The Tutor

By GiAnna Moratelli

Murder is tough enough without it being someone you know. When Lt. Novelli is called out to Lake Springfield he right away recognizes the victim as a young woman that use to date his son in Mont Fort. But that was a few years ago, and now the young woman, Alysia Tarr has been found strangled. A third grade teacher, who was tutoring a high school football jock. Unfortunately, she was a woman full of lust, and English wasn't the only thing she was tutoring. There's a list of suspects that Joe has to weed out to figure out who would want her dead..

• Language: English
• Publisher: GiAnna Moratelli
• Release date: Nov 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311849076

GiAnna Moratelli

Born in El Paso, Texas, I grew up in Iowa and was lucky enough to have parents that that had money to travel, a truck and 45' fifth wheel, and liked to travel. I've been in almost all of the fifty states, from the east coast to the west and have visited small bits of Canada and Mexico. As a major in history, I've visited the battlefield of the Little Big Horn; on three different occasions, Gettysburg Battlefield, and the Battle of Athens (which most have never visited, it sits on the border of Iowa and Missouri). I've been to as big a places as the Smithsonian Institute and small places as the grave of Chief Wapello located in Agency, Iowa and The Grotto of the Redemption in northern Iowa, which is well worth anyone's time, especially if you like rocks and history. I grew up, as ole horsemen say, on the back of a horse. I started riding by myself when I was three and when I was sixteen I started working at the tracks of Standardbred racing barns during the summers when we weren't travelling. After graduating high school I bought a couple of race horse; a six month old dark bay filly named J.C's "Blitz" DeVane and a little later a yearling sorrel colt named "Breezy" Judge, which I trained and raced myself, only needing to acquire a fair license to do so, compared to those who had pari-mutual license. My horse racing came to an abrupt end a few years later with a barn fire, in which none of the 12 head of horses died, The horse I'm pictured with is Breezy, the best horse I ever owned (and I've owned a lot of horses of different breeds) and passed from this earth when he was 25 years old. I went to college, attended R.O.T.C.; went to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and earned a B.A. in history. My interest lying mostly in American history. Other than the above, many other experiences in life, and living in different places, have given me good resources for my writing: 1. Staying with my grandparents on their farm when I was very young is where I learned to ride and gave me knowledge of farming, which I later helped a farmer near where I grew up. 2. I work for my father; who is a Certified Public Accountant, doing taxes and bookkeeping. I started working for him when I was in middle school, and after health problems in our family, have come back to help him as of 2019. 3. I managed my dad's used car lot in Fairfield, Iowa. 4. I drove a semi with a 52' trailer over the road for 13 years. 5. I worked real estate and did real estate appraisal as a second job to OTR. 6. I've done construction work (helping my dad and brother put up my dad's office building from the ground up, plus many other projects for my dad, many which included pouring concrete every Fourth of July for more years than I care to think about. 7. I worked for a local manufacture making cabinets 8. While in college I cleaned at a hotel to pay my way through the first two years. 9. After college, while driving OTR (after the RE job) I sub-taught for two years. 10. I worked security for four years. 11. I do know how to cook, make garden and can food. That's my life wrapped up in a peanut shell. I decided to write fiction under my pen name and non-fiction under my real name Linda Scott. Just a good idea I thought to keep the two of them seperate.

Book preview

The Tutor

From the Case Files of

Lt. Joe Novelli

By

GiAnna Moratelli

COPYRIGHT 2014

GiAnna Moratelli

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Chapter One

Police Lieutenant Joe Novelli’s stepped on the wood bamboo floor from the cold tile floor of the kitchen in his socked feet then walked quietly down the hallway. He peered into the bedroom before he entered. ‘Constance was still asleep. That was good.’ His wife was use to him working late hours, but he still didn’t like waking her. ‘It was his job with the sacrificing hours, not hers.’

Joe looked at the clock sitting on the nightstand as he slipped around to his side of the bed. It was a quarter till two and he was dead tired, just having worked a twenty-four hour shift, he wanted was to sleep.

Taking off his black sport jacket, Joe hung it in the closet then pulled off his white shirt and tossed it into the clothes hamper sitting between the closet door and dresser. He pulled off his t-shirt and like the shirt, tossed it into the laundry. Walking into the bathroom, Joe turned on the water. The hot water felt relaxing, a good way to end a tense day of hunting for a killer. He let the water splash in his face, running down his dark brown mustache to his goatee. As it ran over his dark brown hair, he felt drained and while the water felt good, sleep would feel better. Turning off the shower, he dried and quietly crept into the bedroom. He turned off the water, dried, than went to bed. His eyes closed as his head hit the pillow and he knew nothing more about what was going on around him.

