My Private Detective

Embarrassed, Heidi forced herself to look anywhere except at the man who held their class in thrall.

The next hour was illuminating. Just as they were all feeling pleased by his praise of their crime-scene workups, he showed the class why he was the expert.

Standing at the chalkboard, Detective Poletti proceeded to change, embellish and add to their pitiful efforts, explaining all the while. He did it with a speed and clarity that took her breath.

By the time he’d finished, the class sat there in stunned silence. He’d filled two blackboards with onsite procedures they’d never even considered, despite the textbook murder case he’d prepared for them as a guide.

“Don’t bother to copy this down. While I pass back your stories, Kevin’s going to give you a handout of what I put on the board so you can study it at home.” He motioned to his son.

“You’ll notice when you get your synopses that I’ve made a few suggestions for crime-scene procedures. Combined with the handout you’re receiving, you ought to be able to create a credible list that’ll add authenticity to your novels.”

Heidi found herself wishing she had a copy of the crime-scene report that had been written the night of Amy’s murder. Something told her it would pale in comparison to what she could see written on her blackboards. The detail, the number of procedures, the orderly exploration of evidence—she doubted the real crime-scene report was a fraction as thorough as this fictional one. First thing in the morning she intended to phone John Cobb’s office to get what information she could.

Deep in thought, she didn’t realize the boy had already started giving them the handouts. Everyone tried to engage him in conversation. Judging from his answers, he was embarrassed by all the attention. A pretty typical reaction for a boy his age.

“Thank you, Kevin.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You must be proud of your father.”

“I am.”

“Are you going to be a police officer one day?”

“Maybe.”

“Where’d you get your blond hair?”

“My mom.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Eight.”

“Where do you go to school?”

“Oakdale Middle School.”

Heidi listened to the litany of questions that would have driven any of her own students crazy, too. He wasn’t a baby, but they were treating him like one. He showed remarkable poise by answering them, despite his obvious reluctance.

As he drew closer, she darted him a brief glance. He was a cute boy, but she couldn’t really see any resemblance to his attractive father. Sometimes that happened.

Dana, for instance, didn’t look like her parents nearly as much as Amy had. But Amy’s jealousy over Dana’s beauty and popularity had poisoned her soul long before someone had murdered her. That someone wasn’t Dana!

When it came Heidi’s turn, she thanked Kevin for the handout, remembering what he’d said about attending Oakdale Middle School. It was only a few miles from Mesa Junior High. That meant the Poletti family lived in Mission Beach.

None of it mattered of course. The fact that the detective’s residence was close to Heidi’s workplace should mean nothing to her.

Gideon Poletti was a professional. So if she was going to ask for his help, she needed to do it on a professional basis—and forget the way he made her heart pound.

He had a wife and child, for heaven’s sake! For all she knew, there were more children at home.

Disturbed by her preoccupation with him, she opened her notebook and took out her synopsis. As he left the room with his son, she immersed herself in Dana’s case. It was vital she make a compelling presentation. This was her one chance to capture the detective’s interest. Since he might recognize the case, she decided she’d better use real names.

CHAPTER FOUR

AFTER THEY’D BEEN to the drinking fountain down the hall, Gideon walked Kevin back to class.

“What do you think so far?”

“It’s pretty interesting. But can we please leave right at eight-thirty?”

“That’s when the class is over.”

“I know. But all those women are just like mom. They love to gab and they never know when to stop.

Promise you won’t let them?”

Gideon laughed. “It’s a deal.”

When they’d returned to the room, his students were back in their seats. He’d made eye contact with Heidi Ellis several times throughout the first hour, but she’d always looked away first. Such intriguing behavior had dominated his thoughts all evening.

Pleased to have reached this point in the class, he leveled his glance in her direction. Her head was lowered; she seemed to be studying her notes. Not for the first time did his breath catch at the sight of all that flaming hair splayed over her shoulders.

“Heidi? If you’re ready, we’ll hear from you now.”

As she got up from her desk, it was hard for him to pretend dispassionate interest. Her curves were particularly appealing in the short-sleeved black sweater and tailored, gray wool pants.

She cleared her throat. “Dana Turner, twenty-five, is slowly dying in her cell. She’s been imprisoned for the murder of her younger sister, Amy, nineteen, a murder Dana didn’t commit. She’s just learned that another detective hired by her parents after the trial has given up on her case for lack of new evidence.”

The tremor in her voice alerted Gideon that this was no fabrication. Why did the name Turner ring a bell?

“Her attorney believes in her innocence, but he’s told her there’s nothing more he can do unless dramatic evidence should surface, warranting a new trial.

“The police incident report stated that when Amy’s parents returned home from a dinner and discovered Amy’s bedroom on fire, they dragged their daughter’s unconscious body into the hall. She was pronounced dead by the paramedics who’d arrived soon after.

“Evidence of a physical struggle between the sisters before the fire was attested to in court. There were corresponding scratches and bruises on their bodies. Traces of Amy’s hair and skin were found on a ring and under the fingernails of Dana Turner.

“Combined with her fingerprints on the gas can in the Turners’ garage, this allowed the prosecuting attorney to convince the jury that Dana killed her sister in cold blood by knocking her unconscious. After Dana set her bedroom on fire, Amy was overcome by smoke inhalation and died.”

Heidi paused to put the paper on the desk in front of Gideon. To the class she said, “T-that’s all I have because I don’t know the ending yet.”

Judging by the silence in the room as she took her seat, her emotional presentation had made an impact on everyone. Their response when they did begin to comment suggested she had a winning story there.

Gideon got to his feet. “Thank you for your synopsis, Heidi.”

When he said her name, her head swerved in his direction. Their eyes met, and they held that same imploring expression he’d seen last Friday. He could sense all kinds of tension coming from her.