Free Deceived by Stella Barcelona

the narrow street was cramped with cars. Taylor found the closest parking spot, which was on the far side of the block from the wood-frame house that bore the address of 2813. Pink paint was peeling. Tall weeds had overtaken the yard. There was no light in the windows. The front door gaped open. Some houses on the street looked the same, but others were better maintained. It was the type of neighborhood where she shouldn’t be alone at night, and she hesitated before stepping out of her car. She thought about driving away without getting out, but her memory of the feeling of Lisa’s tiny baby, resting on her shoulder, kept Taylor there.
    Her phone rang, startling her. “Sorry it’s taken me all day to get back to you. Brandon’s correct,” Joe said, with the call automatically defaulting to her car’s audio system. “He has access to the Smithfield home, but you don’t have to meet him there. I’ll do it.”
    “It isn’t a problem. I’m on my way,” she said. “Is there anything new?”
    “Let’s see. Fingerprints there belonged to Lisa and Brandon. There were hairs. Lab reports on that won’t be in until tomorrow. They’re likely hers, though. If the murderer went there, he didn’t leave signs of his presence. I’m thinking that the perp more likely was someone who frequented the Melody Street neighborhood and happened to see her.” Joe paused. “Brandon told me you checked his alibi. I’m not one to kill initiative, but you didn’t need to do that.”
    “Tomorrow’s my last day. My legal work is finished,” she said, “so I had time. I knew that you and Tony didn’t. None of the D.A. investigators were around. I’ll put my notes in the file and send you an e-mail in the morning.”
    “I wish that you’d stay. The D.A.’s office needs lawyers who care,” Joe said.
    “I would if I could,” she said, sighing with a sharp pang of disappointment, then shaking it off. She clicked the call to hand-held and stepped out of her car, phone in one hand, keys in the other. “Did you find anything at the scene?”
    “No. Last night’s storm was a deluge. When we got to her, she was soaking. The water didn’t even leave her blood behind.”
    Night had reduced the day’s heat to just below miserable. Taylor was careful not to let her heels catch on the ridges and cracks in the uneven sidewalk. Only one streetlight worked on the block, and it was a few houses away. Joe wouldn’t be happy if he knew where she was, so she didn’t tell him. The yard of 2813 was bordered with sweet olive trees. The normally pleasant fragrance was cloying in the humid air. As she stood there, inhaling the night’s perfume, a tear fell for Lisa, then another. Taylor knew from the police report that the impact had thrown Lisa against her car. Now, another car was parked in its place. Lisa had fallen on the narrow swatch of grass between the sidewalk and the street. There were no indications of the prior night’s violence. Nothing marked where Lisa had died.
    Joe continued, “The perp either picked up the shell, or rainwater carried it away. We have the bullet, though. It went through her skull and lodged in her car. Ballistics aren’t back. Her car doesn’t look like he touched it. We talked to a few residents last night. No one saw or heard anything. I’ll go back to the neighborhood tomorrow, if I have time between meetings.”
    Taylor shook her head, pushing past her sadness and keeping her voice from wavering. “Did Brandon seem evasive to you?’
    “Brandon didn’t do this, Taylor.” Joe was silent, then said, “Lisa was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that happens way too often in this damn city. There’s a strong chance that we’ll never get near the perp, unless someone talks. The problem is that no one talks to us, and we don’t have time to make people talk. Tomorrow I’ll be in federally-mandated reform meetings most of the day.”
    Joe’s words painted a horrible truth that Taylor had