Wrong Place

December 7th, 8:02am

Bruce Dunnings entered his mother’s house, concerned because she hadn’t picked up his calls the previous day. Even when they were arguing, she always returned his calls. And of course, they had been arguing. She was an old woman with too much time on her hands, she had too many hobbies and too many of them brought her out of the house. When there was still no call from her on his phone that morning when he woke up he headed to her house. She couldn’t possibly be that angry at him.

He unlocked the door, seeing her car still sitting in the driveway. She very rarely locked her door. Strange.

The lights in the main hall were off, as were the lights in the living room. He clicked them on as he went. He turned the corner towards the stairs and froze, letting out a gasp.

His mother lay on the floor at the base of the stairs, her neck twisted at an odd angle, a pool of blood surrounding her. He pulled his phone from his pocket and immediately dialed 9-1-1.

December 9th, 10:07am

Detective Drew Stevens dropped a file on Detective Jennifer Waynes’ desk. There were so many images inside and slips of paper it made a loud thunk. She looked away from her computer screen, eying the folder and then taking in Drew’s face.

“Homicide ruling?”

“Yep. She fell backwards down the stairs. With force.”

Jennifer flipped the folder open, glancing through the images. 48 hours ago she had witnessed the scene in real time. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. The only thing that seemed unusual was the son himself. He was quiet, lacking what she considered to be the correct amount of emotion. Maybe he was in shock, but she doubted it.

The images didn’t provide any additional clues like she had hoped. Fingerprints weren’t picked up, nor were footprints. The pool of blood showed nothing. She had seen other crimes where the perp had run through the puddle, leaving a trial. But those were spur of the moment things. This was calculated.

She flipped through the pages, her stomach sinking as she went. Drew had already started working on the case.

“Plane tickets?”

He nodded, “Yeah. The daughter has been out of the state for two weeks. Her husband’s mother is dying. You want to call the hospice nurse? See if she can confirm the alibi?”

“Instantly going for the family?”

“Start at square one right?”

Jennifer would have done the same thing. She continued going through the folder. There was a statement presented by Bruce.

She didn’t answer her phone last night, I wanted to make sure she was okay. We’ve been having disagreements. I worry about her, ya know? She’s older. She goes out too much, I just want to make sure she’s okay…the door was locked, I had to unlock it. I’ve had a spare since she had pneumonia a few years ago, started as a cold she caught. Because she wasn’t careful. You know? I can’t believe she fell. She must have. I can’t believe it. Who’s going to tell Magdelin?...I was home with my wife yesterday, the last time I saw my mother was on Saturday before her appointment. I don’t know what the appointment was for, she didn’t tell me.

Jennifer continued to stare at the statement, listening to the phone ring. She hoped the hospice nurse would be awake.

“Hello?” A broken feminine voice answered.

“Is this Magdelin Dunnings?”

“Magdelin Rogers now. But yes. Yes it is.”

“I am so sorry for your loss.”

There was a sob on the other end. Jennifer stared towards the ceiling as her own eyes watered. It had only been a few months since her own mother had passed.

“May I speak with the nurse?”

There was silence and a shuffling, then a chipper voice answered. “Hello? This is Suzzane.”

Jennifer didn’t know why she was following through with the conversation. Magedelin’s voice had been enough to cement her innocence. Still, Jennifer began her line of questioning, spending only fifteen minutes on the phone with Suzzanne to confirm Magdelin’s alibi.

December 21st, 3:07am

“Who do you think did it?”

Detective Stevens was sitting at his desk, tossing a hackey sack into the air and catching it in his hand. Thump, thump, thump. The sound filled the dimly lit office. Most people had already gone home to their families. It was almost Christmas after all, no one wanted to be stuck behind the desk.

“Are you asking based upon feeling or evidence?”

Stevens considered his partner. “Women’s intuition right?”

“Then I say it was Bruce.”

“Bruce?”

Jennifer Waynes nodded. “Bruce.”

