Beyond Suspicion (3 page)

Three

Having Roger guess her apology was phony bothered her more than any grounding. Shelby paused at the intersection. The driver stopped and waved her on. She nodded her thanks and pushed the stroller a little faster. At the other side she stopped. The park was crowded, which was unusual for this time of day. Josh made a noise to let her know they weren't moving.

“Okay, Mr. Impatient, I'm going, I'm going.” Shelby rolled the stroller into the park and turned up the walk. It was obvious why the kids were here, they wanted to get Spring Break started and this second week of March was beautiful, but there seemed to be even more adults than usual at this time of day. They weren't just sitting around watching the kids either, they were jogging and running. Shelby knew why. She lifted her head to feel the warm sun in a blue sky with fluffy clouds, as a cool, gentle breeze blew refreshingly through the park. One more month and the temperatures would be in the nineties with strong winds blasting out of a fiery furnace and the park would be deserted for the comfort of air-conditioned homes. They passed the basketball court next to the paved trail. A few college kids were shooting hoops while their girlfriends did stretching exercises preparing for a run along the trails.

Shelby kept a steady pace on the winding walk knowing it would lull Josh into a nice little nap. “Oh, good,” she said when she rounded a turn to find her favorite bench empty. Even with a few trees around it, this bench stood in the perfect spot overlooking the whole park. Shelby peeked in the stroller. Josh snoozed. He was such a cute kid. Giving him a little kiss on the head, she tucked Brownie Bear beside him and settled back.

Joggers and power-walkers kept up a steady stream in front of her. For a few minutes she enjoyed watching a group of younger boys and girls playing soccer down in the center of the field. To the left was an older group of boys playing softball. Someone hit a grounder and the ball went barreling into the soccer game. One of the girl soccer players surprised everyone when she scooped it up and threw it to the second baseman. That player sent it on to home plate. Out! The soccer player and second baseman waved at each other. Another soccer player on the sidelines held up a camera and shouted to his teammate. “I got the whole thing!”

Shelby remembered her soccer days and how much fun life had been. She pulled out her cell phone. Calls to both her friends went straight to voice mail. She texted them the same message:
I apologized. Still no. He'll be sorry.
She put the phone in her pocket.

Bang! Pop-pop! Bang!

Shelby jumped. Josh howled at the top of his lungs. Everyone in the park froze or hit the ground. Someone yelled and pointed to the parking lot. Shelby stood and moved with the small crowd. Someone had set off a small string of fireworks. The show was over. Everyone relaxed, a few of them laughed. A jogger in a tank top and wide-legged shorts jogged in place next to Shelby.

“Some people.” She shook her head side to side.

“Just a bunch of idiots,” Shelby agreed. Now she'd never get Josh calmed down. But amazingly he wasn't crying anymore. The jogger continued on up the hill toward the parking lot while she went back to Josh.

Shelby leaned over the stroller. It was empty. Even Brownie Bear and his blanket were gone. She stood up and frantically, heart racing, scanned the park. No one had a baby. She swept her gaze up and down the park again, then over to the parking lot. A white van was pulling out into the street. Her wide eyes watched it drive slowly past the baseball team and the soccer players before disappearing behind a row of live oaks. As Shelby screamed for help it registered in her terrified mind that she might never see Josh again.

Four

Shelby had never been so scared in all her life. Even sitting in an interrogation room at the police station, the fear just wouldn't go away. If she could do the whole thing over again she would never have gotten off that bench. Josh would be safe at home and she'd never complain about babysitting him again. The police had kept at her. Over and over they asked her the same questions. When she told them about the white van they wrote everything down, but acted like it wasn't important. Across the table, Detective Grimes, whose bulbous pug nose, jowls, and serious paunch reminded her of a bulldog, kept fiddling with his notepad. At least he had stopped questioning her. Shelby removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Why wasn't her mom here yet? Was she so mad at her for losing Josh, she didn't want to see her? She lifted her head. “Can I please see my mother? She must be sick with worry.”

“Later.” His eyes never left his notepad.

Shelby tucked her hair behind her ears then slid her glasses back into place. She had no idea what time it was or what they were waiting for. “Where is she?”

“Busy.”

Shelby gripped her fists to control the bitter words she wanted to fling at him. How could he just sit there? She wanted to be out there searching for Josh. All this was taking forever. Shelby's sigh was so loud that Grimes cut his eyes at her.

