Major Crimes

by Michele Lynn Seigfried

  “One more question. Why didn’t you tell me this before when I asked?”

  “Because it was none of your business. The police knew, that’s why I’m not a suspect. There were plenty of people with me when Archie was murdered. I didn’t need to explain myself to you.”

  “Sorry again.”

  Drew nodded and pointed me toward the door.

  With my tail between my legs, I fled from the Garfield municipal building forever.

  Chapter 20

  Bryce

  The thought of a girl too young for Archie stuck with me as I logged on to the laptop Frank gave me. I had gotten back to Frank’s house late and crashed. Frank must’ve left the laptop in my room before I got home last night. When I opened it, I saw he left an icon on the desktop that read, “Watch me.” Frank’s sense of humor, I guessed.

  I double-clicked the icon. Video from Savoy’s started to play. The time bar on the bottom revealed the video was ten hours long. I sighed. Back at headquarters, I had rookies that could edit the video so I’d only have to watch the clips that included women. This sucks. Closing the box containing the video, I clicked on the Internet icon.

  After a few keystrokes, the website Chelsey wanted me to look at appeared on the screen. I clicked on the link for May thirty-first. Nearly seven hundred pictures began to load.

  This is going to take a while. Patience wasn’t my strong suit, so I wasn’t sure I had the patience to look through seven hundred pictures or watch ten hours of video, but I was certainly determined. I glanced at my cell phone. The time read eight thirty in the morning. I wondered if Chelsey was awake.

  I turned my attention back to the laptop. Groups of people laughing, drinking, and having a good time scrolled along the screen. It was hard to believe one of those happy people was planning a murder. There were lots of women. In theory, no one should’ve been under twenty-one. It was a bar after all. There was an off chance someone could’ve gained entrance with a fake ID. There was also a slight chance that someone underage came in for dinner and never left. They wouldn’t have been carded at the door if they were there for dinner earlier in the evening. Solar thought the woman’s age was between eighteen and twenty-five.

  Solar didn’t see anything but a woman staring at Archie. Maybe she didn’t have anything to do with the murder. If she did, all of our suspects would be ruled out. It wasn’t Archie’s teenage daughter—too young, and it wasn’t any of Archie’s ex-wives—too old. Although there was one person…the daughter of the woman Archie cheated with. She could possibly be in the age range of eighteen to twenty-five. I immediately called Chelsey to see if she found any additional information about that person. There was no answer.

  “Hey Chelsey, just wondering how you are. Had a question about the Cynthia chick. Call me back.”

  With no answer from Chelsey, I dialed Freddy to ask him.

  “Yellow.”

  “Hey, Freddy, it’s Bryce.”

  “Speak to me.”

  “Jennifer Pavlica spoke about one of Archie’s girlfriends. A Cynthia. Do you have any information on her or her daughter?”

  “I’ll check it out. Have you found something?”

  “No. Just a hunch.”

  “Chelsey said her name was Tara or Tina or something.”

  “Tina Liara?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Will you call me when you know something?”

  “Ten-four. I’ll call you back when I have the info.”

  “One more thing, do you know where Chelsey is? She’s not answering her phone.”

  “I have her collecting DNA evidence, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember, but I didn’t think Chelsey was already out doing that.”

  “Maybe not, but I have faith.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Ten-four.”

  We disconnected. I thought about the things Solar said. That someone on the police force could’ve committed the murder or that the police were covering for one of their own. That the woman staring at Archie at Savoy’s was young. Add those observations to the fact that Cynthia’s daughter’s name may be Tina, and I concluded we were too quick to dismiss Tina Liara as a suspect. I wondered how hard it would’ve been for Tina to leave her honeymoon, come back to Jersey, kill Archie, and head back to the honeymoon. Something I’d have to check.

  Another question popped into my head. Was Lake much younger than Archie? If she was at Savoy’s, she may have kept her distance because of her mistress status. The two of them wouldn’t have wanted to get caught in public together.

