Major Crimes

by Michele Lynn Seigfried

“Drew isn’t a suspect.”

  “I didn’t believe that until this morning.”

  “When are you going to trust those of us with more experience than you? Freddy retired from his PD after…how many decades of working there?”

  “Too many.”

  “Exactly. He’s seen things, his instincts are good, he’s experienced. You, my dear, are not.”

  I didn’t know what else to say or do, so I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “So mature.”

  “Get out of my car and let me do my job.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Bryce left the car.

  I wondered where he was headed. I didn’t mean to push him out, but it was for his own good. And for my own good. For all I knew, the police tailed me and saw Bryce in my car. I wondered if I should call the number on the card I was given earlier to report seeing Bryce to the officer in charge of the case. I might’ve been be able to throw them off the trail. Tell them Bryce was on his way to Mexico. It could’ve led them on a wild goose chase. But I thought better of lying to the cops. No reason to perjure myself.

  I put my car in gear and drove to my next location. Cynthia Sterling’s home. No one was there. Well that was a waste of my time! I looked at my list again. Lake was next. Who names their kid “Lake” anyway?

  Lake worked at the local frozen yogurt place. Just what I was in the mood for after lunch—something sweet. I drove the three blocks to the Coral Beach Yogurt Shop and I parallel parked out front.

  A bell jingled as I entered the door. A plump brunette behind the counter said, “Welcome to the Coral Beach Yogurt Shop. We have twenty-seven flavors. Have you been here before?”

  I knew the woman was Lake. Either she was much younger than Archie or she had found the world’s best wrinkle cream because she didn’t look a day older than thirty-five. She had gained weight since the picture was taken, but her facial features were the same, making it easy for me to recognize her.

  “I haven’t been here before.”

  “Well then welcome! I’m Lake. I own this franchise. Let me show you how this works. Here is a tasting spoon.”

  Lake handed me a tasting spoon suitable for a smurf. I wasn’t sure how much I would taste much with a flea size portion. “Thanks.”

  “What you do is take a cup and you can fill it up with any flavor or multiple flavors of yogurt and then there are toppings over there.” Lake pointed to the toppings and handed me a paper soup bowl, which must’ve been what she considered a cup.

  I nodded. I wondered if a woman who worked at a yogurt shop could be a killer. Frozen yogurt and murder didn’t seem to go hand-in-hand. Except in one of those cozy mystery novels.

  “When you’re done, bring your cup to the counter and put it on the scale. We charge you by the weight of your cup. Feel free to taste all of the yogurt flavors. My personal favorite is caramel pretzel fudge brownie.”

  I carried my cup to the yogurt dispensers.

  “Just pull the lever forward to make the machine work. Oh, and don’t put the spoon directly into the yogurt coming from the machine. Put a little yogurt in your cup first, then taste it.”

  I walked up and down the machines reading the twenty-seven flavors of yogurt. I settled on vanilla—which was symbolic of my love life. Plain and boring. I pulled the lever as directed and put a drop in my cup. I tasted it with my miniature spoon and was instantly grateful the spoon was so tiny. It was the worst vanilla frozen yogurt I ever tasted, which gave me an idea.

  “Excuse me, Lake? This vanilla tastes funny.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “I don’t think it’s about liking it or not, I think something’s wrong with it.”

  “What do you mean, wrong?”

  “Here, taste it. Let me know if this is right.”

  Lake grabbed a cup and a spoon. She moseyed over to the vanilla dispenser and put some in her cup. Using her right hand, she tasted it. I wondered if a left-handed person would’ve put the spoon in their left hand. If I could’ve gotten her DNA, left-handed, or right-handed, it wouldn’t have mattered much.

  “Tastes fine to me.”

  “Really?” It really did not taste fine.

  “Why don’t you try something else? Like the carrot pomegranate acai? Or the lemon pecan sriachi?”

  I frowned.

  “We have plain chocolate too.”

