CAMPBELL WALKEDINTOthe office of Police Chief Gloria Schecter. Pushing sixty, she was slim in her uniform and had ash-blond hair in a piecey pixie cut. She had been a lieutenant when his father worked in the department and served as his boss.
Sitting in a brown leather chair at an adjustable-heightcorner desk, Gloria looked at him through oval glasses with blue eyes and said levelly, “Detective Sawyer…”
“Chief.” Campbell took a couple of steps forward. “As you know, I’m looking into the Mia O’Dell death on Founder’s Day.”
“Yes—she OD’d, right?”
“Yeah,” he responded, “and may have been helped—over and beyond tracking down the dealer—”
“Uh, okay…” Gloria sat back. “So, where are we in the investigation?”
Campbell regarded her. “I’m checking out the possibility that Mia’s death could be connected to the death of Lynda Boxleitner twenty years ago, which my father was investigating.”
Gloria leaned forward, interest piqued. “Are you, now?”
“Both were found naked at the park on Founder’s Day, poisoned to death, and with a tattoo on their right forearm that bore the initials of the Braison Family leaders—Wendell Braison and Kenneth Braison, accordingly.” Campbell took the liberty of sitting on an armless fabric guest chair across from the desk, then continued, “Since you were my dad’s lieutenant then, I was wondering if there’s anything you can remember about the Lynda Boxleitner homicide case that might help with the investigation?”
Gloria pushed up her glasses thoughtfully and replied, “I assume you’ve spoken with Mason about this?”
“Yeah, we’ve talked,” Campbell confirmed. “He’s told me what he remembered and is digging through some old files on the case. I’ve also checked with the Cold Case Unit and am looking to see if anything clicks.”
Gloria drew a breath and said deliberately, “I rememberwhen Lynda Boxleitner was dumped at the park, after having been fatally poisoned and disrobed by presumably her killer. We investigated the homicide thoroughly, led by Mason—Detective Sawyer—but couldn’t quite make the case for pinning the murder on the number one suspect—”
“Wendell Braison,” Campbell finished.
“That’s correct,” Gloria told him. “Wendell had his fair share of supporters, but not in this department. We went strictly by the book and believed him to be responsible for the death. We tried to get the necessary evidence to make an arrest.” She frowned. “But it didn’t work out, unfortunately.”
That’s obvious, as Dad has never gotten it out of his system, Campbell thought. “Were there any other serious suspects?” he asked, though knowing from his father and his own research into the case that no one else stood out that fit the bill.
Gloria backed this up. “No one that we could lay a finger on,” she stated. “And with Wendell Braison maintaining his innocence until his death—though we had serious reservations about that—I guess that’s why the case went cold over the years. Till now.”
“If Braison didn’t kill Lynda Boxleitner,” Campbell speculated, “it means her killer could still be alive in the community—and targeted Mia O’Dell as a follow-up, for whatever reason. The different poisons used in the deaths could be strictly a matter of accessibility in different eras.”
“Perhaps.” Gloria planted her arms on the desk. “Or we could havetwokillers and only one still alive—and out for blood.”
“True.” Campbell tried to keep an open mind, thoughwanting to do right by his father and believe Wendell Braison was behind the lethal poisoning of Lynda Boxleitner. If this could be proved.
“You might want to talk to Officer Jerry Napolitano,” Gloria told him. “He was the first responder when Boxleitner’s body was discovered and may have some thoughts. Jerry’s still on the force. Unfortunately, he’s currently on the Big Island of Hawaii right now, celebrating his thirty-fifth wedding anniversary with his wife, Orla.”
“I’ll catch up with him when he gets back,” Campbell said, seeing no reason to disrupt his trip by calling. Especially since he doubted Napolitano would have much more to offer than Campbell’s own father in the investigation into Lynda’s death. “Thanks for your time, Chief,” he said, standing.
Gloria nodded. “If O’Dell’s death is in any way, shape or form associated with Boxleitner’s murder, I’d love to be able to close both cases in one fell swoop. If not, getting to the root of why Mia O’Dell had to die will have to suffice. In the meantime, my door’s always open.”
“I’ll remember that,” Campbell said, knowing that his father, who had spoken highly of her as always having his back during his years on the force, felt the same way.
After leaving the office, he exchanged a few words on the investigation with Georgina, who had taken a strong interest in Mia’s case. Turned out that Brandy Peñaflor, the sister of Georgina’s deputy sheriff boyfriend, Ted Peñaflor, had been dealing with opioid use disorder—or opioid addiction—off and on for years. As this hit too close to home, Georgina wanted to try to get Mia’s drug supplier off the streets, at the very least.
Campbell was on the same page there, though he hopedto connect a few more points in the scheme of things that could tie together two poisonous deaths.
After leaving the building and stepping into the sunshine, he called Stefanie, wanting to invite her to dinner. He hoped she didn’t have other plans.
“Hey,” he said when she answered.
“Hey.” Stefanie’s voice had a pleasant cadence to it.
“If you’re free, I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me this evening at my place?”
“Of course,” she said quickly. “I’d be happy to join you for dinner.”
