Once Upon A Murder

by D E Dennis

  “Tell us when you do?”

  “We’ll tell you after we do,” Samira said to Monica. “Sorry, boss’s orders.”

  She heaved a sigh. “It’s fine, we’ll still be the ones solving this case.”

  Samira lifted a brow. “Oh? Care to place a bet on that.”

  Monica smirked. “Alright. We solve this case by the deadline; you have to come out to dinner with us. Me, Michael, and Mom on Saturday night.”

  Michael choked on his lo mein. “H-hold on,” he wheezed.

  “And if I win,” Samira added, ignoring him. “Michael and I go out to dinner. Just the two of us.”

  “Just a sec—”

  “Deal.”

  They shook on it and then went to their dinner, completely ignoring his dumbfounded look.

  What just happened?

  MICHAEL WAVED GOODBYE and then closed and locked the door behind Samira. His sister was in the process of packing up to leave when he returned.

  “Heading out?”

  “Yes,” she said tiredly. “I have band practice at nine and then a date with my bed. You staying?”

  He nodded. “I’m going to look through those photos of Preston’s room, and then I’ll head home.”

  “You could do that at home, you know.”

  “I work better here.”

  “Suit yourself.” She hitched her bag over her shoulder and gave him a quick hug. “See you tomorrow, bro.”

  Michael sat down in front of his computer, rubbing his tired eyes. He should just go home, but it’s not like it would take him long to go over the photos.

  Navigating to his email, he pulled up the crime scene pictures and lazily flipped through them.

  Poster. Dirty t-shirt. Bookcase. Four poster bed. A heel. A desk. A lap—

  Michael froze as something tickled at the back of his mind.

  He quickly clicked back and looked at the heel again, closer this time.

  It was a transparent, diamond-studded woman’s heel. Looked expensive and quite unique.

  “I’ve seen this shoe before,” he whispered.

  The memory slowly formed. It was when he was at the Inos’ house, standing in their backyard, and judging their assorted trash. This shoe had been nestled among the banana peels and paper towels.

  Abigail’s shoe? She must have left the other one at Preston’s house and—

  And what? Threw the other one away instead of just asking for it back like a normal person. The shoe in this picture and the one I saw in the trash looked brand new. For what possible reason would Abigail get rid of it, if it was hers.

  Unless of course... it wasn’t.

  MICHAEL AND MONICA were in the Inos’ driveway the next day as soon as school let out.

  “You really think the shoe isn’t Abigail’s just because it was thrown in the garbage? She could have broken the heel.”

  “I saw it, Mo. There was nothing wrong with it. But if I’m off, explain why a woman would throw away a perfectly nice and probably expensive shoe, if she could have gotten the pair back whenever she wanted.”

  Monica pursed her lips, but in the end admitted, “I can’t think of any. You’re right, I’ve seen the picture and it was gorgeous. Why throw it out?”

  Michael looked out the window. “We’re about to find that out.”

  He climbed out of the car and waved at Ella as she came up the drive. “Hi, Michael,” she said happily. “What’s going on?”

  He smiled back. “I have something I need to ask your foster sisters about. When do you expect them home?”

  “They should be here any minute. Want to come inside?”

  He thanked her, and he and his sister followed her inside. Ella led them into the living room and Michael discovered Adalynn exactly where he left her a few days ago.

  This time she was awake.

  “Hello,” she said dreamily. “Who are you?”

  Monica stepped around him and took a seat. “We met a few days ago, Mrs. Ino. My name is Monica, and this is Michael. We are looking for the person who killed Preston Charming.”

  She nodded. “So why are you here?”

  Michael studied her closer. Her robe was pulled closed, hair smoothed down, and gaze sharp. This wasn’t the same Adalynn he had encountered before.

  “We need to ask your daughters a few questions,” Monica said.

  “My daughters have nothing to do with his death.”

  “At the moment, this isn’t about his death as it is about the owner of a shoe.”