Constance woke and looked at her husband. She didn’t know what time Joe had got home, but when she waken at midnight to answer the call of nature, he still hadn’t been home. She quietly dressed in a long pink dress and walked to the kitchen. She glanced at the clock as she opened the refrigerator. It was almost seven o’clock. ‘Hopefully Joe had solved one of the many crimes his team was working on. It was about the only time he worked after midnight. She would let him sleep as long as he wanted.’

Taking a carton of eggs and hock of ham from the refrigerator, Constance set them on the counter. She glanced at the doorway to the living room and hallway that led to the bedrooms. She’d like to lay in bed with him, make passionate love to her husband when he woke. But she knew Joe would think he needed to get going. He had expressed his frustration, just the other day about how many cases his department had to get solved. And it was a weekday, not the weekend. But every day was a weekday as far as the department was concerned.

Joe stirred. The aroma of eggs and ham filled the house and he was hungry, not having eaten since noon the day before. He looked at the clock as he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘He didn’t feel like getting up, but he had a lot of paper work to follow up the night before.’

Constance walked to the doorway of the bedroom. Seeing Joe was awake, she walked over, crawled across the bed behind him and wrapped her arms around him. I have breakfast ready, whenever you are. She kissed him on the neck then rubbed his shoulders.

It smells good.

You’re really tense.

Yeah. He took her hand and pulled her beside him. And I’m still tired.

You were up kind of late.

Kind of, he agreed. He brushed his lips across hers. I missed seeing you yesterday, or last night.

I should have stayed up.

Joe shook his head. No you shouldn’t. I needed the sleep. He turned and laid her down on the bed.

Breakfast is going to get cold.

I don’t care. Joe kissed her.

Joe laid back on the bed. You wear me out, you know that?

Constance rose up on her elbow and rubbed the hair on his chest. You were already tired. Remember?

Yeah.

The phone rang.

Joe groaned. ‘Damn. Didn’t that figure.’ Reaching over to the nightstand he picked up the receiver.. Novelli. I’m on my way. He reached over to hang up the receiver, almost missing the phone.

P.D.? Constance asked.

They have shitty timing don’t they?

Yeah.

Joe kissed his wife. I have to hit the shower.

I’ll heat up your breakfast.

Unfortunately the shower didn’t do a lot to revive him. Dressed, Joe put on his shoulder holster, holstered the automatic, then put on a dark blue sport jacket. He walked to the door and pulled on his boots as Constance watched him. Hate to run off pretty lady but -.

I know. Constance kissed him. I fixed a ham and egg sandwich. It won’t be much but -.

It’ll be fine.

I filled your thermos with coffee, and it’s supposed to rain so I dug out your umbrella.

Thank you honey, Joe said and took the thermos, bag consisting of his breakfast, and umbrella.

Constance kissed him. I love you. Be careful.

Always baby. Joe winked at her. I’m supposed to carry all this?

A man who can solve a murder can carry three things.

Point well made. I’ll call you later.

* * * *

Joe shook the moisture from the heavy morning mist from the umbrella as he walked into the precinct. Henderson, he greeted a tall, blonde haired man behind the front desk.

Adam Henderson looked at the umbrella and frowned. Lieutenant! I thought you’d be out at Lake Springfield by now.

I’m on my way.

I can tell, Adam said. He pushed the button under the desk. Doors open.

Thanks. Joe opened the glass door. He glanced around the room. His dark brown eyes settled on the clock on the smoke stained white wall.

What are ya doing here, Novelli? Thought you had a vic waiting on you? a slender woman with short reddish brown hair said from the desk she was sitting at, a stack of paper work in front of her.

Boss wants to see him, a heavy set, bald headed man sitting at a desk stated.

Joe looked at the female detective. What are you on, Shay?

A refresher course. I have court tomorrow. Shay smiled and motioned to the umbrella in Joe’s hand. I see your wife’s looking out for you.

Joe looked at the umbrella. She always does, doesn’t she?

Wish Bruce looked out for me like that.

I’m sure he does in his own way, Joe replied, and looked at the other detective who appeared to be busy, thumbing through a file he was holding like a book only to be read by him. What about you, Dean?

Yeah. Brushing up on stuff, Dean said. He barely looked up from the file. Guess Swift doesn’t think a homicide’s more important than you stopping here on your way?

He’s the boss, Joe said. Stopping at his desk, he picked up a pen and pad of paper and put them in the pocket of his jacket.

Joe! Glad you’re here, a voice cracked from the office at the end of the aisle. I know you have to get going. So I’ll make this quick.

Joe’s long strides carried his five-eleven to the end of the aisle in a few seconds. He pushed open the dark wood door with the gold metal name plate on it and looked at the Chief of Police, a dark haired, tall, slender man. Must be pretty damn important for you to ask me to come in before going out to a murder scene?

It’s not more important, but I want you to take Williams with you, John said as he looked at the umbrella. Is it raining?

