Detective Coleman

The telephone rings thrice in a row, waking a bare-chested Morgan Coleman from his slumber. He groans, rolling over on his back. It seems as if he has just laid down, but only two hours have passed. His groggy eyes open to the moonlight piercing through the dark brown drapes of his bedroom. Who dares to disturb his much-needed sleep? Sluggishly, Morgan reaches across his king-sized bed and picks up the telephone receiver. He mumbles, “Coleman. What is it?”

             “Sorry to wake you,” says Richard Nelson. “I know you just got off a case, but the captain wants your expertise on another one.”
              
 Wiping his eyes, he replies, “All right. I’ll be on my way.”

Morgan sighs, hanging up the telephone. He had just finished solving a double homicide the night before in Pittsburg. His plane just landed hours ago, and now it seems he is needed again. Crawling out of the comforts of his bed, he plants his size eleven feet on the carpeted floor. Swiping his eyeglasses off the nightstand beside him, he puts them on his face. He glances at the wall clock; it reads ten-twenty-five. His clothes are a bread crumb trail laying throughout the bedroom floor. One by one he collects his white, button-down dressed shirt, black slacks, T-shirt, belt, and black socks. Morgan dresses in a hurry. He grabs his badge and locks his front door before jumping into his navy blue 2010 Ford Edge SUV speeding to the police station.

It's not surprising that the captain wants his help. He has helped the force so much in the past, he’s built quite a rapport. Not to mention Morgan is well- known for his precise attention to detail. For it is that precision that earned his stellar reputation and a promotion to detective shortly after transferring to his current precinct. Morgan pulls up at the police station about 20 minutes later. He strolls in, having caught his second wind from the drive. Richard greets Morgan at the elevator doors.
Richard and Morgan are close friends, having grown together in Georgia as neighbors. They also attended the police academy together. When they were children, they enjoyed playing their favorite game: cops and robbers. Now they are grown men. Detectives working to catch real homicide cases.
The gentlemen steps into the elevator. “I’m sorry to disturb your rest, Morgan.” Richard expresses, pressing the third floor button.

Turning to Richard, Morgan says, “Don’t worry about it. Crime doesn’t rest. Why should I? So, what do we have?”

Richard hands Morgan a file with the name “Carter” on it. Morgan begins to scan through the file as he listens to Richard speak, “Victim’s name is Jamie Carter. She was murdered about an hour ago. It was somewhat of a death of passion; eight stab wounds to the chest. The victim worked at a modeling agency downtown—the crime scene. The morgue is working on an autopsy.”

The elevator bell rings and the two men step off the elevator onto the third floor. They walk into Captain Smitt’s office at the end of the hallway. Captain Smitt stands over Morgan’s five foot and ten-inch frame at six foot two with broad shoulders. He sports a platinum blond buzz haircut and is dressed in a casual green button up shirt and khaki pants. His shirt sleeves are rolled up exposing half sleeve tattoos on both triceps which he collected throughout his ten years in the Army. 
 
“Glad you’re here, Detective Coleman.” Captain Smitt welcomes with a firm handshake.

“It’s my job, sir. Richard filled me in a little on the Carter case. File shows the victim was only twenty-four years old?” Morgan replies.

“Yeah, she was young.” Captain Smitt agrees as he hands Morgan pictures of Jamie’s dead body at the crime scene. The victim is a young, fair-skinned woman. Her petite body is stretched out on the tile floor. Her hands are well-manicured and her ginger hair conceals most of her face. Blood seeping  through her business attire. “We have the witness who found her body at the office, a custodian. He’s in the interrogation room, waiting.”
        
 “Sure, Cap. I’ll speak with the custodian then Richard and I will head to the crime scene.”

Morgan takes a moment to review the file once more before going into the interrogation room. Morgan opens the door, observing the anxious male janitor. The janitor’s hands are shaking as sweat drips from his bald head to his pale white face. He’s older than Morgan expects, looking to be in his late sixties. Morgan sits at the rectangular metal table opposite the witness. Morgan looks the janitor in his eyes and introduces himself.