  “I’ll try that.” I dispensed the chocolate from the machine and watched as Lake put the spoon and container into the trash before walking back to the cash register.

  I reached into my purse and grabbed a plastic bag. Pulling it inside out, I reached into the garbage can and pulled out her trash. That was easy!

  “What the hell are you doing?” A raging bull was galloping toward me. “Why are you taking the cup and spoon I used?” Lake was not pleased.

  I held up my hand, which stopped her in her tracks. Huh! I need to try this move more often. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I need to stop you there.”

  “I demand to know what you’re doing!”

  “I’m with the health department. I’m taking this specimen to the lab to test it. Do you know you could be in serious trouble if you’re not serving food up to standard?” I had no idea what I was talking about or what health inspectors looked for in the food, but it was worth a shot.

  “Then why aren’t you taking your own cup for a specimen?”

  I glanced down at my cup. She had a point. “This one’s filled with chocolate.”

  “Why did you put chocolate in that one instead of just taking it when you had vanilla in it? Why didn’t you tell me you were an inspector? Where is your ID? Where is the inspector I normally deal with? Who are you? What is your name? I’m going to report you!”

  As Lake interrogated me, I backed carefully away from her, but she kept coming at me. “What is your name? Tell me your name now!”

  I backed up into the toppings display and lost my balance. Seconds later I was sprawled out in a pool of Oreo crumbs, butterscotch syrup and rainbow sprinkles. I scrambled to my feet, slipped on the fresh fruit and fell on my tush.

  “I’m calling the cops!” Lake dashed behind the register and reached for the phone. I skid out of the front door.

  Bryce was back. He was leaning against my car. His arms were folded across his chest. He burst into laughter when he saw me. “What the…?” More laughter.

  “Just shut up.”

  “Get your DNA sample, genius?” More laughter.

  “The police are probably on their way. I need to go. And you do too.”

  Bryce retreated to the Tahoe, shaking his head the entire way. I silently cursed him. Why did he have to follow me? Why did he have to see me like this? Why did he have to look so darn sexy leaning against my car?

  I sat in my car, banged my head against the steering wheel three times hoping to knock some sense into myself, then left for home.

  Chapter 22

  Bryce

  My stomach hurt. I wasn’t sure if I ever laughed so hard. Chelsey was a welcome distraction from my precarious situation. What was she thinking? I would never know. I hoped she got her sample after the debacle at the yogurt place.

  I tailed her again. She hadn’t seen me the other times I tailed her, so I didn’t think she’d notice me this time either. I hoped other cops weren’t tailing her. She certainly wouldn’t have seen them. Chelsey seemed to be driving toward her house. I couldn’t blame her. Hot fudge in her hair and strawberry syrup on her face…well, that might be a guy’s fantasy for his woman to be covered in edible sweets, but I was sure Chelsey didn’t want to spend the rest of the day as a human sundae.

  Since it was too risky for me to park near Chelsey’s house, I parked a couple of blocks away and darted through backyards, until I got to hers. I made certain her house wasn’t being watched and I entered her yard from the neighbors’. I knocked on the back door, but she didn’t answer, so I did what I did the last time I needed to get in—climbed through the kitchen window.
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  Glancing around the kitchen, there was no sign of Snickers. I was sure Snickers liked me, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Fangs digging into my flesh did not seem like something I wanted to experience. I heard the water running—the bathroom door was closed. Chelsey was singing in the shower—off-key.

  I rummaged around in Chelsey’s fridge. There wasn’t much of a choice, so I settled on a juice box and a Lunchables, and then had a seat on the couch. After shoving a piece of mystery meat in my mouth, I turned on the television and waited for Chelsey to finish cleaning up.

  The water stopped running and I looked toward the bathroom door. Chelsey walked out stark naked. I averted my eyes. “Whoops, sorry.”

  Chelsey let out a blood curdling scream and darted back into the bathroom. I might’ve heard a few obscenities escape from her lips. I wasn’t sure how to smooth this one over. She was already angry for my following her today. I could only imagine the level of her fury at the moment. Although it was pretty funny.