  She blinked at him. “A shoe?”

  “Yes. Do you mind if we wait until Abigail and Delilah come back, so we can go over all this at one time?”

  She pursed her lips but nodded. “Fine. Do you want something to eat or drink? Ella will get it for you.”

  They shook their heads and settled in to wait. As the seconds ticked by, the silence grew more awkward, but Michael didn’t give in to the temptation to fill the space with chatter. In his experience, silence said more than words ever could and this silence had Adalynn growing more agitated and Ella more fidgety.

  “Who did you say you were again?” Adalynn burst out. “Are you with the police?”

  Michael didn’t open his mouth, so Monica answered in his stead. “We are private investigators working with the police to find Preston’s killer, but as we said, this isn’t about Preston right now. We just want an inconsistency cleared up.”

  Adalynn frowned. “What inconsist—”

  “Mom!” The bellow was followed by a door slam, and the sound of something falling to the floor. “We’re home.”

  Michael pulled out his phone to type out a message as Monica got to her feet. The twins stepped into the living room, their neutral expressions quickly turning hostile.

  “What do you want?” they said at the same time.

  “We have a question for you. Just one,” Michael said. “Would you mind taking a seat?”

  They heaved a sigh, like he was asking them to run to China instead of plopping down on the couch. They budged up next to Adalynn while Ella perched on the arm of the couch.

  Monica reached into her purse and pulled out the crime scene photo they printed out earlier that morning.

  “This shoe was found underneath Preston Charming’s bed. Do you recognize it?”

  She handed the picture to Abigail and the women leaned in to pore over it.

  Abigail frowned. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  Delilah plucked the photo from her fingers and studied it. “Cute. But I’ve never seen it either.”

  “That is not mine,” Adalynn said lightly.

  Delilah tried to hand it back, but Monica pointed at Ella. “What about you, Ella? Is it yours?”

  “Nope.” Her denial was immediate.

  Michael lifted a brow. “Would you all like to look at the photo again?”

  “Don’t need to,” Abigail snapped. “It’s not ours. That is a Geppetto original. One of a kind. Handmade specifically for the owner. Those things are seven hundred dollars on sale. I don’t know if you’ve noticed what side we’re on, but none of us can afford to drop that much on heels.” Her eyes narrowed. “But when you find the skank who can, be sure to give me their name. I would love to know why their shoes were under my boyfriend’s bed.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to look too far for her,” said Michael, “because we found the match to this heel in your trash can.”

  Four shocked faces.

  “Anybody want to explain how a shoe you all claim to not own ended up in your trash?”

  “No idea,” Abigail said, frowning.

  Monica leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “As you said, this shoe was one of a kind. One was found under his bed and the other was found on this property. One of you is lying which, I’ll give you a hint, is pretty suspicious in a murder investigation.”

  Adalynn’s eyes narrowed. “You said this wasn’t about the murder. Maybe I should call my lawyer?” She was poised to get out of
her seat, but Michael waved her back down.

  “We just want to know who this shoe belongs to, Mrs. Ino. We haven’t accused anyone of anything. We’re trying to get at the truth.”

  “We gave you the truth,” Abigail protested. “We don’t know how the shoe got in the trash, but it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

  Michael sighed. “Where is the trash now?”

  “I put the garbage out already,” Ella piped up. “If there was a heel in there it is gone.”

  Michael nodded. Of course, it was gone. Ella told him about a rat jumping out and scaring her when she moved the bins. He had to be sure though.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “We have a plan B.”

  “Plan B?” Delilah scowled. “What does that mean?”

  “The—”

  The doorbell chimed bringing a smile to Michael’s face. “Right on cue.”

  Adalynn looked at him suspiciously but said, “Ella, get the door, please.”

  She did as Adalynn requested and returned to the room with Spencer and Samira on her heels.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ino.” Samira inclined her head. “I trust my colleagues have told you why we are here.”