“My name is Detective Morgan Coleman. I am the detective assigned to this case. Can you tell me what you saw tonight?”

“Well, it was late. Too late for anybody to be in the building. I had my radio on my cleaning cart, listening to some jazz music. I was about to clean the fifth floor, like I do every night. Miss Carter worked on that floor. She was such a sweet girl. She made me brownies once, you know? Anyways, I came off the elevator with my cleaning cart. I didn’t see anybody. I went around the corner towards the ladies’ restroom because I always clean there first.” He pauses, fighting back tears. “I opened the door and saw Miss Carter’s body on the floor. She wasn’t moving. I stepped closer and saw all that blood on her chest. I immediately called 9-1-1.”

“So, when you came around the corner, you didn’t see anything out of place or missing? Did you hear anything at all?”

“No, sir. I didn’t notice anything like that.”

While writing on his notepad, Morgan investigates, “Do you know of anyone who’d want to hurt Miss Carter?”

Shaking his head, “No one comes to mind. Like I said, she was a sweet girl and a hard worker too. Some nights I would see her leave the building later than everyone else. She and I would speak from time to time.”

“What would the two of you talk about?” Morgan asks.

He tells Morgan how he and the victim would discuss life and her ambitions. Her wanting to be more than an assistant. She wanted to become a model one day. He informs Morgan that Jamie had been engaged for a few months, though Jamie never mentioned the date of the wedding. Morgan asks him when Jamie began working at the agency. But he does not know the answer.
              
 Morgan thanks the janitor for his cooperation, shaking his hand. He tells him that he is no longer needed, but will be contacted if more questions emerge. Morgan exits the interrogation room, going to find Richard and enlighten him with the new information. Leaving the police station, they head towards downtown. Once reaching the high-rise office building, they enter and read the directory posted on the wall next to the lobby. Benson Modeling Agency, fifth floor.

Morgan and Richard enter the fifth floor as the forensics team wraps up collecting evidence. Morgan imagines what the janitor saw as he observes studies the crime scene. He cannot help but see two workstations only a few yards away from the elevator. On one desk, the name Lynda Hall is engraved on the nameplate. It’s full of office supplies, small pictures frame, and decorative trinkets. Directly across from Lynda’s desk was Miss Carter’s desk. Her desk is bare, having only a stapler and a small pile of mailing envelopes and pens neatly aligned across the front of the desk. The only personal item Morgan sees on the desk is a six inch by eight-inch picture frame.

Chester, the head of the forensics team, approaches Morgan and Richard. Chester informs the detectives of the evidence found. He tells them that there are marks on the floor, trailing from Jamie’s desk into the ladies’ restroom, indicating that Jamie was dragged from her desk. He shows Morgan and Richard the evidence bag with red glass inside it, which was retrieved from the floor. Chester imagines the glass came from a lamp shade. He says that the remainder of the broken glass lamp is missing. Assuming the killer took the lamp, Morgan glances at the ceiling of the office space. He notices a black security camera. The camera is in between the men and ladies’ restroom, which is not far from Jamie’s desk.

“Somebody was watching while the murder was in progress. Who was the security on duty?” Morgan asks Richard.

“We already got his statement. He claims that he didn’t hear or see anything. He says that the security camera by the restroom is broken and has never been replaced. He said that the victim was known for working late and was courteous.” Richard answers.
               
Both Morgan and Richard put on latex gloves as they enter the ladies’ restroom. The chalk outlined of the victim’s body is on the restroom floor. A yellow card is inside of the chalk outline. Morgan immediately notices that the window in the restroom is ajar. He walks to it. The night’s breeze blows on Morgan’s face. The killer could’ve escaped through the window Morgan supposes. But how did the killer get to the ground when they are on the fifth floor? Morgan turns around, examining the tiled floor and something catches Morgan’s attention. He walks over and squats down adjacent to the chalk outline. Pushing his eyeglasses to his face, he picks up a strand of blond hair.
           
