Major Crimes (21 page)

Read Major Crimes Online

Authors: Michele Lynn Seigfried

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: Major Crimes
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“Please hold.”

After a few seconds of elevator music, Bonnie’s voice came over the line. “What’s the matter Chelsey? Having one of those IBS episodes?”

“Hilarious. I need you to do me a favor.”

“So long as it doesn’t involve wiping your ass…”

“I did not leave because of an IBS episode!”

“Your period, then? Pad leaking?”


Eww
, no! Stop! Listen!”


Geez!
Don’t go getting your panties into a bunch. I’m all ears.”

“I think Dira killed Archie.”

Silence. Laughter. Too much laughter.

“Bonnie?”

“Oh my word, Chelsey. That was the funniest joke I ever heard.
Ever
.” Bonnie had trouble catching her breath. “Really, Chelsey. You’re hilarious!”

“It’s not a joke.”

“Are you high? Did Bryce get you hooked on drugs too?”

“No, I…”

“Then whose Kool-Aid are you drinking?”

“Some friend you are!”

“Look, I’m not trying to be mean. But you’ve got this all wrong. Let me go shut my door.” Bonnie left me hanging while she shut her door.

Bonnie whispered, “There’s no way in hell Dira killed anyone. She’s too mousy.”

“It’s always the quiet ones you’d least expect.”

“I’m not buying it. Who’s feeding you this monkey poo?”

“You don’t have to believe me. I just need you to scan a copy of the photo on Dira’s desk…for Freddy.”

“Why?”

“Because the necklace she has on puts her at the crime scene. Does she wear that necklace frequently? Have you seen it on her lately?”

“I don’t know. Dira’s not very fashionable. I’m not usually interested in her apparel or accessories.”

“Just humor me and do it. And don’t let her know you’re doing it.”

“Fine, but it will have to wait until after she leaves for lunch.”

“Great. Thank you.”

We disconnected and I pulled out of the lot. I wasn’t sure where to go next. To Bryce? Or to Freddy?
Maybe I should go home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Bryce

 

 

Chelsey hung up on me to call Freddy. I turned to Frank. “Could you look up a Dira Napoli and see what you can find?”

“I sure can.”

Within five minutes, Frank had a picture of Dira up on his computer screen. He pointed to it. “Is this her?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Give me five more minutes and I can have her life’s history.”

Within five minutes, Frank had a history. He hit the print button and a printer spit out several pages. Frank slid on a pair of reading glasses. “I hate reading on the computer. Bothers my eyes. Says here she’s in her twenties. Her birth father, Rocco Napoli died when she was a baby. No criminal record. Lives alone in an apartment in the town of Madisen. Hmm
.
Nothing much of interest…oh, wait a minute. It says her mother’s name is Cynthia.”

I watched Frank tap more information onto his keyboard. “Cynthia Napoli…maiden name Holgate. Married twice. Her first husband died. She divorced the second husband. His name was…Shawn Sterling.”

Frank looked up at me. The light bulb had clicked on. “So, this elusive daughter of Cynthia’s is Dira Napoli.”

I nodded. “Yup, and Dira works for Coral Beach Village. She used to be Archie’s secretary.”

“And Cynthia was one of Archie’s mistresses.” Frank scratched his chin. “Is there a motive in there? If I’m doing the math correctly in my head, it seems that Archie and Cynthia had an affair right around the time that Cynthia and her second husband divorced.”

I was impressed that Frank had remembered such small details about the case. I didn’t remember the dates of those events. Heck, I wasn’t even sure anyone told me what year Archie and Cynthia were having an affair. I guessed it had to be before Brittany was born. Dira would’ve still been pretty young at that time. To lose two fathers a few years apart from each other…did she know about the affair her mother had? Was she mad at Archie for causing her parents’ divorce? Or was she mad that Archie had berated her in public and transferred her out of his office?

The murder was a crime of passion. It was personal. It was committed by someone fueled by rage, heartbreak or revenge. Someone cold. Someone calculating. Dira’s personality was cold. I imagined she would take her time planning every detail. Quietly and carefully.

Dira would not have been my guess as the murderer, but now I could see it. It made sense. Chelsey was right. She said she had a feeling Cynthia was a solid lead in the case…and she was.

“Does my brother know about this Dira person?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, he does. Chelsey is calling him now.”

“Then we wait. See what he tells us to do next. I guess I could wiretap Dira’s phone.”

