Chuck Sardo, one of the lab techs, poked his head into the detective’s office and rapped lightly on the door frame.
“Detective Beckett… if you have a minute, I have the lab results back in the Lee case,” he announced. “We’re still waiting for the stuff from the coroner, but I can give you what we’ve got so far.”
“Sure, Chuck. Have a seat,” Chas stretched, rolling his neck from side to side, hoping that the lab results would make the case easier to solve rather than more difficult. “What do we have?”
The tech handed over a copy of the report so that the detective could follow along as he walked him through it.
“Well, I found fingerprints on the pocket knife, as well as a bit of DNA.”
“And?”
“And they belong to a Steven Stoughton.”
“Loud Steve,” Chas sighed, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry?” Chuck was confused.
“Nothing. Go on.”
“There were hairs in the victim’s bedroom that were a DNA match for Petaluma Myers, and the weapon recovered at Steven Stoughton’s residence had traces of the victim’s blood on it.”
The detective nodded, thinking.
“What about the necklace?”
“The necklace had a partial print on it that we haven’t been able to match to anything in the database,” Chuck replied.
“And the two samples of hair that I gave you yesterday?”
“One was a match for Petaluma Myers, the other wasn’t in our database.”
Chas frowned and closed the manila folder, lost in though.
“Thanks. Let me know when the coroner’s labs come in,” the detective said absently, staring into space.
CHAPTER 14
Chas Beckett was really not looking forward to this particular interview, but he had to ensure justice was served in the Nari Lee case, so he stuck one finger out and rang Loud Steve’s doorbell. Petaluma answered the door and made an angry sound the moment that she saw him.
“Oh no, not you again! I’m so sick of seeing cops at my door, this is harassment. I don’t care if Grayson thinks you’re the next best thing to sliced bread, I will press charges and sue you for every dime you’ve got. I’m a citizen, you can’t treat me like this,” she railed, and Chas was pleased to see that, while irate, she seemed sober.
“Ms. Myers, I’m simply here to talk to you. There are several pieces of evidence linking you to Nari Lee’s murder, and if you didn’t do it, we need to sit down and figure out how and why that happened,” the detective explained calmly, wedging his foot in the door frame so that she couldn’t close the door.
“You mean you came to your senses and think I’m innocent?” she narrowed her eyes.
“I’m willing to give you another chance to go through your story and see if there’s anything that you haven’t told me.”
“Baby, what’s goin’ on out there?” Steve rumbled up behind Petaluma, putting his hands protectively on her shoulders.
“This cop that my son is so fond of wants to talk to me again.”
“Actually, I’d like to talk to both of you if you don’t mind?”
“Bout what?” Steve’s tone was borderline belligerent.
“About whether you’d like to cooperate with me in finding out the truth or whether you’d like to go back to jail right now,” Chas raised an eyebrow.
Steve let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Let him in, let’s get this over with. Those bunks at the jail make my lower back hurt,” he muttered, heading toward the living room.
The three of them sat in a crumb-strewn, humid living room.
“Do you have a pearl-handled pocket knife?” Chas asked Steve point-blank.
“Yup, sure do. Little bitty thing. Had it since I was a kid. Keep it on my nightstand, cuz you never know when it might come in handy for openin’ a bag of chips or something. Why?”
“Can you go get it for me?” the detective asked.
“All right, but it ain’t big enough to give you much more than a paper cut,” Steve muttered, lumbering toward the bedroom.
“Have you had any other strange or suspicious encounters since the day of the murder?” Chas asked Petaluma while Steve was out of the room.
“Nope, life’s been pretty quiet around here. We’ve just been spending some quality time together if you know what I mean,” she gave Chas a lopsided grin.
“I can’t find the dang thing,” Steve came back into the room, a bit out of breath. “I looked on the night stand, in it, and on the floor. Did you borrow it, sugarcakes?”
“Nope, haven’t seen it. Hey, has anything weird happened around her since that girl got killed?”
“Depends on your definition of weird,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Petaluma, who giggled. “There was that one hostile delivery guy that came by though, did he ever give you the food?”
“Hostile delivery guy?” Chas interrupted before she could answer.
“Yeah, this dude had an attitude problem and was talking nonsense. I don’t think he even gave us our Chinese food.”
“What do you mean by “talking nonsense?” the detective leaned forward.
“He was hollerin’ somethin’ about us being sorry, but he hadn’t even asked for the money yet, and we tried to pay him.
“Can you describe him?”
Steve and Petaluma gave as much of a description as they could, their memories fogged by alcohol.
“Yeah, he was a nasty one,” Petaluma nodded. “Grabbed me by the shoulder and darn near tore my hair out. He had some serious anger issues. So now what? You gonna take us to jail again? I hope y’all got better food this time around, that meat loaf was the saddest thing I ever saw.”
“No, I may be back to ask you some more questions though, so just sit tight for a bit,” Chas advised.
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere, ’cept maybe to the fridge for more beers,” she giggled, casting adoring glances at the belching man beside her.
***
Chas sat at his desk, thinking that he’d just confirmed his worst suspicions, but not wanting to believe it.