“Why Bruce? He’s cooperating.” Drew pointed to the file that sat in front of Jennifer. It had grown in size since the day they opened it. Bruce had provided his sister’s plane tickets, contacted the maid who had been unfortunately ill the day his mother was murdered, and had called in daily to check on the proceedings.

“That’s why.”

She stood up, catching his hacky sack as he threw it into the air. She paced, passing the ball from hand to hand. Drew Stevens had had the hacky sack for as long as she had known him, which was far longer than she was willing to admit. They had been friends in high school, separating for college, and then falling back together at the local police station. He started a year before her, but she was promoted two years before him. He didn’t hold it against her. She wished she could say the same for the other men on the force.

“Think about it Drew, who has anything to gain from her dying?”

“Sack please.”

She tossed it to him, waiting patiently for him to consider what she was saying.

“We won’t really know who benefits until we get our hands on the will. I had Mendez contact the executor, my gut is telling me we’ll hear from them by Friday. But, how would Bruce know he was going to make out? We don’t even know that.”

The hacky sack soared through the air, landing seamlessly in Jennifer’s hand. “It’s a 50/50 shot, at least I would think so if I were in Bruce’s position. She only had 2 living relatives, at least according to Bruce and Magdelin.”

“That’s a pretty big chance to take. Life in prison over a 50/50 guess? And what if he guessed wrong?”

“Then we would have to keep an eye on Magdelin.”

“So Bruce did it for the money?”

Jennifer nodded.” It was Bruce, with the candlestick, in the library.”

Drew laughed at her joke, holding his hand up for the return. He caught it easily. “I’m going to tell you what I think.”

“This should be good.”

“That’s mean,” He laughed. “I don’t think it was Bruce or Magdelin. Don’t think it was the maid or Miss Scarlet either. However, I do think it was an accident, a robbery gone wrong.”

“And who was the robber?”

Drew tossed the hacky sack again, letting it land with a loud thunk on his desk. “The kid they caught a few roads over going through a woman’s bedroom two nights ago. There’s been a string of break-ins for the past month. My theory is, he was watching Mrs. Dunnings house. She’s usually away on Tuesday nights, but this Tuesday she was home because as Bruce said, she was ill. She had a migraine. She decided to stay in, rest. Her lights were out. He assumed she was out and about like every Tuesday. He breaks in, she’s there. They argue, maybe things get violent. He shoves her, she goes down the stairs. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Broken neck. He takes off. Bruce finds her the next day.”

Jennifer leaned against his desk, their knees brushing slightly. “So, you think her murderer is completely unconnected to her?”

“Sure do.”

Jennifer nodded. “I’m not sure you’re right about that, I’m still betting on Bruce.”

“I think you’re biased because of his name.”

Bruce, her almost ex-husband. She tucked away his comment but said nothing about it. “Are you ready to head out?”

“We really need to stop closing this place down Waynes, our party antics are getting out of hand.”

Jennifer smirked, “If I’m not careful, I might end up divorced.”

Drew laughed, clicking off the last lights as he followed her to the door. He had ended many nights with her in this room, he had been witness to the break up with her fiance, the return of the ring, and her sleepless nights that followed. She hadn’t let on how much it had bothered her and though it had been seven months and she believed she had moved on he still saw the ghost of Bruce Felton lurking just behind her eyes.

He couldn’t handle her career. When she almost died during an investigation that was it. She refused to quit which in turn, made him quit their relationship. Most days, Drew thought she was crazy, but he respected her. She did what she believed was right, even if it was hard.

“You want to grab coffee?” He asked her as they walked towards their cars. He parked beside her every morning, knowing he would be walking her to her car that night. The lighting in the parking lot was questionable. He’d asked a few times to have it looked at and been shot down every time.

“At this time?”

“What? It’s too late?”

“Too early,” She laughed, her hand on her door handle. “No one’s open.”

Drew bit back the urge to ask her to come over to his house for coffee. The timing wasn’t right and that wasn’t a line he was willing to cross just yet. “Cafe down the road is open.”