Joe frowned. It’s starting. That’s why I need to get out there right away. Why do I need to take Williams with me?

Because we’re not paying him to sit around and read Playboy. That’s why.

Playboy?

Get going, you have a body out there and no one out there to handle it but a handful of sheriff’s deputies that don’t know what the hell they’re doing, John said. Here, you might need this. He held out a paper to Joe.

Taking the paper, Joe barely glanced at it.

Maybe having Williams working with give you will give you a breather. You’ve been working a lot of later hours lately, but we all have.

Joe nodded. It kind of goes with the territory, but… I’d rather not work with Willaims.

John rolled his eyes upward at Joe. Why not?

Because he’s more trouble than he is help.

John frowned and half nodded. Maybe he is, but drag his ass out there anyway. At least get him out of here.

I have enough on my plate. I could give him this case.

You’re not head of this department yet, my friend. A smile crossed John’s thin lips. I have a better man to put on it. I’ll give Koch the Orman Case. He’s been working on it anyway hasn’t he?

Yeah, he has -.

That should help you out.

It will, but -.

Besides, you’re buddy from the sheriff’s department’s out there and Williams doesn’t get along with him.

Williams doesn’t get along with anyone who works on the sheriff’s department.

John nodded. He isn’t the only one you know.

Joe opened the door. ‘For no good reason. They all were doing the same job.’

Joe.

Joe stopped and looked at John.

Keep my informed.

I always do.

Make it timely.

Don’t I always? Joe smiled and walked down the aisle, checking his watch. Williams, you ready?

Dean Williams looked up and closed the file so Joe couldn’t see the contents. Ready? I didn’t know I was going with ya.

Joe looked at the file lying on the desk. He could see the back of a Hustler magazine. Boss’s request this time, not mine. So let’s get going, he looked at his watch, they’re waiting on us.

Dean frowned as he put the file into the bottom drawer of his desk then tossed the phone book on top of it. Guess I can put this case on the back burner for a few minutes.

I’m sure you can.

Joe frowned as Williams stood. To his way of thinking Williams five-foot-five, two-hundred plus pounds, with his shirt tail hanging out of a pair of faded jeans gave the department a bad impression. You better take your car in case you get a call, Joe suggested and raised the umbrella as they walked out the door.

"You goin’ home for lunch today?" Dean said looking up at the rain as they walked across the parking lot.

Plannin’ on it. Joe took his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He looked away from Williams, so he couldn’t hear his conversation, then he pushed a button on his phone. Hi, honey. I don’t know if I’m going to make it home for lunch, but I just called to tell you I appreciate the breakfast and this morning… I love you too. I’ll talk to you later. He closed the phone and slid it into his jacket pocket.

Dean smiled. Jobs hard on the ole marriage vows ain’t it, Novelli?

Joe looked at Dean over the top of his white 1958 Chrysler Imperial convertible. Not as hard on them as if I were cheating on her, he said and put down the umbrella as he opened the car door.

You need to mind your own damn business, Novelli.

Joe got in his car and closed the door.

Hey, Novelli! Where are we goin’?

Chapter Two

Joe turned on the windshield wipers as he pulled out of the police station. He hated working cases in the rain. Bad weather never helped a crime scene and neither did being late.

The paved road around Lake Springfield was several miles long. As it wound along the southern end of the lake, which was more narrow; Joe could see red and blue lights of the sheriff’s deputy’s cars flashed against the grey misty sky.

Joe pulled up behind the deputy’s car he recognized as his friend Tom Zane’s. He watched in the rearview mirror, frowning as the front of Dean’s car inched closer to his own. Getting out, Joe put up the umbrella and walked to the back of his car. He looked at the few inches between the chrome bumper of his car and the plastic front of Dean’s. How damn close do ya have to get? It’s not going to get lonely out here.

Dean chuckled. I like to make you nervous, Novelli.

You touch it and it’s going to make me more than nervous, Joe said as he started walking down the road in the direction of a sheriff’s deputy, who was standing on the side of the road.

What’s the matter? Can’t take a joke? Dean puffed as he hurried to keep up with Joe’s long stride. You gonna get in a fight over a car bumper?

‘Take a joke? It wasn’t a joke and he wasn’t happy about having to work with him, what would Williams think about that answer?’

So you play golf out here? Dean asked as he looked around.

I’ve played out here a few times.

You play every weekend don’t ya?

I work most every weekend. Joe looked at the heavy Williams trying to keep up with him. You ought ‘a try it.

I got better things to do with my time than putting around a little ball.

‘That wasn’t what he was talking about.’

So where do you play, if you don’t play here?

I usually go out to Lincoln Greens.

What’s it got that’s better than out here?

Joe frowned. I didn’t know you were interested in playing golf?

I’m not. But it’s flatter than is one huh?

It’s a larger course.

It’s also named after a republican.

Joe glanced at