  “Not at all,” she snapped. “They have been pestering us about shoes and have refused to believe we have no idea what they are talking about. What is going on here?”

  “This is what is going on here.” She held out her hand, presenting the evidence bag. Inside it was a single shoe even lovelier than the photos would suggest. It was see-through but studded with diamonds that made it catch the light and send it sparkling. “This shoe was found in Preston Charming’s room and the other, I am told, was found here in your garbage. We don’t know yet if this connects to the murder, but it’s our job to look into everything.”

  “How could a forgotten shoe connect to a murder?” Ella asked.

  Samira turned calm eyes on her. “That is what we plan to discover. If you would all take off your right shoe and try this one on, please. We’ll find out who the owner is once and for all.”

  Adalynn reared up. “You can’t force us to—”

  “Force?” Monica lifted a brow. “Why would we need to force you? It’s a simple and harmless request. Why refuse unless you have something to hide?”

  Adalynn pinked. “We have nothing to hide.” She bent down and ripped off her bunny slipper. “Give it to me.”

  Samira removed the shoe from the bag and gave it to Spencer. He took it and knelt down in front of Adalynn. “Please do not touch the evidence,” he commanded when she made to grab it. “I will handle the shoe.”

  Gently, Spencer took her foot and tried to guide it into the shoe. He got her toes in, but the heel did not follow. Her feet were too big.

  He moved to Delilah next. “This is stupid,” she said irately but she took her sneaker off nonetheless. Spencer tried to wiggle the shoe onto her foot, but he couldn’t even get all her toes inside. Her feet were even bigger than her mother’s.

  Next, Abigail.

  She scoffed. “If it didn’t fit Lilah, it’s not going to fit me. We’re the same size.” Spencer just waited, expression blank and hand out. Abigail cursed and stuck her foot in his face. Spencer gave her the same treatment, but as she said, she was the same size and the shoe did not fit.

  She smirked at them as he got to his feet. “See, I told you. We’re hardly going to be running around in heels that we can’t fit our feet in. We don’t know a thing about this shoe, so why don’t you stop wasting our time. You should be out finding Preston’s killer, not snooping through our trash.”

  “We’re not done yet,” said Samira, unfazed by her unpleasantness. “Miss Glass, if you would remove your right shoe.”

  Abigail snorted. “Her? She’s never been in Preston’s house nor could she afford to think about shoes like that, let alone buy them. You can leave Cinderella out of this.”

  Michael tensed. “Do not,” he said, voice cold enough to chill the room, “call her that again. Her name is Ella. Smart girl like you should have no trouble remembering it.”

  Abigail’s scowl deepened, but she fell silent.

  Samira beckoned Ella off the couch. “Miss Glass, stand up, please, and hold out your right foot.”

  Slowly, face impassive, Ella rose from the chair, toed off her right sneaker, and held out a manicured foot.

  It was like a scene from an old movie. A dashing man kneels on bended knee, gently grasps the woman’s ankle and slips her foot into a gorgeous shoe and says—

  “Perfect fit.”

  Spencer looked up at Ella. “It’s your size,” he said gravely. “The shoe we found underneath the bed of Preston Charming belongs to you. Care to explain that?”

  Ella bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room. “Well, I—”

  “You skank!” Abigail leaped off the couch and tackled her, cutting off whatever explanation she was going to give.

  The girls went down in a screaming tangle of limbs.

  IT TOOK SOME EFFORT to separate the girls and pull Abigail away from Ella. Abby was much stronger than she appeared, but Samira and Spencer were finally able to get her off and drag her out of the room. Delilah and Adalynn followed right behind them.

  Her screams echoed through the halls, almost covering up the sounds of Ella's cries.

  Michael bent down and carefully helped Ella to her feet, setting her down next to Monica on the sofa.

  "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

  She sniffed. "Yes, I'm fine."

  "Good. Then maybe you can tell us what's going on, Ella. This doesn't look good for you."