“Richard.” He calls out.

Richard exits one of the stalls. “Better get it to Chester.” The two men leaves the restroom.

Chester takes the strand of DNA from Morgan. Amazed by Morgan’s discovery, Chester states, “I thought we got everything.”

“Almost. You may wanna have your team come back and look through the crime scene again. I’m going to need to know whose hair this is as soon as possible.” Morgan says standing. Chester nods his head.

          Morgan goes to the workstation. At Jamie’s desk, he holds up the only picture frame. In the picture, Jamie is smiling brightly as her right arm extends out for the frame while her left arm drapes around the narrow shoulders of a young man with blond hair. The man’s lips are pressed on Jamie’s cheek and his hand holds her chin. This must be the fiancé the custodian mentioned previously. 

“I think it’s time to visit Miss Carter’s residence.” he states to himself.




Richard and Morgan parks in front of Jamie’s and her fiancé’s address. Morgan inspects the neighborhood with his eyes. It is definitely a middle-class neighborhood, he thinks. Every lawn looks nicely kept and trimmed, the streets are clean, and no one roams throughout the neighborhood past nine o’clock. The community is not gated, but it’s very quiet. Richard and Morgan walk to the front door and knock, saying those famous words. “It’s the police, open up!” No one opens the door. All the lights seem to be turned off. Richard knocks harder on the door, repeating himself. Still, silence. They turn towards the police car, walking.

“Guess we gotta come back. He doesn’t appear to be home.” Richard suggests getting in the police car. “I’m starting not to like this so-called fiancé. It’s almost twelve at night and he’s nowhere to be found. And on the night your fiancée just passed away? Not a good look. No sir, not a good look.”

The following morning, Morgan arrives at the police station early. He goes to his desk and takes out Jamie’s file. Morgan reviews the crime scene photos and the written statements from both witnesses: the security guard and custodian. Day two, Morgan has gotten nowhere in the case and there’s missing a lot. Richard approaches Morgan with coffee and good news.

“Good morning, detective. Guess whose last night’s DNA belongs to?” Richard greets with a wide grin on his face.

“I’m guessing another witness or the murderer?”

“It’s Mr. Kevin Peterson, aka the victim’s fiancé who wasn’t home last night. I vote we go pay Mr. Peterson visit. Yes?”

         Morgan grabs his suit jacket, heading to the elevator. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Richard and Morgan once again drive to the victim’s house. This time Jamie’s fiancé answers the door on the first knock. There stands a scrawny, narrow shouldered, blond-hair Kevin Peterson, wearing a white button-up shirt and dress pants. Clearly this Kevin is a businessman, Morgan assumes. Morgan and Richard flash their detective badges. Kevin welcomes them into his house where Morgan notices different expensive paintings on the walls. Morgan walks past a wooden box with the name Damascus on it. Morgan and Richard rest on the cashmere couch, slightly impressed.  

It surprises Morgan that Kevin’s house is very clean and tidy. There is no confirmation of Kevin in mourning or heartbroken of Jamie’s death. Odd, Morgan thinks, expecting Kevin to be distraught, and weeping like a little girl. But Kevin is the total opposite. He’s serene and well put together. How can that be?

“Mr. Peterson, my name is Detective Morgan Coleman. This is my colleague, Detective Richard Nelson. We are investigating your fiancé’s murder. We’ll like to ask you a few questions.” Morgan introduces.
            
   Kevin sits down in a chair across from Morgan and Richard, then pulls out his cigarette box from a drawer attached to the coffee table. Takes out one cigarette, and lights it, prompting Morgan to speak.

“We came to this address last night, but no one was here. Where were you last night, Mr. Peterson?” Morgan asks.

Kevin sits up straight and exhales a cloud of smoke. “I was out of town on a business trip.”

“Well, where exactly did you go?” Richard chimes in.

“Tampa, Florida.” Kevin replies then inhales his cigarette. “I was there for two weeks. I got a call from someone telling me that Jamie had died. I booked the earliest flight back that I could. Flew in town early this morning.”

