Murder, deception, drugs, sex,  and a whole lot of trickery made for some spicy living in the slumbering town of Columbia. It was a quiet, small town nestled along the river.  A few large businesses called it home, but mostly it was a town with simple people and simple lives; at least, that’s what it looked like from the outside looking in. Lately, some of its fine citizens added a handful of bitter seasonings to the kettle, and it was about to boil over. 

“Chief, Ric’s on his way up with the preliminaries on the Culbertson murder,” Triston yelled from her desk. 

“Great! Maybe we can say something at the press conference, depending on what they found.”

Chief O’Shea couldn’t have been happier. First, the press conference about the hijacking and releasing the names of those involved would get him much desired attention. Telling the fine citizens of Columbia about Dwight Culbertson's murder and a suspect about to be apprehended was phenomenal.

Ric walked straight into the Chief’s office and handed him a copy of the forensics report. “Tell me what it says, Ric. I know you studied it from the second it was in your hands.”

Ric grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I wanted to know. It’s not cut and dry, but it’s not looking good for the girl either.”

“Quit dancing around. What does it say?”

“Forensics found three sets of fingerprints in Culbertson’s bedroom other than his own. The first set belongs to Daisy Mae Collins. She’s got an outstanding warrant in Oakdale for solicitation and theft. She was bringing him food, beer, and a red rose. “ 

“What did any woman see in that scum? He’s got Nancy from Last Chance going cuckoo  over him too.”

“Yeah, she was the second set of prints, which of course, we expected. How do we know she didn’t walk in on him and Daisy or some other girl? Nancy’s got a hot temper. She wouldn’t have given it a second thought if Dwight crossed her.”

“And the third? Let me guess, our runaway? Guess hitting him over the head didn’t satisfy her.”

“In her defense, Chief, we have no evidence of that at all. Just Culbertson’s word.”

“I suppose. You’ve held me in suspense long enough. Whose fingerprints are on the murder weapon?"

“The knife handle was smudged like someone tried to wipe it, but we did find one good print. It belonged to Beth Culbertson.”

“Triston put a call into Judge McKay. Tell him we need a warrant for Beth Culbertson’s arrest for the murder of her father, Dwight Culbertson.”

“Chief, aren’t we going to at least investigate the other two? There’s no definite time of death yet. Forensics said about another two hours before the autopsy would be complete.”

"That press conference is in one hour. We’ve got enough information for the warrant, and I want to be able to tell the city of Columbia that we’ve solved the latest murder. Besides, she already tried to kill him; I can fall back on that case too.”

“Jumping the gun, aren’t we?”

“I’m in charge, and I say we announce the drug hijacking and the murder at the same time. We’ll give the Gazette some big headlines.” Chief O’Shea leaned back in his chair, fingers laced across his stomach with the biggest Cheshire cat smile possible.

“She lives in that house. Her fingerprints could be on that knife because she used it.”

“Yeah, to kill her father.”

 “There are other prints in that room. Why is the food scattered everywhere? Who brought the rose? His girlfriend? Or was he cheating, and she caught them?”

“Get the warrant. You can figure this other stuff out after the press conference. The elections are in three weeks. That little girl just handed me the winning ticket. I’m not squandering it.”

Triston stood in the doorway. “Judge McKay issued the warrant. He said he likes hundred-year-old bourbon.” She shook her head and returned to her desk.

Ric was fuming. Never had they ever jumped the gun like this before. “I hope you’re right.”

He stood to leave the office.

“Of course, I’m right. Now get out on those streets and find her. I want her arrested before the end of the day.” 

**********

“Bert, it’s Ric. You got a few minutes?”

Bert smiled and quickly replied, “Actually, Hank and I were having lunch over at the Chalet. Are you close by?”

“I’d love to, but the Chief is calling a press conference in ten. I wanted to give you a heads up.” He paused, then added, “Dwight Culbertson was murdered.”

“Oh, gosh no! Are you sure it was murder?” Bert turned to Hank, “Culbertson was murdered. Ric, let Hank and me find a little privacy so I can put you on speakerphone.”

Hank and Bert hurried to the side terrace. “Okay, Ric, there’s no one around. Go ahead.”

“Dispatch got a call last night. A woman reported a stabbing at the Culbertson home.  That was all, and then she hung up.”

“Could you trace the call? What time did this happen? Are there any suspects?” Bert and Hank rattled off questions left and right.

“The autopsy isn’t complete yet, but the preliminary forensic report is in, and the Chief wants to jump on it.”

"How can he without the time of death confirmed and the weapon?” Bert questioned.

“What aren’t you telling us, Ric? Either tell us now, or we hear it in five minutes.” Hank didn’t like the direction the conversation was headed.

“Yeah, you're right. Judge McKay issued a warrant for Beth Culbertson’s arrest on suspicion of murder. Chief’s jumping all over it. Going to announce it at the press conference.”

You mean to tell me that he’s not even going to investigate or wait for the autopsy report?” Hank fumed. “You are aware, if he’s wrong, he can kiss his career goodbye.”

“I know it. You know it. But the Chief thinks this is a gift from God since the elections are only three weeks away.”  Ric let a puff of air seep through his lips before adding, “He’s going to try and have her prosecuted as an adult. That’s why I called you Bert.”

“An adult! First of all, she wouldn’t murder anyone, and second of all, she’s a juvenile.”

“He was tied up and stabbed with a carving knife from their kitchen. The girl can’t even plead self-defense. I’m sorry, Bert. We’ve got half of the department out patrolling, looking for her.”

“Not if I can find her first.” Bert handed the phone to Hank, “I’ll be right back.” She went inside and pulled the waitress aside. “Could I use your phone for a quick call, please?”

The waitress laughed. “For you, anything, Bert. Go in the office.”

“Thanks, Judy.”

Bert hurried into the office, shut the door, and grabbed the phone receiver. She dialed and prayed that Maize would answer.

“Hello.”

“Maize, it’s Bert. I only have a second. Is Beth with you?”

“Yes, she came last night, and her friends came this morning, too.”

“I don’t have time to explain, but you need to keep her hid till I get there. I am on my way. Do you understand, Maize?”

“Something’s happened?” Maize didn’t want to scare the teenagers. 

“Yes, big time. Make sure no one sees Beth, okay, Maize? I am on my way.” Bert hung up the phone and rushed back to Hank. 

Hank was waiting for her when she returned to the terrace. “Guess we get lunch to go, huh?”

“No time. I’ve got to get to Beth before the cops do.” Bert was anxious.

“Do you know where to look?” Hank's eyebrows rose. “Have you been hiding her?”

“She went to the shelter last night, and my friend called me. I just talked to her, and she’s going to keep Beth out of sight until we get there. That is if you want to come with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Let’s go. We’ll take my car; it’s faster and less noticeable.”

“You’re correct there.” Bert hurried toward the exit. “Hank, they can’t arrest her and charge her as an adult, can they?”

“They certainly can try. The Chief’s committing suicide if he’s not going to investigate first. The case can’t be that cut and dry unless her fingerprints are on the knife.”

“They can’t be, Hank. She wouldn’t … she couldn’t murder even that piece of garbage she calls her father.”

Hank held the car door for Bert and then hurried to the other side. Climbing in, he started the car and pulled into the line of traffic.