The room had no windows and the lights made the gray metal table glare. It was cold. The air conditioner wouldn't stop blowing. Both of them had rolled up their shirtsleeves and loosened their ties. Detective Grimes stayed with her but the other one, Rutherford, had left after getting upset. When she first saw him in the hall outside his office, Shelby thought the attractive, muscular man with the short brown hair was kind-looking. Then he began questioning her and seemed to turn into an ugly and menacing troll right before her eyes. Neither of them had been nice to her, but Rutherford had been horrible. Every time she said something, he would twist his mouth in disbelief, or roll his eyes, and lean back acting disgusted.

“Honest, Detective Rutherford, it happened just that way.”

“Right,” he would answer and sigh heavily. The last time he didn't like her answer he had shoved his chair back so fast it fell over and he left it on the floor as he walked out. Detective Grimes righted it without a word.

The interrogation room door opened. A police officer in uniform handed Detective Grimes a sheet of paper. His head jerked as he examined it. “Thanks,” he said. The officer left.

Her heart thudded. They found him. It was bad news. “Have they found him? Is Josh okay?” Her voice squeaked and she cleared her throat.

Detective Grimes put the paper on the table and swung it around so she could see it. He leaned in. Shelby braced for the bad news by gripping her knees under the table.

“This is a copy of your recent text messages.” He tapped the paper with the blunt nail of his index finger. “You had a fight with your stepdad because he was making you miss a party. You tell this Valerie how you hate him and can't stand babysitting your little brother. You said Roger would be sorry he did this to you. You storm out of the house with the baby and an hour later he conveniently gets kidnapped.” Detective Grimes slammed his fist on the table.

Shelby jumped.

“Where did you dump his body?”

Body? Her stomach heaved. Shelby covered her mouth with both hands. Grimes grabbed a small plastic trash bin and shoved it at her. She grasped it around the middle and heaved. It was disgusting, the smell made it worse, and all the time she could hear his voice repeating over and over the same words.

“Confess, Shelby, tell us everything. You'll feel better.”

Shelby struggled clumsily out of her chair. “Bathroom,” she managed to get out as she heaved into the bin again. Grimes threw the door open. Across the hall in another interview room, she saw Detective Rutherford—and her mom, face contorted into a startled expression. Detective Rutherford shot to his feet, but her mother moved faster.

“Mom…”

Her mom helped Shelby to the bathroom where she took the trash bin from her. Shelby darted into a stall and dropped on her knees in front of the toilet. Her mother gently took her glasses. The strong smell of disinfectant made the heaving worse.

Body. They think she murdered Josh. Tears flowed as she threw up again. She could hear her mother pull paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the cold water tap. Shelby raised her head, crying freely, as her mother handed her the dampened towels. She wiped her mouth, flushed the toilet, and got to her feet. Her mother held the stall door.

After rinsing her mouth at the sink, she grabbed a couple of towels. The sudden movement made her sway. She grabbed the counter to steady herself.

“Sit, Shelby, on the cool floor and lean against the wall.”

Shelby did as she was told. Her head kept pounding and her sinuses ached. She used the towels to blow her nose. Her mother took them, tossed them, then went to the sink and wet a clean one. She came back and placed the folded towel across her forehead. Shelby placed one hand over it while her mother crouched in front of her.

“Joshie's gone, Mom, we have to find him.”

“We will,” her mother said. She was crying too. “This is too much for you. We'll go home soon.”

“They think I killed him,” Shelby said, crying harder. “When he asked me where I dumped his body it made me hurl. How could he say that?” Shelby snatched the paper towel from her forehead. “He kept telling me to confess!”

Melissa Butler's hands gripped both sides of Shelby's face. “Shelby, tell me what happened.” Her mother's desperate, questioning eyes raked across Shelby's face. They showed fear and even worse—doubt.

“I didn't hurt him, Mom! I didn't!” Feeling the panic engulf her at the thought her mother might think the same thing made Shelby desperate. “Maybe it was the people in the van. Or the joggers at the park.” Shelby grasped her mother's hands. “Valerie told them I said I hated him, but I didn't mean it. I truly love him, Mom. Honest I do.”

Her mom sank next to her and hugged her. Shelby's whole body seemed to release whatever was holding her up—like air from a balloon. Her mother's voice softened, the doubt gone from her eyes. “I know that, sweetie.” She patted her lap for Shelby to lay her head there as she had when she was six. “Tell me.” She blew her nose in one of the wet towels. “What van? What happened?”