 “Who called you and told you that Miss Carter is deceased?” Morgan questions.

“I don’t know, Detective. I didn’t recognize the phone number or the person’s voice. At first, I thought someone was playing a practical joke. But what sick person would play a joke like that?”
              
 Richard asks Kevin to describe what the person’s voice sounds like. Kevin takes a moment to recollect. He tells them that the voice was very deep, like a man’s voice. It was also a bit distorted. He had never heard a voice like that before and has no idea how this person received his cell phone number.

“Okay, we’re gonna have to get a copy of your cell phone records.” Morgan states. Kevin nods his head. “Do you know of anyone who would wanna hurt Miss Carter?”           
 
Shaking his head, Kevin firmly answers, “No, sir. Jamie was very friendly and kind-hearted. Even though we were having a few issues, she was still an angel. I can’t imagine someone wanting to take her life.”

“What kind of issues?” Richard questions.

According to Kevin, Jamie was hesitant about getting married and wanted to focus on her career. Jamie loved her job. Kevin says that Jamie began to change by staying out later and later. She also worked more hours to grab the attention of her boss. He notifies the detective that Jamie did begin to become condescending towards Kevin after she received a pay raise. Morgan can tell that upset Kevin. Kevin goes on to say Jamie’s behavior increased as months passed. He felt as if he and Jamie were growing apart because of her job. Morgan stares into Kevin’s eyes. He can see the anger in Kevin as he thinks about Jamie’s patronizing attitude. Richard can also sense the tension. Kevin is starting to look guilty in Richard’s eyes. Changing the subject, Morgan mentions, “We found strand of blonde hair at the crime scene. Forensic indicates that the hair is yours.”

  Kevin’s expression of rage turns into a look of confusion. “My hair couldn’t have been at the crime scene. I wasn’t there.” Kevin speaks, defending himself.

“Not according to your DNA, Mr. Peterson. Can you explain that?” Richard rudely inquires.

“There is nothing to explain! And I do not like your tone, Detective. I don’t appreciate what you’re getting at. In fact, I think I’m done answering questions.” Kevin replies, ramming the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table.

“Maybe we should leave,” Morgan butts in. He and Richard stand up. “If we have any further questions, we’ll come back. Thank you for your time.”
         The two men walk out of Kevin’s presence into the sunlight.

“Now why would you do that, Richard?” Morgan questions Richard back at the police station. He flops down at his desk as Richard pours him a cup of coffee. Morgan takes off his suit jacket, and then rubs his temples.

“C’mon Morgan, you know the man is guilty. I’ll contact his employer to see if his alibi checks out.” Richard says. “Every fiber of my being tells me that he is the killer.”




Later in the week, the telephone rings. Morgan answers. The janitor is on the other end of the telephone asking to meet at Benson Modeling Agency. He says he has more information. Morgan and Richard immediately leave the police station.

The janitor calls the detectives in the back alley of the office building. He has dark sunglasses on and a dark brown fedora. Morgan and Richard approach. The janitor tells them that he just realized something is missing. He noticed that a certificate that Jamie displayed on her desk is gone. The janitor remembers dusting that certificate every day. He also remembers how some of the other employees seem a little jealous of Jamie, bad-mouthing her.

“Do you know who this colleague is?” Richard inquires.

        He shakes his head. Both Morgan and Richard thank the janitor for the additional information. As the witness leaves, Morgan suddenly recalls the nameplate across from Jamie’s desk. The name Lynda Hall comes to mind. No one’s talked with her yet. Morgan calls the precinct, requesting Lynda Hall’s address. Morgan and Richard strap themselves into the police car.

Morgan drives to 322 Parkway Drive where the woman lives. This neighborhood is way different from the victim’s residents. That neighborhood was nice and peaceful. The area that Lynda Hall lives in is filled with people on the streets socializing. Graffiti on the walls of buildings. A few potholes plagued the street. He and Richard get out of the car, heading into the apartment. They look at the list on the wall to see which apartment belongs to Lynda Hall. Richard and Morgan go to apartment 351 on the third floor. The deafening cries of a baby echoes from inside of the apartment as they knock on the front door. A barefoot little girl opened the door. She looks about seven or eight years old wearing a faded tank top and dirty jeans with a messy bun on top her head.