  I turned my attention back to the computer. I should’ve been looking through the pictures to see if I recognized anyone instead of thinking about oddball theories. Lake was on Freddy’s list for a DNA sample, so if she killed Archie, it would be proved soon enough.

  Even with enlarging the size of each photo on the laptop screen, it was difficult to see anyone familiar. I clicked to the next picture—a member of the band. I clicked on the following picture. Another band member. Click, click, click. All band members. Click, click, click, click. This is awful. Click, click, click.

  “Bryce! Frank! Breakfast!” Geri could wake the Carlsbad Caverns’ hibernating bats with her loud Italian vocal chords. It reminded me of a Facebook post I saw once that said, “I’m not screaming, I’m Italian, we all talk this way.” I smiled.

  Geri’s screaming was just in time. My appetite decided it was time for a break. Plus, I was fidgety. I stretched my arms above my head. I had only made it through two hundred pictures of the computer slideshow, and I had a lot more to look at—after I ate.

  A mile-high stack of pancakes, a gallon jug of maple syrup, and a five pound box of blueberries awaited my arrival in the kitchen. Geri was busy cooking eggs at the stove.

  “How do you like your eggs, Bryce?”

  I thought about how I’d eat everything Geri wanted me to eat. “Scrambled.” I’d skip the toast.

  “Scrambled it is. The blueberries are from Hammonton.”

  I wondered if Geri had driven the hour south to Hammonton, New Jersey, the “Blueberry Capital of the World.”

  “I found them at ShopRite.” Mystery solved. Geri did not drive to Hammonton.

  I grabbed a plate, forked a pancake onto it, and reached for the maple syrup. I jumped out of my skin when I heard the deep voice behind me.

  “That’s all you’re having?” Frank looked disgusted at my selection of a lone pancake.

  “To start. Geri’s making me eggs.”

  “I might need your help later, Bryce.”

  “Sure, Frank, anything.”

  “Freddy had me wiretap various phones.”

  Since Frank wasn’t law enforcement, I wondered if wiretap evidence would hold up in court. I didn’t voice what I was thinking.

  “And you want me to help listen to the tapes later.”

  “Yup.”

  “No problem. I can probably listen to the audio and check out the Savoy’s video at the same time.”

  Even if I wasn’t patient, I was good at multi-tasking. Plus, I hated listening to wiretaps. I spent countless days doing that for work. Where the hell are my rookies?

  “Maybe after dinner.” Frank grabbed a plate and transferred five pancakes onto it.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  After breakfast, I turned my attention back to the photos from Savoy’s. Looking at twenty-something-year-old women in skimpy clothing throwing themselves at the band members was annoying. Men holding up their beer bottles with their drunken facial expressions were even more annoying. The photos of women sticking their tongues out and the men fist pumping created an entirely new dimension of disgust for me. I decided I was done with bars forever. Not that I felt like I was better than anyone else, but with being nearly a decade older than everyone else at the bar, I felt like I was too old to enjoy those things. What I really wanted was to settle down and start a family. With jail time staring me in the face, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have what
I wanted.

  An hour later, I was down to the last drunk girl’s photo and I hadn’t spotted anyone familiar. I also didn’t see any photos of myself or Archie. The band played in a different room than where we spent the evening, so the photos didn’t help. There went a ton of hours of my life that I’d never get back. Considering those hours could’ve been some of my last as a free man, I was disheartened.

  Pulling at strings to prove my innocence, I typed “Tina Liara” into the computer. I found her Facebook picture. I didn’t recall seeing her at Savoy’s that night. In studying the few photos that were visible to the public, I realized she was much taller than the figure appearing at the deli in the Ford Focus. The other thing I noticed was that she was a blonde. The rest of the female suspects were brunettes. The other suspects were mostly Archie’s love interests. It was clear to me that Archie had a “type,” so to speak. I would have loved to know if the police found any hairs at the scene of the crime. With me as their main suspect, I doubted it.

