Riverside's Perfect Murder

Right-Handed

In the morning, Ollie was up fixing breakfast when Rita came out of the bedroom. "It's still dark, what time is it?"

"Five. How are you feeling?" Ollie asked.

"Better. Ollie..."

"It's all right."

"No. It isn't. I need to say this." Ollie set the bowl down and stood at the counter to listen. "I should not have come here last night. I can't see you. You are a suspect, and now you hold a key piece of evidence against me. I can't have that. I am going to tell everyone who will listen just what I have done." Rita walked over to retrieve her jacket.

"Could you wait a moment please, Rita," Ollie asked, almost begging.

"Why?" Rita asked.

"I would enjoy your company for breakfast. During which, I will explain what I can for you."

"What do you mean, 'What you can?'" Rita asked.

Smiling, he said, "How does this sound. I promise not to lie to you if you promise not to ask me something I cannot tell you."

Rita thought a moment. On the one hand, she wanted to know what he knew, and on the other, she didn't want to find out he knew anything. Rita felt feelings for him, and he did help her last night. She found herself in a difficult spot.

"Please. It is only breakfast with a friend, and then you can go and never see me again if that is what you desire."

"All right, breakfast, and then I am leaving," Rita said.

"Very well. Is an Omelet all right?" Ollie asked with a smile.

"Fine. I am going to wash up."

Breakfast was ready and on the table, when Rita came out of the bathroom. They were halfway through eating before Rita said, "Well?"

Ollie set his utensils on the table and wiped the corners of his mouth slowly with his napkin before starting. "I am not quite sure how to begin. I had no intention of sticking my nose in your investigation, until I saw you on television. I knew then you were someone I wanted to meet, and get to know a little better. Despite what you think, I am not your man. I am capable of doing something like that, which I believe you already know. Your shooter is left-handed, and I am not."

"How do you know the shooter is left-handed?"

"Remember, I will not lie to you if you do not ask me questions I cannot answer," Ollie said respectfully.

"OK, Continue," Rita said.

He smiled, "Although I can shoot with my left hand. Not well enough to knock out three cameras and shoot a man in the leg from across the room. I could hit a man's chest. Now, with a gun in my right hand," he shrugged, "I could do those things and more."

"But you caught your keys in your left hand?"

Ollie chuckled. "Yes, I did. I am sorry. I was playing with you and Joe then. Did you ever play baseball?"

"Yes, why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"What hand did you catch the ball with?" he asked.

"Shit. My left."

"Now, to be fair, I could have caught the keys with my right hand just as easily."

"But that wouldn't have been fun, would it?"

Ollie smiled. "No. That would not have been any fun at all." Ollie changed how he looked and said, "I had no intention of having any feelings for you, but I do. I felt them before, but I especially felt them last night as I was holding you waiting for you to fall asleep." Getting a sheepish look on his face, he said, "I wondered how other things would feel as well, but I knew that was not the time."

Rita stared at him and thought about rebuffing him, but she had the same thoughts. He was handsome and finely built. Shaking her head, she said, "Enough of that, you know him, don't you."

The grave look came back to Ollie's face, and he said in a harsh tone, "I cannot answer that, and you know it, so please do me the honor of not asking."

"I could have you arrested for obstruction," Rita said.

The smile came back to his face, he said, "Why yes you could, but you will not have me arrested, I think."

"Why?"

"You need me."

Shit, he's right. "Fine, I won't arrest you today."

"That is ever so very kind of you. Thank you." Ollie grinned.

"Oh, shut up."

"Yes, Miss. Rita," he mocked.

Rita knew he would help her solve this case, but he would do it on his schedule, and nothing would move him faster.

"Your omelet's cold now."

"Why yes, it is. Would you like anything else?" Ollie asked, smiling.

"No, I'm going to work," Rita said, disgusted with herself.

"Please let me know if you need help to catch the bad guys."

"Whatever," Rita said as she walked out and slammed his door.

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All the way to work, she thought about Ollie. Rita hated the fact he knew so much about her, and she knew very little about him. If she saw him again, she would have to fix that. What do I mean not see him again? Rita knew she would see him again, probably tonight, and she hated herself for being this weak.

If it wasn't Ollie at the bank, then who was it? Is Ollie truly right-handed? Rita felt he wouldn't lie to her, only withhold information for whatever reason. Damn It; I shouldn't be involved with him at all.

Last night had been terrible. Her nightmares were getting worse instead of better.

Maybe she should start an investigation into Tony's death. Perhaps she should confess like she had tried to do before many times. What would it help to confess? Who would it help?

She couldn't even tell her shrink what happened because then it would be out for people to hear. Confidential my ass, she knew how things worked. As soon as the therapist got something juicy, it would be passed up the chain of command until Rita's future was determined by some desk somewhere. They would want her to go away quietly, but away they would want her to go for sure.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Joe was waiting in her office when Rita walked in. "Hi Joe." Rita sat behind her desk with a cup of coffee.

"Morning," Joe said, watching her.

"Did you find out anything?" Rita asked.

"No, but I want to take another run at the Professor over at Wilcox. Somebody knows something."

"You would think so. I mean, we don't know anything."

Joe chuckled. When Rita didn't, he cocked his head and asked, "Are you all right?"

Rita looked up, hesitated and then said, "Stop profiling me. I'm fine." Rita knew Joe didn't believe her, but he wouldn't ask again.

"Well, I guess I'll go earn my paycheck." Joe groaned a little as he got up to leave.

"Joe...," Rita hesitated, "thanks."

Joe looked at Rita, smiled, and said, "Yes'm Miss. Rita."

The grin started slowly; she didn't want it to come at all. But despite herself, Rita was smiling when Joe left. Asshole, she thought, shaking her head.