“Hello?” the little girl questions.

“Sweetheart, who is at the door?” a woman inquires emerging from around corner with a screaming toddler on her hip. Stepping in front of the little girl, Morgan can see she’s barefoot too. It’s clear the baby has a full pamper. The stench coming from the children impales his nose. When is the last time she bathed, Morgan thinks to himself. Unlike the little girl, the woman’s causal clothes are neat and without wrinkles. Her hair’s slick back into a sleek ponytail. Her fingernail manicured with nude polish.

“Are you Lynda Hall, ma’am?” asks Richard as he reveals his badge placing it strategically under his nose.

Nodding her head, she gives the baby to the young girl as she steps into the hallway closing the door. Morgan and Richard introduce themselves and tell her about their investigation.

“How long did you work alongside Miss Carter? And what was your relationship like with her?” Morgan interrogates.

“Relationship?” Lynda chuckles, “Jamie and I weren’t friends. I did my work, and she did hers. The most I would say to the woman is hi and bye.”

“Miss Hall, what is your current position at Benson?” Morgan questions.

“I work at the front desk. You know, answering phone calls, schedule meetings, running errands for my supervisor, assisting the modeling agents, etcetera. Just like Jamie.”

“How long did the two of you work together?” Richard asks.

“She started there a little under a year, but I’ve been there going on two years.” She explains, “Jamie the definition of a suck-up, and a people pleaser, if you asked me. It seemed like she’d do anything anyone asked of her.”

“So, you and Miss Carter did not get along? Is that what you are saying?” Morgan implies.

“Now I did not say all of that. Don’t be putting words in my mouth, detective. I didn’t know her well enough to like or dislike her. And before you ask, no I don’t know who’d want to harm Jamie!” she says with attitude.

“Where were you the night Miss Carter was murdered?” Richard inquires.

“I was here, at home with my children.” She answers.

“Were you aware of her working late nights?”

“Yes,” scoffs Lynda. “One day she even asked me if I would like to stay back with her. I told Jamie that she was not a single mother with two children to feed. I mean, I get that she wanted to make a good impression, but she was starting to make me look bad. Lazy, even.”

“If my co-worker started to outshine me that would be upsetting, wouldn’t it?” Richard says.

“It did get to me sort of, but not enough to make me kill anybody.” The baby begins to cry again. Lynda opens the door wide enough so her body can squeeze through it. “If you would excuse me, detectives, my child is crying. No further questions.” she adds before slamming the door shut.

“Well, that was rather rude.” Richard expresses to Morgan.

“At least she did ask us to excuse her.” replies Morgan as he walks down the hallway. He and Richard discuss the case trying to piece things together. They believe that both Kevin and Lynda had motive and possibly opportunity. The camera at the crime scene does not work; Kevin’s DNA was there, which means he could have done it. Lynda clearly did dislike the victim, but there is no evidence against her. Morgan and Richard retire to the police station where they find Chester seated in Morgan’s office wearing a great big smile on his face. This can only mean one thing: the autopsy report is complete. Chester stands, handing Morgan the autopsy report. The report shows that Jamie bled to death. Chester also updates them on the murder weapon. According to the autopsy, Jamie was killed with an eight inch carving knife.

“But not just any holiday ham type of carving knife.” Chester says. Chester points to the picture explaining, “These marks on the chest? It could not have been a regular kitchen knife. The skin is kind of curved in from the stabs. It looks like a smooth and easy cut.”

“Did you say that the skin is curved in?” Richard asks. Chester nods. “There are only a few brands of carving knifes I know that would do that when stabbing.” 

“What are you talking about, Richard?” Morgan speaks.