“That dive?”

“I’ll have you know, it’s the best dive around.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“Come on, what else are you going to do?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe sleep?”

Drew laughed, opening his own door. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Jennifer sighed. “One cup of coffee.”

“That’s all I need.”

December 21st, 10am

A few hours later, Jennifer and Drew saw across from the young man that had been sneaking through their small town at night, breaking into unoccupied homes and taking valuables. Drew still believed he was the one that had taken Mrs. Dunnings’ life, Jennifer though was still unconvinced. He didn’t have the hardened face she had learned to expect from someone that was guilty of murder, not that she made a habit of hanging out with murderers but after her last run in with one she had an idea of what to look for. They were like wild animals; they had a coldness to their eyes, as though by killing they had sucked the soul had been sucked out of them.

“So you didn’t know Mrs. Dunnings?” Drew repeated the same question he had already asked three times. Even Jennifer was getting tired of hearing it.

“I told you already. I didn’t know her. Not really. I just watched her house a couple weeks man.”

“What made you pick her house?”

He snorted. “What do you mean? Have you seen the house? It’s a mansion just about. Just without the security. Clearly.”

Jennifer kicked Drew under the table, turning the conversation back to herself. “Walk us through what you saw when you entered the building.”

Jennifer watched as Dawson twitched in his seat, stretching his fingers across the table top. “Not much. It was dark in the entryway, like I expected it to be. I didn’t think she was home.”

She waited for him to continue. When two minutes of silence passed she cleared her throat. Drew tapped his foot. “What else Dawson?”

“Why am I even being asked about this?”

“Because you’re looking pretty guilty kid,” Drew answered leaning across the table slightly. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him. There were bags under his eyes and his mood was tanking severely. “Want to hear my theory?”

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” Dawson leaned back in his chair again, his arms crossed over his chest. The spotlight was off of him and back on Drew. It was the way he liked it. Jennifer tabled her questioning and let Drew take over. She wasn’t done with him.

“I think you killed her. Not on purpose, no, you didn’t expect it to happen,” Drew stood up and began pacing the room. Dawson followed him with his eyes, color rising in his cheeks. “You came face to face with her when you went upstairs to get the valuables, I’m assuming you were there for her jewelry and whatever else you could fit in your pockets. Seems to be your gig. You argued, she tried unmasking you, you shoved her, and without realizing you sent her down the stairs. She fell, broke her neck. Scared, you left without taking a thing.”

Dawson held Drew’s eye contact for what felt like forever. The tension grew. Jennifer’s hands began to sweat. Finally, Dawson looked away. “You’re wrong.”

“Then tell us what happened,” Jennifer found his gaze, her fingers clasped on the table top while Drew continued to watch them.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“He said…I can’t.”

“He who?” Drew asked.

“Bruce.” Jennifer stated confidently before Dawson could say anything. Her heart thumped in her chest, thrumming with anticipation. “I already know.”

Dawson’s quick jerk of the head confirmed her suspicions. “Did he admit it?”

Drew sat down, trying to conceal the shock on his face, letting Jennifer take the lead.

“Not in so many words. Tell us what happened and maybe we can cut a deal.”

Drew sighed, this wasn’t the plan nor the way he had expected the interview to go. Part of him expected their boss to burst through the door. Jennifer was notorious for working out deals to get information and their boss hated it. She had a face people wanted to talk to. He understood, but he didn’t understand why she tried to help everyone.

“What kind of deal?”

“I can’t keep you out of jail, but we can wipe the charges associated with Mrs. Dunnings if you tell us what happened and speak at the trial.”

Dawson shook his head. “I don’t know man. I don’t trust him, he’s a crazy SOB.”

“You’d rather go to prison for murder? I’ve heard what they do to murderers in there, especially to ones that murder women.”

“Not pretty,” Drew added.

Jennifer went to stand. “But if that’s the way you feel, I can ask them to get your cell ready.”