Shelby settled her head in her mother's lap and as her mother stroked her hair she started to speak. But the loud, knuckled rap on the door silenced her.

“We'll be out in a minute!” Her mother said in an annoyed voice.

“Do you need anything?” Detective Grimes asked.

“No! Just give us a minute.” Her mother lowered her voice. “Better hurry, Shelby.”

Shelby talked as her mother stroked her hair, pulling wisps away from her eyes. She told her about the van that she'd seen parked outside the vacant house all week, and how she'd seen them again that day, driving away. “I didn't know they had driven to the park until I saw them leave.”

“Go on.”

Shelby told her about walking through the park and the joggers and how crowded it was. When she got to the part about the firecrackers her mother repeated the word. “Firecrackers?”

“Yes.” Shelby sat up. “While we were all watching them, that's when they took Josh.”

“And you didn't see anything?”

Shelby shook her head. “Mom, they have text messages I wrote to Valerie and Rachel.” She covered her eyes. “They twisted the meaning. When I said he would be sorry, I meant I wouldn't answer him when he spoke to me and things like that.”

Her mother agreed with a slight grin: “You do know which of Roger's buttons to push.”

Shelby returned the grin, thinking how strange it was that in this crisis they found something to smile about.

“Mom, why didn't you come to see me? I kept waiting for you and they kept telling me you were busy. I thought you, uh, you know, blamed me for what happened.”

“They lied to us about each other. First they kept Roger and me busy getting a picture of Josh—which was okay, they need that. Then they kept asking questions that are supposed to help find him. Every time I asked about you, they told me not to worry, that you were doing fine and being a real help to them. I'm sorry, Shelby, I had no idea they would think you did something so horrible. You're not going to talk to them anymore.”

She took Shelby's face in her hands again and kissed her on the forehead. “We're going home.”

After they both washed their faces, Shelby put her glasses back on. She was an ugly mess, but right now she didn't care. Josh was all that mattered.

The detectives were waiting in the hall outside the bathroom. They stood tall when the door opened. Shelby watched her mother march up to them. “How dare you browbeat a fifteen-year-old this way after what she's been through? And accuse her of dumping her little brother's body? What is the matter with you two? I'm taking her home right now.”

“Mrs. Butler, we're not finished questioning her,” Detective Grimes said.

“Oh, yes you are.” She glared at them. “She's answered all of your questions and has nothing else to say.”

Detective Rutherford snorted and put his hands on his hips, “I guess I was wrong and you don't care if we find your baby.”

Shelby gasped, covering her mouth. What a terrible thing to say. He really was a horrible man.

Detective Grimes flung a shocked look at his partner: “What the…?” He bit off his words.

Shelby's mother stiffened. “That was cruel.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped on her blouse as she faced him, making no move to wipe them away.

The hardness in Detective Rutherford's face caved. Before he could say anything Detective Grimes spoke. “Detective Rutherford just wants to find your son. He, that is, we all know how awful this is for you and your family.”

Her mother had her eyes locked on Rutherford's and didn't see the venomous look Detectives Grimes shot at Shelby as he spoke, but Shelby saw it and visibly shrank from it.

“Come on, Mrs. Butler.” Detective Grimes reached for her arm. “I'll take you to your husband. He's waiting for both of you in the lobby.”

Instead, her mother grasped Shelby's arm, shoved past Detective Rutherford, and made Detective Grimes hustle to catch up with her

“Mrs. Butler, I'm sorry.” Detective Rutherford sounded sincere and maybe he was, but Shelby wasn't about to believe it.

Roger's hair was sticking out from running his hands through it. His tie was loosened and he was in his shirtsleeves. In just the hours since Shelby had last seen him, his face had aged. He grabbed them both and hugged them. His shirt against Shelby's face and the pressure of his arm around her comforted her—and that feeling confused her. Her dad was the one who should make her feel that way. Not Roger.

“The press is gathering out front. We can plead with the kidnappers to bring Josh home.” He kissed them both on the top of their heads. “Ready?”

With Roger between them they linked arms and headed for the door. Shelby turned her head around. Detective Rutherford narrowed his dark brows. Detective Grimes mirrored his expression. It was like a bad nightmare. Those two believed she had killed her little brother. She leaned into Roger, using a hand to grasp his shirt, and felt him squeeze her shoulder as they walked to the outer doors. Even if he was being nice to her, giving her strength, for just right now, she would take it and be grateful. The thought of what he would be like at home that night was scary, but right now he was protecting her, and that's all that mattered.