“I somehow don’t think she uses it much.” Dira didn’t speak much. I couldn’t imagine her blurting out details of the murder over the phone to a girlfriend. “I think it would be a waste of our time.”

“Then we wait. It’s almost lunchtime. I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?”

“Sure.”

We went upstairs and Geri made us lunch. I chuckled to myself thinking of the few minutes that Chelsey had Geri under suspicion.

 

* * *

 

My watch read two o’clock. I tried calling Chelsey but she didn’t answer. Freddy didn’t answer his phone either. The suspense was killing me. I needed to know if the police had the intel on Dira and whether or not I was a free man.

Frank stood near the bedroom door as I packed the few belongings that I had. “Will we see you back here?”

“Hopefully only under good circumstances.” I gave him a smile. “I can’t thank you and your wife enough for your hospitality and help with the investigation. I’m not sure how I can repay you.”

“No need to repay us. Keep your nose clean. Call us if you need anything.”

I shook his hand then went in the living room to say good-bye to Geri. “Thank you for everything.”

“It was our pleasure.” Geri teared up.

“Don’t be sad. It’ll be great to have your house back to yourselves again.” I hugged her.

“Oh, it was so nice having a young man in the house again. You reminded me so much of my son. It was good to have you here.”

I almost teared up myself. I grabbed my bag and headed toward the door. With one final farewell, I jumped into the Tahoe and drove the hour to the shore.

The radio made no mention of Archie’s murder being solved or that Dira was another suspect in the case. It was too soon. I perceived that as a warning and parked a few blocks away, scoping out the area for police.

Knowing the coast was clear, I walked up Chelsey’s driveway. Her car was there, so I knew she was home. I knocked this time.

Chelsey flung open the door and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “I knew we would crack this case! I knew it!”

I wrapped my arms around her low to lift her off the ground, then carried her into the house. Snickers bolted at us from the other room, jumping frantically with excitement. I let go of Chelsey and scratched his ears. “What’s the latest? I haven’t heard anything since you called me earlier, although I thought of a possible motive based on what Frank was able to find out about her.”

“Freddy called the Coral Beach police and they are going to bring her in for questioning. Possibly today. If not, then tomorrow morning. He’s collecting all the evidence against her and forwarding it them. The DNA, the ring, the videos, the picture that sat on Dira’s desk. He is going to Savoy’s tonight to show Dira’s picture around, see if anyone remembers her. He has his investigators questioning Dira’s neighbors about the night of Archie’s murder. He knows she didn’t go home that night until sometime after Archie was murdered. He’s trying to see if she had access to GHB, but maybe if the police get a warrant to search her house, they will find some there. The police should also be able to subpoena the rental car company records to find out if Dira rented the Ford Focus. The evidence is stacking up! And you, my friend, will be cleared!”

“Friend?”

“Huh?”

“Is that all we are? Friends?” I stepped closer to Chelsey.

Chelsey lowered her eyes, then glanced back up into mine. We held the gaze for a moment before I slid my hands onto her waist and pulled her body against mine. Our lips met. I wasn’t exactly sure if she initiated the kiss or if I did, but it didn’t matter. We were lost in each other’s arms as the kiss grew deeper.

Chelsey stopped for a moment, grabbed my hand, and led me to her bedroom without speaking.

 

* * *

 

Early the next morning, Chelsey’s phone rang. It was Freddy. She rolled over in bed and grabbed it. “Hey…wait a second, Bryce is here, I’m gonna put you on speaker.”

“What is Bryce doing there so early?”

I didn’t want to explain the birds and the bees to Freddy, so I lied. “I came bearing gifts of coffee and donuts.”

Chelsey rolled her eyes, sat up on the bed, and covered herself with the sheet as if Freddy could see the two of us.

“Yeah, yeah. They arrested Dira.”

“That’s great!” Chelsey was excited.

“She confessed.”

“Seriously? She confessed, just like that? Just after questioning?” Chelsey seemed surprised.

“Dira wasn’t hard to crack. A little sleep deprivation, a little promise that it would all be fine and it would be over soon…and, well, she cracked.”

“What was her motive?” Chelsey asked.

“Dira’s mother’s cheating with Archie caused Dira’s stepfather to walk out on them. Dira was always resentful of her family breaking up. She blamed Archie, not her mom. The man who walked out, Martha’s second husband—Shawn Sterling, was the man who raised Dira. That’s why Cynthia has a different last name than Dira. Dira’s biological father, Rocco Napoli, died when Dira was a baby.”

