Mistaken Identity

Toni decides to interview the country club patrons while Jamal reviews the lodge's security footage. Everyone she spoke with insists Jill was loved by all and couldn't imagine anyone wanting her dead.

"There you are, sergeant." Jamal says, smiling as he steps up beside her.

"Did you find anything?"

"The only thing I saw was Jill chatting in the hall with a mystery woman. They looked like old friends. The woman left, and Jill went into the locker room to change."

"So, the killer could have been waiting for her inside."

Jamal shakes his head. "Only one other woman went into the dressing room this morning. She changed and left."

"Did you get the mystery woman's name?"

"No one seems to know who she is, and the camera didn't capture a clear enough image for facial recognition. The manager said that we'll need a warrant to access the sign-in sheet."

Rolling her eyes, Toni mutters, "He's back to that again, is he?"

"He claims he'll get fired if he doesn't follow the club's protocol."

"We still need to figure out who she is. You talk to the last of Emily's guests on your list while I work on getting that warrant."

***
Jamal heads to Brookwood Hills, arriving at a grand, three-story mansion. The sprawling white estate sits on 10 acres of impeccably maintained lawn. Groves flank both sides and the rear, offering additional privacy. Smaller bushes frame the property's expansive yard.

As he approaches, Jamal notes the imposing white pillars anchoring the front corners of the portico and the large shrubs guarding the entrance. Beyond them, two small turrets peek out from behind the brush, flanking smaller additions that stretch outward.

"How much space does one family need?" Jamal mutters, imagining his own cramped 250-square-foot micro apartment. He glances at one of the mansion's sprawling wings. That room alone is twice the size of my entire place.

Straightening his suit, Jamal knocks on the heavy front door. As he raises his hand to knock again, a young woman answers, feather duster in hand.

"May I help you?" she asks, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

Flashing his badge, Jamal replies, "I'm Detective Moore with the Atlanta PD. I need to speak with Mrs. Richards."

"Please, follow me." The maid leads him down a spacious hallway of dark oak. French doors line the corridor, the first set revealing a cozy study, the second, an expansive library. Jamal pauses to admire the dark oak shelves that climb from floor to ceiling, covering the outer wall.

Whistling, he remarks, "I doubt all of Atlanta's public libraries have as many books as the Richards do."

"They're avid collectors of rare and first editions from around the world." The maid slides open a glass door and announces, "Detective Moore is here to see you, ma'am."

Setting down her teacup, Mrs. Richards turns. "Please, show him in."

Jamal takes a seat on the pink floral couch across from her. "I need to ask you a few questions about what happened."

"It was horrible," Mrs. Richards begins, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "Hearing about my friend's death... I can't imagine they've figured out what caused it yet."

"We're still investigating." Jamal pulls a notebook from his pocket. "When was the last time you saw the deceased?"

 

"Just hours before it happened. Jill and some of the others joined me in welcoming Tess Cadwell to the neighborhood." Lowering her voice, Mrs. Richards leans in. "That was just our excuse, though. We really wanted to snoop since none of us had seen her since she and Steven split."

"Tess Cadwell?" Jamal repeats, recalling the sergeant's earlier words about her death.

"Yes. She said she used her investments to buy the old Winston place and even acted surprised when she heard about Steven and Lisa's demise. But we're convinced she knew and probably used Steven's money to buy the house. That's the only reason a woman like her would marry him for financial gain."

"So, you went to her house, and then?"

"She gave us a tour, and we left."

"Did anything unusual happen while you were there?"

"No, nothing."

"There weren't any disagreements?"

"Quite the opposite. Everyone was in high spirits, praising Tess for the work she'd done."

"Did you eat or drink anything while you were there?"

"She offered, but we declined."

"And you all left together?"

"Yes."

"And everyone seemed fine when you left?"

"As far as I could tell. Wait you don't think Tess had something to do with Jill's death, do you?"

"No, nothing like that. I wondered if Jill might have been unwell earlier and it led to her passing."

"She didn't mention anything to me and believe me, she would have. Jill goes on about even the tiniest thing," Mrs. Richards says, rolling her eyes.

"Were you two close?"

"We've been best friends since boarding school."

"I heard about a... secret society?"

Chuckling, Mrs. Richards replies, "I wouldn't call it that. My husband and I used to host gatherings with close friends. At least, we did until Emily passed. That night was just one of our little get-togethers."

"Did these parties happen often?"

"Twice a month. We took turns hosting so no one bore the entire cost."

"And no major disagreements among you?"

"If we argued, it was over small things like decor or food, nothing serious certainly not enough to lead to anyone's death."

"Could you give me a list of names?"

"I have the guest list from Emily's party in my den. Let me get it for you."

"We already have that."

"Then you have all the names."

***
Jamal updates his sergeant as he drives across town. "I was thinking about heading over to the old Winston place to check it out myself."

"Keep me posted."

"I will, Serge."

Pulling into the driveway, Jamal shuts off his car. This could be it, he thinks, dashing to the front door. He raises his hand to knock as the door swings open.

A tall, burly figure appears in the doorway, startling the woman inside. She jumps back with a scream but quickly regains her composure. "You startled me, officer," she says, trying to control her trembling hands.

"Are you Tess Cadwell?" Jamal asks.

"No, my name is Grace Morgan." Noticing the suspicious look on his face, she adds, "Would you like to see my ID, officer?"

"Yes, please."

Grace reaches for her purse on the table near the door. Alarm bells go off in his head. She could be reaching for a gun, Jamal draws his weapon and takes a defensive stance. "Hands where I can see them. Now."

"I was just getting my wallet," Grace explains, raising her hands slowly.

"I'll get it, if you don't mind."

"It's in my purse, on the table behind the door." she gestures toward it.

"Step back," Jamal orders.

With a sigh, Grace steps aside. Jamal retrieves the purse and pulls out her wallet.

"My ID is in the front slot."

Jamal examines the ID carefully, glancing back at Grace and the picture before calling it in. "Dispatch, I need you to run a name. Grace Morgan. Date of birth, 2-22-92."

"You'll see I am who I say I am," Grace says impatiently, shifting her stance.

The dispatcher's voice crackles over the radio. "No priors. Last known address is 349 Manhattan, New York."

"I got tired of freezing, so I migrated south," Grace explains.

"My apologies for the confusion." Jamal hands her ID back.

"This is the second time this has happened to me today."

"The second?" Jamal asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A group of women came over this morning to welcome me to the neighborhood. I thought it was kind of them until one of them called me Tess as she got into her car. I never told them my name, so I thought it was odd." Pausing, Grace glances upward, then back at Jamal. "Now that I think about it, everything about that visit was strange."

"How so?"

"They acted all chummy, like we were lifelong friends, but I've never seen any of them before."

"Did all of them leave together?" Jamal inquires.


"All but one left in a limo. She drove off in a Porsche, saying she had a tournament.

"Thank you for your time. And I apologize for the misunderstanding."

"No problem, officer." Closing the door, Grace mutters under her breath, "That's what they were up to. Well, all of those old bags are going to pay now."

List of Characters
Tess Cadwell, AKA Grace  Morgan serial Killer
Toni Rodriguez, Sergeant of the Atlanta PD
Jamal Monroe, Detective for the Atlanta PD


Tess's Victims
Steven Cadwell, Tess's Husband
Lisa Moore, Stevens lover
Marsha Whitaker, Steven's Sister
Bill Whittaker, Marsha's Husband
Emily Whitmore, Tess 's Enemy.
Jack Whitmore, Emily's Husband
Jill Arnett Ex friend