  She shook her head. "It's just a shoe. It's not a big deal."

  "It wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t have lied about it. Why didn’t you just tell us the shoe was yours?"

  She shook her head again, tight-lipped.

  Michael knelt down in front of her. "Ella, we're on your side. You can tell us the truth."

  Her tears began again in earnest. "I-I can't."

  "Yes, you can," he repeated. "There's no point in hiding it now. If you were seeing Preston behind Abby's back, then—"

  "What? No! I wasn't seeing that creep." The venom in her voice surprised him.

  "Then how did your shoe get under his bed?" Monica asked, lightly stroking her back. "It places you in his house. In his room."

  She shifted away from her, crossing her arms. "It wasn’t for that reason. It was because— Because I..."

  Michael got up and sat down next to her, staying in her sightlines. "Just tell us the truth, Ella. It's okay."

  Her lips trembled. She looked into his eyes, seemingly seeking something. She must have found it because her shoulders slumped, and she began telling her story.

  "Preston and Abby spent most of their time in Fairy Tails, but every now and then he would come by the house. He came over two weeks ago to pick up Abby, but I was the only one home. I let him in to wait and he told me about the party they were throwing. He said I could stop by if I wanted and bring my friends. That everyone was welcome. I was surprised. He had never bothered to speak to me before and now here he was inviting me to his fancy party. Part of me thought it might be a trick, but when we got to the gates, they let us in without a problem. My name was on the list."

  She shrugged. "So we showed up but it was out of control. I know booze, loud music, and half-nudity is fun for the rest of my peers but I'm not into it. Guys descended on me the moment I stepped inside, and I eventually left my friends and went upstairs to look for some peace and quiet. I ended up in Preston's room, although I wasn't intentionally looking for it. I just poked my head into a free room and saw his had a balcony. I spent the night out there, enjoying the view."

  Michael nodded. All of that sounded reasonable. "Okay, but what about the shoes?"

  She stiffened. "What about them?"

  "At some point, you took them off. At another point, one ended up not on the balcony, but under his bed. How did it get there? And why did you leave
it there and throw the other one away? They must have cost you a fortune."

  She fidgeted, tossing her head. "I just forgot it, okay?"

  "Forgot?" he pressed. "How could you forget a shoe? You would have noticed when it wasn’t on your foot and you were hobbling around the party on one heel."

  She hunched over, retreating into herself. "I had to leave in a hurry. I forgot the shoe and one without the other is useless. So, I threw it away. That's it. Just leave it alone."

  "What could have happened that would make you run out of there so fast you would leave your shoe—"

  A hand flashed out and seized his arm. He looked up at his sister in surprise.

  "Michael," she said urgently. "I need you to step out of the room. Now."

  He blinked. "But I—"

  "Now, please." There was an intensity in her eyes that he hadn't seen before.

  Michael looked from her to Ella and then back to her and finally, painstakingly, he made the connection. He snapped his mouth shut and got to his feet. "I'll give you two some privacy. Want me to get Samira?"

  Monica nodded. She placed her hand back on Ella's shoulder and murmured softly to her as Ella’s tears began anew.

  Heart heavy, Michael followed the sounds of Abigail's bellows until he found Samira and Spencer arguing with her in the kitchen.

  Michael grabbed her arm, pulling her aside.

  "Samira, I believe we know why the shoe was left behind..."

  Chapter Seven

  Michael and Monica spent the ride back to the office in a tense silence. Michael thought about speaking a few times, but in the end decided to do what he did best, say nothing at all.

  They trudged through the door and threw their coats at the rack. The coats went wide and landed in a heap on the floor, but they ignored it.

  Michael sat in his chair and sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "Do you want some coffee?" he said to Monica. "I'll get a pot going."

  She didn't answer. She was staring off into space.

  Michael repeated his question.

  Monica turned in her seat and fixed her eyes on him. "I hate this case."