Chelsey took a sip from a glass of water that was on her night stand. “Did Archie know Dira was the daughter of Cynthia Sterling?”

“That’s not clear. But he was mean to her, fueling her anger toward him. He made a comment to her that set her over the edge. Something derogatory about her mother, father or both. Luckily, the evidence all of us found against Dira was enough to have the police bring her in for questioning. When pressed hard enough, Dira cracked under the pressure. She wasn’t a serial killer. She felt guilty about the murder and she was relieved that it was off her chest.”

“How did she have access to the GHB? How did she get that into our drinks?” I was a detective. I wanted answers.

“I guess the police will ask those questions. I’m sure you’ll be able to get a full report from them eventually.”

“What about the murder weapon? Did they check the knife for prints?”

“If they didn’t, it doesn’t seem like they need to—they have a full confession. The only reason for the case to go to court now is for Dira’s sentencing.”

Chelsey put her water glass back down on the table. “Is Bryce off the hook, then?”

“He’s cleared of any murder charges, but he might not be cleared of not turning himself in for questioning—hindering an investigation. And there is also the issue of him tampering with evidence—taking the ring from the scene of the crime. I guess he’ll need to figure that out. It’s probably not a bad idea to put an attorney on retainer.”

“Thanks, Freddy.” We said the words simultaneously.

“Ten-four.”

Chelsey hung up the phone. I wrapped my arms around her as we laid back down in bed together.

“Well, that was anticlimactic.”

“Unlike last night.” I winked at Chelsey.

Chelsey blushed. “I’m serious. That was a very anticlimactic ending to this case. No Dira flying off the deep end, kidnapping anyone, trying to murder someone else. Nothing.”

“She kind of flew off the deep end when she murdered Archie, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. I sort of feel bad for her.”

“Don’t. Normal people don’t go around murdering others, no matter how mad they are. She’ll probably claim temporary insanity and go to a hospital instead of doing jail time if her lawyer is good enough.”

“What are you going to do about work?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s safe to call them and see if I still have a job or not.”

“You do that, I’m going to grab a shower.” Chelsey jumped out of bed and ambled into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on.

I found my clothes scattered on the floor and got dressed. I picked up the phone and called my boss at the county prosecutor’s office. He screamed at me. A lot. He told me I should’ve turned myself in. The problem was, if I did that, there was no doubt I would’ve been rotting behind bars for the rest of my life. Although it was Saturday, he demanded I report to work immediately. I wasn’t sure if he was going to ask me to turn over my badge and service weapon or if I’d be allowed to keep my job. If I kept it, there was the possibility of a demotion and formal reprimand.

With hope in my heart, a cloud at my feet, and a skip in my walk, I wrote Chelsey a note.

 

Got called into work. Had a great time.

I’m crazy about you and can’t wait to see you again.

Love,

Bryce.

 

I left the note on the kitchen table, scratched Snickers on the head, and left for work.

 

* * *

 

Spending nearly twenty-four hours at headquarters was not fun. After a good tongue-lashing, I was told I could keep my job. A press release was disseminated. It said that I was working undercover for the county prosecutor’s office. It also said that with the help of Freddy’s private investigation firm and the Coral Beach Village police, a killer was captured in less than one week. Lastly, it said that the story about me being wanted for questioning was fabricated to help flush out a killer—after all, if the police had a suspect, a murderer might relax and slip up.

I still wasn’t off the hook with the Coral Beach Village police for tampering with evidence. Something to deal with at a later date. Something I’d need an attorney for.

With exhaustion setting in, I showered in the locker room and dressed in clean clothes. While I would’ve liked to have taken a cat nap, I took a detour on my way home from work instead.

What I was about to do was the craziest thing I’d ever done. I parked my car, exited the vehicle, and walked through the parking lot. I grasped the handle to the door, and stepped inside. I looked around, drinking in the bright lights reflecting off the fixtures.

A woman with her hair in a tight bun, glasses, and pencil skirt approached me. “May I help you?”

I nodded. I used to think my parents were out of their minds. The story they told repeatedly about how they met. “We met on a train,” my father would say. I would picture him fluffing his feathers and fanning his tail like a peacock to impress my mother. My father was a conductor. My mother was on the Northeast Corridor Line for her first trip into New York City.

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