Chuck Sardo appeared in his doorway again. “Hey, Detective. I’ve got the report back from the coroner, and we’ve found some interesting coincidences in the evidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Chas remarked, taking the report. “What do we have?”
“A few notable things. The hair samples that you provided match both the ones that the coroner found and the ones that were found in the victim’s bedroom. All of this may or may not be interesting, depending upon where your hair samples came from. Some belong to Petaluma Myers, others match each other, but aren’t known in the database. We also traced a footprint that was near the bush where the murder weapon was found, to a highly expensive Italian shoe, size nine. Might want to check the size of Logan Greitzer’s feet,” Sardo suggested.
Chas nodded, staring down at the report without seeing it, his mind buzzing and whirring as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. “Did we get the video surveillance tapes from the bar where the bloody linens were found in the dumpster?”
“Yeah, strange thing about that. The uniforms who went over there spoke with every person on staff and everyone denied making the call. The one male bartender and manager that they have were working that night, and footage from inside the bar shows that they couldn’t have made the call. The rest of the staff is female, which makes me wonder who called in the anonymous tip and said that they were a bartender? Looks like Logan again.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” the detective sighed.
“There’s one other thing that could be pretty important.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“The victim was pregnant. The DNA test that the coroner did on the fetus matched the unknown hair sample DNA, and the unknown blood sample at the scene.”
Chas let out a breath. “Okay. Thanks, Chuck,” he said, dismissing the tech.
T
he detective reviewed the tape from the bar, reviewed additional surveillance from the flower shop, and knew what he had to do.
***
“Mr. and Mrs. Lee… there’s been a break in the case that I’d like to share with you, may I come in?” Detective Chas Beckett stood on the doorstep of the Lee residence.
“Of course, please come in,” Mrs. Lee gestured for him to follow her, looking anxious. “Can I get you some tea?” she asked, while the detective seated himself in the living room with her husband.
“No, I’m fine, thanks, but I’m wondering if you might be able to answer a few questions for me.”
“Of course, anything we can do to help,” Mr. Lee agreed quickly. “You said you had a break in the case?”
“Yes, we’ll get to that,” Chas assured him as Mrs. Lee sat on the couch with her husband. “Mrs. Lee, did you realize that your daughter was pregnant at the time of her death?”
The color drained from her face. “It was that horrible boy wasn’t it? It was that awful Logan Greitzer, he killed my daughter and my grandchild,” she whispered, her hands going to her throat in horror.
“I’m sorry, I know this must be a horrible shock for you,” the detective said quietly before continuing. “Mrs. Lee, how would you characterize your marriage?” he asked, clearly surprising them.
“My marriage?” she was clearly puzzled and reached for Jeong’s hand. “We have a good marriage… what does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m sorry, Detective, but that question is out of line for a grieving family. What are you thinking?” Mr. Lee frowned, clutching his wife’s hand.
“I’m thinking that your relationship with your stepdaughter may have been a bit strained, Mr. Lee. Would you say that’s a fair assessment?” Chas stared him down.
“Nari was a pretty typical young adult, she resisted authority and rules on occasion, but I wouldn’t say our relationship was strained,” Jeong shook his head. “Why would you say such a thing at a time like this?”
“Did you ever argue?”
“Don’t all parents and kids?”
“Did the conflict ever become physical?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sputtered. “You need to tell us what the break in the case is and then leave. I won’t have you insulting my family while we grieve.
“You want to know about the break in the case? I’ll tell you about the break in the case. I’ve discovered, through a substantial amount of evidence, who your daughter’s killer is,” he addressed Mrs. Lee.
“Mr. Lee, you disappeared for about an hour while we were investigating your home, right before you and Mrs. Lee left town. Can you tell me where you were?”
“Of course. I was trying to be helpful, I went to get a copy of the videotape from the floral shop surveillance, in case there were any clues on it. I turned it over to you immediately.”
“Did you? Or did you watch it while you were still in the shop?”
Jeong blinked for a moment. “Well, obviously I reviewed the footage at the shop. How could I have known that there was a suspicious interaction if I didn’t see the tape?”
“And then you went to the visitor’s log and saw the names of the three ladies who had been in the shop for a consultation that day.”
“Yes, I thought you might need to speak with them.”
“Then you tracked down Petaluma Myers and confronted her.”
“I did no such thing,” Jeong protested, growing visibly agitated.
“Sure you did. You confronted Petaluma, and when you met her you figured she’d be an easy suspect to setup. You made certain that when she walked away from you, you pulled out some strands of her hair, so that you could come back here and plant them in your stepdaughter’s room. Sometime after that, you went back to the house where Petaluma was staying, and I’m guessing that you broke in when no one was home.”
“This is ridiculous, I won’t stand for…” Jeong rose to his feet, red-faced.
“You’re right, Jeong, you won’t stand. You’re going to sit down and let me finish,” Chas stood and towered over him until he sat. His wife didn’t take his hand this time.
“When you broke into the house, you planted Nari’s necklace behind the dresser—it had your fingerprint on it—and you took a pocketknife that you later claimed you had found in your stepdaughter’s bedroom, and turned it in as evidence.”
