Chapter 51
Amotion sensor activated the ambient light.
The closet was larger than my dorm at college.
It was more like an upscale boutique. Rows and rows of designer shoes in backlit cubbies.
An impressive sneaker collection. Expensive suits and designer dresses.
Dark hardwoods in a herringbone pattern added sophistication.
A center island housed various drawers and a top display case for watches that cost more than cars.
At the far end, a three-way, full-length mirror.
Eddie stepped into the closet and surveyed the dresses. He pulled a black sleeveless Donna Vatelli from the rack. Eddie looked it over and handed it to me.
“It’s not my size.”
“Lisa was wearing this when she shot Eden. She sent it to the dry cleaner.”
There was a good chance the dry cleaning had actually preserved the DNA, as opposed to tossing it into the wash with bleach.
I fumbled through my pockets for nitrile gloves. I pulled out a pair, then snapped them on.
Eddie came across with a hard left hook. His meaty fist clocked my jaw and twisted my head aside. The blow rattled my skull and sent a shockwave down my spine. The tinny, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
I came back like a cobra with a hard left. My knuckles cracked his face and bent his nose. Blood spewed, and he staggered back.
He threw another left.
I blocked and put a hard left into his rib cage.
Eddie buckled over with a groan.
I followed with an uppercut to his jaw. It knocked his head back, and he tumbled to the ground.
My hand grabbed my pistol, and I took aim. “Don’t move! Roll onto your stomach and put your hands behind your head.”
Eddie complied.
I approached with caution, knelt down, and slapped the cuffs on his wrists. “Dumbass,” I muttered before reading him his rights.
I called dispatch and had them send patrol units.
Deputies arrived and found their way in through the back door. I told them to consider the entire closet evidence and not to disturb anything. We secured the area, and I yanked the dirtbag to his feet and escorted him out of the house.
“Bad choice,” I said as I walked Eddie down the driveway.
I stuffed him into the back of a patrol car and slammed the door.
Forensic investigators arrived, collected the dress and everything else in the closet. Maybe Eddie was full of it, and the whole ploy was a ruse to catch me off guard. Or maybe there was some truth to it.
I returned to the station, filled out a report, then paid Eddie a visit in the interrogation room. “Genius move.”
He frowned and said nothing.
“Start talking. Run me through the whole scenario again. You better pray we find blood evidence on that dress.”
After a long moment of silence, Eddie said, “I’m not saying anything else without a lawyer.”