  Having had enough of sitting at a computer, it was time for me to take action. I grabbed a quick shower and left the house with my glasses and hoodie. I wasn’t sure where Chelsey would go first. I looked up the suspects’ names on the Internet. I couldn’t find Cynthia’s address, but I found Martha’s work address. I headed there first, since I figured that Chelsey would end up there at some point.

  * * *

  The hour drive to the shore area was relaxing for me. I gave my situation a lot of thought. I felt like I was on an emotional Batman ride at Six Flags. Up and down, up and down, round and round. I was down that morning, but my mood was turning more hopeful. I had faith that Freddy would find enough evidence to create reasonable doubt.

  It was nearly noon when I reached the office building where Martha worked. It was a three-story, red-brick building with its own parking lot. I grabbed a parking spot between two SUVs to blend in. I rolled down the windows, switch off the ignition, and waited.

  Glancing around, I made a mental inventory of my surroundings. No one had tailed me—that was good. There were four rows of cars. Fifty or so people must’ve been in the building. A few decorative plants adorned the front entrance. The scene was uninteresting. In the process of wondering why the architects didn’t design something more visually appealing, I saw Chelsey pull into the lot.

  Given that she didn’t notice me, I once again doubted her private investigation skills. She had a lot to learn or she’d be on the path to finding a new career. I sat tight and watched. When Chelsey moved, I would follow.

  If, by any miracle, my innocence was proven, I planned on giving Chelsey some pointers to help her as an investigator. That was the least I could do in exchange for her help. She had done so much for me already. I owed her.

  Chapter 21

  Chelsey

  My list of suspects was down to Pamela, Brittany, Lake, Cynthia, and Martha. I wasn’t sure where to start. I put my car in gear and drove back to the shore from Garfield. With half the day already wasted, I dug through my purse and found the papers with the information on the women.

  Martha worked as a secretary at an engineering firm. I plugged her address into my GPS. I thought I could scope out the place and hoped that Martha would leave for lunch. An hour later, the GPS told me my destination was on the right.

  Parking toward the back of the lot where Martha wouldn’t notice me, I reviewed Freddy’s notes. There was a picture of Martha, so I’d know her if I saw her. Her home address and her work information were the only other items on the paper. Freddy was a minimalist. Never gave me more information than he thought I needed to know.

  My stomach growled. I had forgotten to eat breakfast. C’mon Martha. Go to lunch so I can get something for myself to eat. It was as if she read my mind, because she exited the building.

  I started my car and put it in gear in order to follow her. Martha left the parking lot and drove to a strip mall four miles away. I stayed several car lengths behind, not that she was looking for a tail, but one could never be sure.

  Martha parked, unloaded her laundry, and dropped it off at the dry cleaners. I wondered if I could get DNA by stealing a shirt of hers or something. I wasn’t sure there’d be DNA on it though, unless she was a drooler. Was she a drooler? Nah, she didn’t look like a drooler. Or was she?

  Martha’s frizzy dark hair bounced as she walked. She didn’t go back to her car, though. She went into the pizza place next door. Bingo! I turned off the car and went inside the pizza place too.

  Martha stood at the counter and ordered two veggie slices and a water. I ordered a slice of buffalo chicken pizza with a diet soda. I knew it was a lot of calories, but I was famished. We both paid and waited next to each other while our slices heated up.

  I thought about striking up a conversation with her, and I remembered Freddy told me not to engage. But, the urge was worse than a moose to a muffin. I bit my bottom lip trying not to say hello.

  Our slices were ready. Martha took hers and sat at a booth near the door. I picked up my slice and soda and sat a couple of booths behind her. I hoped to grab her cup out of the garbage when she left. I looked at the enormous garbage can by the door. I glanced around at all the patrons. Grabbing a cup out of the trash may not have been my best idea. It would’ve been easily contaminated. I sighed. How was I going to get her cup?