“Two Thanksgivings ago, my little brother tried to carve the turkey. Now that was always my dad’s job. But instead of actually carving the thing, my brother nearly stabs it. That part of the turkey was curved inward because of the angle it was stabbed. My dad had to fix it. He showed my brother the right way to carve a turkey and he used to say ‘smooth and easy cutting, just like the box said’. Dad always used a Shun Damascus carving knife.”
              
 Morgan remembers the wooden box from Kevin’s house. It said Damascus on the top of it. Morgan tells Richard and Chester about the wooden box. He and Richard rush back to Kevin’s home. They knock on the door as they did before. Opens the door, Kevin rolls his eyes. Richard pushes Kevin out of the doorway. He spots the wooden box. Richard grabs the box and opens it.

“Hey, put that down! You people just can’t bombard your way into my house. You think because you carry a badge you can do anything you want?” Kevin angrily declares.
     
        Richard turns around to show Morgan what is in the box. There is dry blood on the handle of one of the carving knives. There are three carving knives total. Morgan shakes his head.

“I wonder who this belongs to.” Richard sarcastically states.

“Yes, that was father’s knives. He gave them to me. So what?!” Kevin says clueless.

“The carving knife is the murder weapon, Mr. Peterson. The killer used this to murder your fiancé.” Morgan explains.

“Wait a minute, you don’t think that I—that’s insane. I loved Jamie, why would I kill the woman I love?”

“You said it yourself. She made you feel like less of a man. You may have loved Miss Carter, but I think you love your pride more. Turn around, Mr. Peterson; you’re under arrest for the murder of Jamie Carter.” Richard says pulling out a set of handcuffs. “But you already knew that, right?”
              
 Morgan and Richard drag Kevin to the police car and put him in the back seat. During the drive to the police station Morgan reads Kevin his Miranda rights. Kevin exercising his right to remain silent, not voicing one word. That is until they arrive at the police station. Then Kevin breaks his silence and utters, “Attorney.”



Kevin sits in the interrogation room sipping a glass of water awaiting his attorney. Morgan sits down opposite a irritated Kevin. Morgan can tell that Kevin is not the killing type. Yes, the evidence points to him, and he has the motive and opportunity, but Morgan’s gut tells him something is still off. And he is determined to find out what.
             
  “I’m telling you, someone is framing me.” Kevin finally breaks the silence.

“Is that right? Well from where I’m sitting it looks like you are the killer. Your hair was in the crime scene. That call you got the night of the murder led us nowhere. You had the bloody murder weapon sitting in your living room, which is now evidence. They are checking for fingerprints as we speak. So, tell me, how are you innocent?”

“Detective Coleman, I swear I did not hurt Jamie. I loved her. My hair must’ve been planted at the crime scene, and someone could’ve stolen my carving knife. Remember I told you I was out of town for two weeks. Call my supervisor, ask him!”

“We already done that, but your boss said that you were supposed to be in Tampa for only one week not two. He said that the rest was vacation time. Why did you stay an extra week?”

Kevin sighs. “Jamie and I had a huge fight over the phone the last night I was scheduled in Florida.

“About what?”

“It seemed like she was spending so much time at that modeling agency. I know how much she wanted to break into the modeling industry. But she wasn’t making time for us. So, I confronted her about her working late so much. I accused her of cheating, and she got offended. Started to yell at me. I didn’t want to come home to that, so I lied and told her I had to stay another week. I just wanted time for both of us to cool down.” Kevin’s voice begins to break. “Had I known that she’d die, I never would have stayed. Listen, I already have to live with that guilt. So trust me when I say, I didn’t kill my fiancée.”

         Morgan can feel the sincerity in Kevin’s voice. A man that heartfelt and genuine could not have killed anybody. Morgan decides to pay Lynda Hall one more visit. He leaves the police station and goes to Lynda’s apartment. Fortunately, the front door is already open. Calling for Lynda, he lets himself into the apartment. Boxes are packed up and there is no furniture in sight. Morgan sees a wall closet in the corner. He puts on latex gloves from his pocket. Morgan walks to the closet and slowly opens it.

