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“Ugh, you seem to have caught me out there, Detective. I was trying to keep our association a secret, seeing as the young lady was married, and in a small town like this, people may not look too kindly on such things. It might be bad for business, you know, you understand.”
Celia kept her expression harsh and unforgiving when she looked him in the eye. She wasn’t playing when she told Pete that she planned to throw everything she had at Don Simpson, aka Wilson. As promised, she’d filled him in on everything she’d uncovered.
But it was only after visiting the two elderly ladies earlier that something clicked for her. Something about seeing the two of them and the way they moved had sparked an idea in her head.
So instead of heading to Wilson’s office right away like she’d planned, she’d headed back to the station to do some more digging. She hadn’t told Pete what she was up to, not wanting to taint his perspective if she was wrong, which she very well could be. And she didn’t plan on always keeping things from her partner when working on a case. But until she knew for certain, she didn’t want to cloud his judgment. Now she was pretty sure upon coming here that she was on the right track.
Not wanting a repeat of the day before with someone sneaking up behind them, she’d told Pete to keep an eye on the door while she questioned the lawyer, and in essence, to surreptitiously look around the room for any other hidden entrances that may have been blended into the wall. It wouldn’t be against the norm for these old buildings that had been built well before the turn of the century to have secret passageways. She was sure there were some out at the farm that she hadn’t yet explored.
No matter how she thought of it, there was no reason for anyone to be lurking around a small-town attorney’s office unless the person was a lover or some kind of nefarious acquaintance. While talking to the two elderly women earlier something had brought to mind the image of the reflection she’d seen in the elevator doors. Something about Constance and Lenore made her think of the way the person had been standing. Now she was convinced that it was most definitely a female that she’d seen and most likely an older one at that.
After going back to the office she’d ran Don and his life since moving here, there was nothing indicating that he’d been involved with anyone and the closest person to him, the only one she could find that had any kind of contact with him in the town was his secretary. Funnily enough, when she ran the woman’s name through the system, it came back that she too was a new transplant.
That had got Celia’s blood singing, and she’d done some more digging to see where else the two may have connected. She went on the hunch that the woman might be using her real first name as well like Simpson had done. She wasn’t sure why they’d chosen to do that, maybe for convenience's sake. But then again most criminals are dumber than they’re portrayed to be on TV.
Don was starting to sweat under the detective’s unforgiving glare. He got the sense that things weren’t going to be as smooth as they had been the day before. Now he was wondering what could’ve happened to change the situation so drastically and in such a short space of time. She couldn’t possibly have found out about the others, could she?
“As an attorney, I’m sure you’re aware of the penalty for lying to the police in the process of an investigation, or do I need to spell it out for you? And while we’re at it, why don’t you tell me about the illegal name change.” Don really started to panic now, but Detective Sparks wasn’t really interested in him, she was after bigger fish on this fishing expedition.
He wasn’t much of a criminal, just a sleazy lawyer using his name and occupation to worm his way into young unsuspecting women’s pants. Her assessment was proven right when he fell for her ploy about knowing his handwriting. He never stopped to ask how that could’ve been just fell right into the trap she’d laid.
Now it was too late for him to backtrack from the association he’d already admitted to, to her victim Melissa Sherry. The ease with which he capitulated more than anything told her that though he may have been involved, he was in no way the mastermind behind the murder. It was too cleanly done with not even a hint to point them in the right direction, until now.
While Don sweated and looked around the room as if expecting to find answers hiding in the corners, Celia was waiting for the other player to show her hand. If her hunch is right, she’d know who her killer is by end of day. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, but the picture was beginning to take shape in her head.
