn hormones!
I cleared my throat and reached under the table to hit the button that would turn off the microphones and cameras that were recording the room.
"Cameras and microphones are off, Luke." I leaned on the table. "What the hell?"
"I didn't kill Claire," he started.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because we were together the night of her murder. That makes you my alibi."
"If I hadn't passed out after we arrived at your house, I would be a great alibi, but as it stands, I couldn't testify for certain that you stayed in the house after I fell asleep," I explained.
Luke looked hurt. "I thought we had a connection."
"That doesn't matter here. We're talking about evidence and people who don't know you. Right now, if I came forward, not only could the alibi be blown out of the water by a rookie prosecutor, my career would be DOA... dead on arrival."
Luke winced.
"Poor choice of words," I apologized. "I'm already on thin ice around here and this could get me kicked off the force before you can say 'sleeping with a suspect.'"
"We only slept. Nothing else. I want you to be fully aware when we finally have sex," that grin nearly melted me right were I sat. Damn hormones. Focus, Wys!
"It's not going to matter to my boss or the Chief of Police," I shook my head.
Luke pointed to my name tag. "Are you related to Chief Ward?"
"He's my dad."
"And Detective Ward?"
"Which one?"
"Wow. Family business. I get it," He laughed his foreplay laugh. Damn it. Why did that sound cause chills to run up and down my spine and my lady parts to get overheated?
"Four generations of cops. I'm the only one who hasn't made detective yet. Still a sergeant," I pointed to my sleeve.
"You seem smarter than the other Ward who was just in here," Luke prompted.
"Well, that's because I am."
"Then, you'll help me clear my name?"
"They have a lot of circumstantial evidence against you, Luke. But because you ran from me, they're going to hold you for 48 hours. The earliest you'll get out of here is Monday morning. Why did you run?"
"I didn't hear the knock at the door. I was in the shower and all I knew was someone was breaking into my house," Luke explained. It was a good explanation.
"Then why did you run from me?" I asked.
"Why did you run from me on Friday?" He countered.
"Touché."
"Nice move with cutting through the alley. Even I didn't see that coming," he beamed with pride. "Told you - beautiful and smart!"
"When you're a woman in this line of work, you need every advantage," I looked down to his hands that were bandaged. "I'm sorry you got banged up when I tripped you."
He reached out and touched the cut on my cheek. "I'm sorry you got hurt on your birthday."
I leaned back. The cameras and microphones weren't on, but my brother was still watching on the other side of the glass. "They're watching."
"Sorry. I kind of forgot they were there."
Damn that bedroom voice.
I crossed my arms and looked at him. He had raised an eyebrow at me, but those mismatched eyes were sparkling as I considered his request to help him. Did I think this guy was a murderer? My gut said no, but I've been wrong before. Sticking my neck out for this stranger, no matter how unbelievably hot he was, could be the death of my career.
But I couldn't just leave him to twist in the wind. I knew what that was like and it sucked big donkey balls. Add in this out-of-nowhere pull between us, I knew I wasn't going to just walk away from this.
I sighed and tried to give him a stern look, but this was a God Among Men and my mortal powers were useless here. "Look. I will do everything I can to help clear your name, but I would appreciate it if you would keep our involvement to yourself for a little while."
"I promise," he drew an "x" over his heart. "Cro
ss my heart."
"I will tell them eventually, but it's not going to be right this second. Will you be okay here this weekend?"
"If you had seen some of the god-forsaken places I have slept while serving our country, you'd know this is The Ritz compared to that," he smiled his thousand watt smile again. God, he had such straight teeth. And those lips, those soft lips I can still feel on my neck and my mouth. I shook my head and cleared my throat again.
"Before I, ah, turn everything on again, tell me - what were you arguing about with Claire?"
"She was getting tired of being an abstract artist and wanted to retire," Luke said.
I frowned. "That doesn't sound like something that should be an argument."
"Normally it isn't. But it was the thing she wanted to do with her retirement that frustrated me. She wanted to mass produce her artwork."
"Like posters?"
"She wouldn't tell me because the deal hadn't been finalized yet. I yelled at her that I was her business manager and had an expertise in contract negotiation, that she shouldn't be giving away her rights without me looking at the paperwork first," he shook his head.
"So you were arguing with her, because you were worried about her?"
"Exactly."
I sat back in the chair, not knowing what to make of this. It was going to be hard to prove his innocence, circumstantial evidence or not, if I wasn't investigating the murder. Tripp set his sights on Luke as the killer and when he got something into his stupid head, he wouldn't change his mind.
"I'll do my best," I told him again. "Here we go."
I reached under the table and turned on the recordings again.
"Mr. Nelson, I suggest you get yourself a good lawyer," I said.
"Sergeant Ward, I am a lawyer," he smiled.
What? That was news to me, but I just nodded and calmly walked back into the viewing room. Total chaos reigned as Tripp yelled at the IT guys. They alternated between pulling wires and scratching their heads.
"Everything is connected correctly," one of them told my brother.
"Then why can't we hear anything?" Tripp grumbled.