  Chelsey emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel with her hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”

  “You look sexy like that. And, you undeniably are All About That Bass.” I winked at her.

  “Stop changing the subject! Why are you freaking here?”

  I wasn’t actually changing the subject. I was telling the truth—she looked hot in that towel. Freaking hot. I smirked. “Freaking?”

  “Bryce! Knock it off!”

  “I came to help you.” I freaking came to help you. I laughed. “Who says freaking anyway?”

  “You’re not helping. You’re putting me at risk, you’re putting yourself at risk.”

  “I heard that lecture already today.”

  “You’re being a donkey.”

  “A donkey?”

  “I’d tell you what I really think, but I’m too polite for that.”

  “Alright, I’ll leave, but not before I tell you something.” I rose from my seat and approached Chelsey. I kept a stern look on my face.

  “What? What is it? Did something happen?”

  When I was close to her, I wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her into a kiss. I felt her tension ease.

  “You really did look hot coming out of the bathroom. I wanted to rip your towel off.” I whispered.

  Chelsey released her embrace and smacked me in the arm. “You can leave now!”

  “I was just getting started.”

  “No, you’re not getting started, you’re getting kicked out. Get out of here before the police find you here.”

  Chelsey was one tough cookie. There was no lowering her defenses. My seduction efforts were futile against her resolve.

  I kissed her on the cheek. “Give me the items you collected. I’ll get them to Frank to deliver to the DNA lab.”

  Chelsey pointed toward the kitchen table. I grabbed the three bags off the table.

  I turned back to Chelsey. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go to the next stop and help you collect evidence?”

  “No. I’ll be fine. I got three samples without your help.”

  I held up the bag with the frozen yogurt. “Despite the rocky road you took to get there.” I laughed at my joke.

  Chelsey didn’t find it humorous. “Hilarious.”

  “Seriously, are you sure I can’t help? I’m bored to tears and I can’t possibly eat any more.”

  Chelsey folded her arms. “I’m sure. I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay.” Rejected, I left through the kitchen door.

  * * *

  On the walk back to my vehicle, I scanned the area for anyone suspicious. I didn’t see anyone, so I made my way the couple of blocks back to the Tahoe. I jumped in and tossed the three bags on the passenger’s seat. I sat in the car and thought about whether I should head back to Frank’s to review more video or if I should tail Chelsey to her next location.

  As much as I had doubted Chelsey, and as much of a mess as she made in the yogurt place, I had to hand it to her. She did the job. She collected the evidence. I wasn’t sure why I doubted her. Chelsey came across as a woman who needed saving in the past. I finally realized, Chelsey didn’t need saving from anything or anyone anymore. She was the one doing the saving this time. She was the one trying to save me.

  I started the Tahoe and drove the hour back to Frank and Geri’s. It was nearly dinner time when I arrived. Screaming and shouting could be heard from their driveway. The thought of running in the opposite direction crossed my mind. But, Frank was relying on me to help him with the wiretaps. It wasn’t his job to listen to the wiretaps—it was mine, and he was helping me, so I trudged up the stairs. Reluctantly. The screaming got louder and louder. Maybe they’ll kill each other and it would suddenly be quiet again.

  There was no need to use my key—the front door was unlocked. Under normal circumstances, I’d draw my weapon if I heard that much screaming inside a house. Linda’s kids had no volume control. There was no doubt in my mind where they got their vocal cord genetics from—their grandmother.

  Ducking Nerf bullets, dodging tiny shooters, and leaping over toys, I found my way to the kitchen. “Hi Linda.”

  Linda looked stressed. “Oh, you’re still here?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I didn’t know you were still staying here.”

  “Hopefully not for long. I hate imposing on others.”

  “We brought pizza.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced around the room. “Where’s Frank?”

  “Hiding in his man cave.”