She pushed out from the table, Drew following her lead. As she put her hand on the handle, prepared to go out with what information she had gathered, Dawson called them back.

“I’ll talk.”

Jennifer went back to her seat with a straight face, knowing that if she appeared too eager he might change his mind. “Thank you. We would hate for something to happen to your pretty face.”

Dawson rolled his eyes. “But I need to know I’m going to be safe.I don’t want to be in with him.”

Jennifer nodded. “You won’t be. I can make that happen.”

She had no idea what she was truly capable of, but she just wanted the truth.

Dawson nodded, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So, like I said. I broke in. Not really though. The door was unlocked. I guess I should have taken that as a sign that she was home. But I didn’t, she was old. I figured she just forgot to lock it on her way out. The main entry was dark and empty. I knew, well I assumed, where she kept her valuables, so I went looking for the stairs to head to the bedrooms,” Dawson paused. His hands were shaking now. Drew leaned forward, waiting to hear the rest. Jennifer tried to keep her composure, but her fingers were tightening around the pencil as she jotted notes.

“Anyways, I found the stairs. Bruce, her son I think he is, was standing in front of her. I ducked so he wouldn’t see me, at least I thought I did. He was saying something about her being stupid and brash, something about her spending all his money? Whatever these rich snobs complain about. She said something back, but she was quiet. I heard something about ‘donating it all to charity’. He didn’t like that very much, not at all actually. His face looked like a damn tomato, he shoved her. Hard. She fell, flipping over and over. She landed by me,” He shook his head, pushing away from the table. “I never killed anyone. I would never. The way…oh god. The way her neck was twisted. The blood,” He shook his head again, bringing his hands to his face, “What kind of monster kills his own mother?”

Jennifer set her pen down and crossed the room to pat him on the shoulder. She met Drew’s gaze. He was leaning back in his seat, staring at her with open praise. He gave a nod before standing with their items and heading to the door. “Thank you Dawson, that’s all we needed. Someone will be in in a few minutes to talk to you about what’s next.”

“What about Bruce?”

Jennifer smiled as she reached the door. “Sending someone to pick him up now.”

Dawson’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. He threatened to kill me if I told anyone.”

Jennifer closed the door behind her, hearing it click softly. Her team stood just on the other side of the one-way mirror. A round of applause met her smile. She hadn’t expected Dawson to be so easy to break. He was a thief but not a murderer. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that.

“That wrapped up nicely,” Drew squeezed her shoulder. “Just like you thought.”

“It was a combination of our theories actually. Who’s picking up Bruce?”

“We sent Crawford and Simmons to get him as soon as you said ‘Bruce’,” Delvin Mendez handed her a cup of coffee. “They should be back in about 40 minutes. You know he’s going to want a lawyer.”

Jennifer nodded. “Of course he will.”

“We have other news that ties nicely in with what Dawson said,” Delvin’s eyes shimmered in the light. “We were able to get her will.”

“And?”

Delvin handed the paper to Jennifer, Drew read the words over her shoulder.

“She changed it two weeks ago. The original is stapled there too. She left everything, I mean everything to charity. The house itself is being donated to an all girls’ school,Half of her fortune is being donated to the town’s social service department to be spread across the budget over the next twenty years, and the rest is being donated to a nature conservancy. There’s nothing in there for Bruce or his sister.”

Jennifer leaned against the wall, reading over the words. “Well. Here’s the motive and it confirms what Dawson said.”

“I think this calls for a celebration, dinners on me tonight guys.” Drew spoke to the room that had erupted into a chorus of congratulations for Jennifer. She was calmly sipping her coffee, staring into the room where Dawson was again being handcuffed. He glanced towards the mirror, and for a moment she thought he may have been able to see her. She hoped the trial would work out for him.

Drew was celebrating too early, she knew that, but didn’t have the heart to tell him so. She knew she would go to dinner with them that night and then return to her apartment alone.

As Dawson was led back to his cell, she turned to smile at the celebrating room behind her, trying to think on the bright side. The murder was solved.