“My husband would never do such a thing, Detective. He loved Nari, he would never…”
“That’s not all he did, Mrs. Lee. The murder weapon, which was taken from your kitchen and had your daughter’s DNA on it, was found buried under a bush behind the house that he broke into. You know what else was under that bush, Mrs. Lee? A shoeprint. A size nine shoeprint from an Italian shoe that looks just like that,” Chas pointed to Jeong’s cordovan loafers.
“That’s ridiculous. I didn’t kill Nari, it had to be that boy she was dating. He always seemed violent,” Mr. Lee found his voice again.
“Yes, you thought that you were one step ahead of us by implicating Logan Greitzer as the killer, but you weren’t quite as careful as you thought you were. You called in an anonymous tip and claimed to be a bartender at the bar where the linens from Nari’s bed were found in the dumpster. We knew we’d been set up when we interviewed the only two male employees of that bar and watched video of their movements on the night in question, which proved that neither one of them could have made the call. What you didn’t know, was that they had cameras recording the rear of the bar by the dumpsters as well. When we saw the figure on the video, wouldn’t you know, it looked an awful lot like the figure who had been on video at the floral shop. So you tried to set up Logan and you tried to set up Petaluma to point us in the wrong direction, and you succeeded for a while,” Chas regarded the stepfather darkly.
“But, he loved Nari… how do you know it was him. It could’ve been anyone? He loved her,” Mrs. Lee protested, tears running down her cheeks.
“Mrs. Lee, I’m sorry, but we found hair samples of your husband’s at the crime scene, in the bathroom where the body was found, and at the residence where Petaluma Myers is staying. We know it was him, because when he came to see me at the station, I took his jacket to hang it up. On the jacket were his hairs and hairs from Petaluma Myers. Apparently he’d worn the jacket when he went to see her, or when he planted her hairs in your daughter’s room. I sent the hairs to the lab for analysis, and the results confirmed my suspicions,” the detective replied grimly.
“How could you do this? Why would you do this?” she clutched at her husband’s arm, sobbing. “You didn’t really do it, Jeong, did you?” she pleaded. “Detective, this doesn’t make sense, what reason could my Jeong possibly have to do such a thing?”
“The fetus that your daughter carried shared your husband’s DNA, Mrs. Lee. I’m very sorry.”
“No, no… no…” she rose from the couch and started shaking her head, backing away from the monster sitting next to her. “Nooo!” she screamed and ran toward the bedroom.
“Cecilia… wait,” Jeong stood, moving as though he planned to go after her and Chas grabbed him, lightning fast, pinning his arms behind him.
“Jeong Lee, you are under arrest for the murder of Nari Lee,” he began, and read the prisoner his rights.
CHAPTER 15
The dark shadow of three days of growth graced the chiseled planes of Spencer Bengal’s weary face, as he gazed down at Janssen’s pale form. The scarred and injured Marine had been taken off of the ventilator, and was breathing on his own, but had remained in a medically induced coma until today. The staff doctor at the Beckett estate had stopped the drugs that were keeping Janssen asleep, and Spencer was waiting to see if his buddy would wake up or not. The doc had said that if it didn’t happen in the next twenty-four hours, chances were slim that it would ever happen. So Spencer waited, not leaving the room for any reason, standing vigil for his fallen friend.
His head ached, his back ached, and his stomach growled
, but even Chalmers hadn’t been able to convince him to leave Janssen’s side. He had to know that the Marine was going to be all right, and he irrationally felt that his presence might help somehow. Couldn’t hurt anyway. So many thoughts had gone through his mind while he waited faithfully for his friend to awaken. He’d thought of Izzy and the wonderful times that they’d had, he thought of dark things from his past, and of the positive things from the present—Missy, Chas, Echo… having a family again. He didn’t know much about Janssen, other than that he hadn’t been able to assimilate back into real life after Afghanistan, but he knew that the battle-hardened young man had saved his life, and the lives of others more than once.
Spencer paced about the room, lost in thought and frustrated that Janssen wasn’t waking up. It had been hours since the meds were stopped, and still… nothing.
“Gimme a beer,” a weak voice rasped from behind him, startling him from his reverie.
He whirled around to see Janssen blinking to clear his vision, half of his mouth raised in a crooked smile.
“Bout time you decided to join the living again,” Spencer ambled to his bedside, as if he wasn’t concerned at all. An emotional reaction was not what his buddy needed at the moment, so he contented himself with a handshake. “Welcome back, man. We missed you.”
“Had to take some drastic measures to get a good nap,” Janssen replied.
“I can’t get you that beer just yet, but how about some water?”
“Definitely. And sit this thing up, I can’t see anything when I’m flat on my back.”
Spencer pressed the foot pedal on the bed, raising the top half.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, leaving the room for the first time in a long time, in search of water.
Janssen was monitored via video, twenty-four hours a day, and as soon as Spencer left the room, the doctor hurried toward it, eager to check on his patient. When he returned, the doc was giving his buddy an exam.
Spiced Latte Killer: Book 10 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series Page 9