  I watched as Martha lifted the cup toward her mouth and drank from her straw. She grabbed the cup with her right hand. Did that mean she was right-handed? If it did, it would mean she wasn’t the murderer.

  I scarfed down my slice, got up from my seat, and walked over to Martha’s table. I sat down.

  “Hi. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t help but notice your brooch. Is that cameo a blue agate?”

  Martha chewed her food and swallowed. “Yes, it is blue agate.”

  “It is simply gorgeous. My mother would love something like that. Her birthday is coming up. Where did you find it?”

  Martha instinctively touched the brooch with her right hand. “Oh, I bought this one at a store in St. Martin.” She whispered, “Duty free shopping.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I love St. Martin. I got a beautiful watermelon topaz ring from there—cheap.”

  “Oh, a girl after my own heart. I also got these sapphire earrings from St. Martin. Aren’t they gorgeous?”

  “They are! I love them.” I wondered how I could grab a napkin from her without looking like a total weirdo. I looked at my watch. “Oh my, it’s nearly one. Are you going back to work as well?”

  “Oh yes, I have to head out.”

  “I’m so sorry to have taken up your lunch break.”

  “Not a problem at all. It was nice to meet you…” Martha held out her hand.

  “Chelsey.” I shook her extended hand.

  “Martha.”

  “Nice to meet you too. Let me take this for you.” I grabbed her plate containing her dirty napkins and walked to the garbage. She followed me. When it was apparent Martha wasn’t leaving until I disposed of the trash, I place the dish and napkins on top of the garbage can and dug through my purse for my phone. Pretending to answer, I waved adieu to Martha. She left with her cup in her hand.

  I rummaged through my purse again for a baggie. I grabbed a gallon-sized one and dumped the paper plate and all of its contents in the bag together, marking it “Martha” before I left. Those actions garnered a strange stare from some of the diners and a busboy. I didn’t care. I got what I came for and in my mind, I had confirmation Martha wasn’t the killer—she was right-handed.

  I turned on my heels and scurried away before someone asked me what I was doing. Back in my car, I started the engine and pondered my next move. I took out Freddy’s notes and looked up Cynthia Sterling. Looking at her photo, I realized that Martha, Drew’s sister, Lake, and Cynthia all had the same look about them. Big brown eyes, medium frame, and brown hair. Archie was certainly attracted to similar looking women.

  A figure appeared at my pas
senger window, then jumped into my car. I panicked. I thought it was a carjacker. When he removed his hood, I saw it was Bryce.

  I punched him in the arm. “What are you doing here? Are you crazy? The cops searched my house this morning looking for you. You’re going to cause both of our butts to be handed to us on a silver platter. Why didn’t you stay at Frank’s house like you were told?”

  “Now there’s my queen of clichés. I love it when you talk so condescendingly.”

  “Bryce, c’mon, I’m serious. We’re close to cracking this case wide open. You need to be more careful than this. You’re going to get both of us in deep trouble.”

  “I missed you.”

  I eyed him up and down. “Doubtful.”

  “I truly did.”

  I wasn’t sure if I believed Bryce. It hadn’t been that long since I saw him. Certain there was enough chaos at Frank’s house to entertain him, I thought he wanted me around out of necessity, if anything.

  “I came to help with DNA collection.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “You’re looking at one of the best detectives in the county. It wasn’t hard to find you.”

  “If you’re such a great detective, how come you haven’t solved this case yet?”

  Bryce’s look hardened. My words had stung. I changed the subject. “Freddy told you to stay put. I can’t be seen with you. What if someone recognizes you?”

  “Chelsey, I have tons of experience collecting DNA from suspects. Are you going to trust me?”

  “No.” I folded my arms.

  “And how much experience do you have at this?”

  “Two.”

  “What?”

  “Two.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I grabbed the bags of evidence I had placed on the floor behind the passenger’s seat and held them up for Bryce. “One. Two.”

  Bryce laughed at me. “And who are they from?”

  “Drew and Martha.”