  Geri waddled in from the porch with paper plates, napkins, and cups. “Hi Bryce. We have pizza.”

  “Thanks.” I grinned. The dozen pizza boxes before me were enough to let me know there was pizza, yet not one, but two people had to tell me. An estimated nine or ten slices per person must’ve been made while calculating the amount of pizza that was needed for the evening.

  The front door crashed open. A beagle mix came bounding through the kitchen, barking at all the kids. Two adults followed the dog, yelling for him to quiet down. Short of firing a gun through the ceiling, this crowd wasn’t going to quiet down—dog included.

  Geri opened the garage door and hollered, “Frank! Frank! Frank’s here.”

  I had to assume the other Frank was Geri’s and Frank’s son.

  The young man extended a hand to me. “Hey, I’m Frankie.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I shook his hand and introduced myself to him and his wife.

  The front door crashed open again. Two more people appeared in the kitchen. The kitchen was tight to begin with and all the people didn’t fit. The door crashed open a third time—three additional adults entered. I scooted my way to the garage door to make my way to the basement. I was getting claustrophobic.

  Finding Frank, I handed him the DNA samples that Chelsey collected. Frank said he was going to drop them off at the lab in the morning.

  “Why are all the people here?” I asked.

  “It’s my youngest grandson’s birthday.”

  “Oh.” Had I known, I could’ve picked up a toy from the pharmacy. Not that I had much money left, but it would’ve been the right thing to do.

  “Listening to wire taps?”

  “Yeah. If you pull up a chair, I’ll get you set up.” Frank handed me a set of earphones, which I plugged into the computer in front of me.

  “Any luck with the wiretaps so far?”

  “I got ugatz.”

  “Whose phone line am I listening to?”

  “Lake’s.”

  Frank pulled up the audio file he wanted me to listen to and I got to work. Frank’s recording equipment turned on whenever a phone line was activated. That was great because it saved me from having to fast forward through dead air.

  Frank left the room for fifteen minutes and returned with three slices of pizza for me and a can of orange soda. He left the room again and returned with a large pizza still in the box
and a can of birch beer. “I figured I might as well bring a whole box down in case you want more.”

  I doubted I’d want more than three slices, but with the way I had been eating since I arrived at Frank’s…four or five was a distinct possibility. We ate in silence while listening to our audio recordings. Frank listened to Martha’s phone line.

  Lake’s first phone call was to her mother. She talked about the nut job at her store who trashed the place earlier in the day. I smiled. Picturing Chelsey with rainbow sprinkles in her hair amused me. She was so darn cute. A disaster, but a cute disaster.

  Lake’s next call was to her friend. She cried over Archie and wondered how another cop could’ve killed him in cold blood. Since the newspaper reporters did a wonderful job of turning me into a monster, I had to assume she was referring to me. If she only knew. She asked for her friend’s advice on attending the funeral. The friend advised her against it. Lake swore up and down that Archie’s wife didn’t know about their relationship.

  Lake was no longer a suspect in my mind. She wasn’t aware anyone was listening to her phone conversations and if she had killed him, I didn’t think she’d be so upset. She repeatedly said she loved him. I couldn’t see her to read her body language, but the tone in her voice said enough for me.

  With the noises gone from upstairs, I gathered the party was over. I rubbed my eyes and stretched my arms. “Frank, I don’t think Lake had anything to do with the crime. Do you want me to listen to Archie’s wife’s audio?”

  Frank removed his earphones. “I did that before you got back today. We can check for new calls in the morning. We’ve been at this for three hours. Let’s see if there’s any cake left.”

  We went upstairs and found the leftover cake. I sliced a couple of pieces for us. “Why was your grandson’s party here rather than at his house?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “Wasn’t Freddy invited?”

  “He was, but he’s too busy working on your case.”

  “Oh. I feel bad about that. Do you think he’s had any luck?”

  “He would’ve called if he did.”

  I looked down. My hopes were waning once more.