Barely anything is in it. But something pokes out from the back on the closet. Morgan pulls out a plastic bag from the closet. Inside of the plastic bag is the missing red lamp from the crime scene. It is broke and the gold handle has a small blood stain on it. Morgan knows that there is no way that Lynda could have gotten the lamp unless she was at the crime scene the night of the murder. Morgan’s cell phone rings.

“It’s Chester, Detective Coleman.”

Chester informs Morgan that there are numerous fingerprints on the carving knife. The dry blood belongs to Jamie. Chester tells Morgan that Kevin’s fingerprints are on the knife, but there is an additional partial fingerprint on the carving knife. It is Lynda’s. Morgan smiles ending the call and turns around. Lynda makes her way in the apartment. She sees the plastic bag in Morgan’s hand.

“Detective, what are you doing here?” she asks innocently.

“I think you know why, Ms. Hall.” Morgan answers.
       
        Lynda drops the purse she has in her hand. She flees out of the apartment but is stopped by Richard at the end of the hallway. Morgan walks out of the apartment where Richard and Lynda are.

“Dang! You almost got away with it, if it wasn’t for those meddling detectives.” Richard shouts with cynicism cuffing Lynda’s hands.

“Nice move letting Kevin take the fall. And he would have, but I had a feeling that he was telling us the truth. So how did you do it? We already know why. I mean, you were clearly jealous. Everyone liked Jamie, she was queen bee. She got all of the praise from folks and a raise on top of that.” Morgan says.

“Plus, she was so young and pretty, childless, and about to get married. And you, on the other hand, a single mom having two kids to feed. She was beginning to get noticed for her hard work.” Richard adds.

“Yeah. So what happened that night, Ms. Hall?” Morgan questions.

“I hated Jamie’s guts. I knew she’d be working late so I wanted to put her in her place. Let her know that she wasn’t better than anyone. She was always bragging about her raise and her pending marriage. I just got so fed up with it. I went there just to talk to her. But then she was ignoring me. She tried to dismiss me. So, I slapped her. Then she shoved me back.

Before I knew it, we were tussling around her desk like a bunch of kids. She was on top of me leaning against the desk, urging me to calm down. She called me crazy. That’s when I lost it. I grabbed the lamp and hit her with it. After that she passed out onto the floor and I felt more powerful than ever.”

“Then what happened?” Morgan asks.

“I dragged her by her feet all the way into the ladies’ bathroom. I took out the knife from my purse I swiped from the break room a couple of days before at the company potluck. I stabbed her one time. Then I just kept stabbing her over and over again.” Water flows from Lynda’s eyes as she continues “Deep down inside, I didn’t want to hurt Jamie, but I couldn’t stop. After I realized what I did, I went back and took the lamp. Then I remembered her fiancé’s hairbrush was in her desk drawer. I took a strand of hair and put it beside her body to make it look like he did it.”

“So how did you escape without anyone seeing you?” Richard jumps in.

“Luckily, the window cleaner’s platform was just outside the bathroom window. I opened the window, jumped down onto the platform, and never looked back. Honestly, I didn’t want it to come to this.”

With Lynda’s confession, Morgan and Richard direct Lynda to the stairs. They place her in the back seat of the police car. Once they arrive at the police station, Kevin is released from custody. Kevin cries in disbelief as he watches Lynda being processed. Richard walks up to Kevin and apologizes. Captain Smitt comes out of his office to talk to Morgan.

“Looks like we got our killer. Good police work, detective.”

“It wasn’t solely my doing, Cap.” Morgan replies.

“I know. Hey, why don’t you and Richard take the rest of the night off? Have a drink on me.” Captain says handing Morgan a few dollar bills.

“Not going to say no to that.” Richard interjects, smiling. “First round’s on Cap. Next round is on you Morgan.”

Feeling a sense of pride, Morgan puts on his suit jacket. He walks toward the elevator with Richard at his heels. He pushes the ground floor button. The case was closed, and another murderer is going to serve her time. Morgan’s job is officially done. . . . for now.