Beyond Suspicion (5 page)

Seven

Joey Wiggins had been a friend for years. At two a.m. he called on his cell to say he was coming down the alley to the back door with the tranquilizers and a few other things.

“Dad drove me over and we couldn't get down the street,” he said when Roger let him inside. “So he parked at the end of the alley and I ran up here. If they figure out they can get to the back, it won't be long before they're surrounding the whole house.”

“Thanks for coming out so late, Joey, and please let your dad know how much we appreciate it.” Roger handed the sack to Shelby.

She noticed that Joey kept staring at Roger. It was like he had deliberately gone out of his way not to see her standing there as she took the sack.

“Have you heard anything?” Joey asked, his attention not wavering from Roger.

“Not yet,” Roger told him. “Why don't you call your dad and let him know you're heading back?”

As Joey took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed, he glanced at her. For a split second Shelby thought she must have imagined Joey's slight and gave him a half-smile. But Joey's face was like stone, looking right through her and then away as he spoke to his father.

Shelby's heart thudded with surprise and embarrassment. It just seemed so impossible. It had to be some kind of mistake on her part. Joey had been thinking of his phone call, not deliberately ignoring her.

“Okay, Mr. Butler, I'll see you later. Dad said to call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

When he opened the door to leave, Shelby felt an urge to say something to prove to herself that Joey's feelings hadn't changed toward her, that this coldness was only her imagination.

“Thanks, Joey,” she said, as friendly and sincerely as she could. “Be careful. It's dark in the alley.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her as he held the screen door open. This time his eyes didn't look through her. They bore daggers of hate. “Right.”

Roger had been reading the medicine bottle and didn't see the look Joey shot at her. “Thanks, Joey, tell your dad how grateful I am.” Roger locked the door behind him. “I'm going to take a glass of water to your mom and get her to take one of these.”

“I can do it,” Shelby offered, trying not to show how Joey's attitude had shaken her.

“That's okay, why don't you try to get some sleep.” He filled a glass from the tap.

“Sure, but you need sleep, too.”

Roger, the medicine bottle in one hand and the glass of water in the other, had passed by her. “I don't think I want to sleep right now, in case…well, you know.”

Shelby did know. When they found Josh, Roger wanted to be up and ready to go to him. She checked the doors and windows, turned out all but one light in the living room, and walked down the hall. As she went into her bedroom she heard her mother's voice.

They were probably discussing the hatchet job Lola Banes had done on her. It wasn't the fair reporting Shelby expected. Everyone on the show had presented her as a resentful, spoiled teenager out to get even.

“If there was no van, and no witnesses have come forward to back up her story, then what happened to Josh? We can only speculate.” Lola Banes had faced directly into the camera. “Shelby Palmer needs to tell the truth.” That's when her mother had rushed to her bedroom and slammed the door. She hadn't come out since.

Shelby pulled her pajamas out of the drawer and tossed them on the bed. Then she checked her cell. There was a text from Rachel to get on JustChillin'. She clicked the App. Her breath caught as she read the comments.

Murderer!
You're a monster!

There were hundreds of them. With trembling fingers, she went to Valerie's JustChillin' site. A discussion about her had been going on for hours. Most of it was bad. A few times Valerie had defended her, but when she had quit responding, the commentary trashing her had taken on a life of its own.

Shelby felt hot, then cold, then hot again as adrenaline pulsed and surged. She cringed with fear and horror at the hate directed at her. It seemed with each new comment the intensity ratcheted up, inevitably including death threats.

Horrified, angry, afraid, the impulse to respond, to defend herself, was overwhelming. Shelby put down her cell and hurried to the computer to pull up her site. Fingers poised above the keyboard, she flexed, made fists, then flexed them again. But she could not act. Not yet. Mesmerized by the need to read everything, she put herself through each painful message. Every comment from someone she thought liked her, brutally wounded her feelings. One of them was from Jace.

I always knew she was weird. Better watch out for that sicko.

Shelby couldn't believe it. The one boy she daydreamed about, whose name she wrote when she was supposed to be doing homework, thought she was weird the whole time. Now, he called her a sicko.

Reading on, her heart jumped as Rachel's name sprang out at her. But her friend had stood up for her, leaving a comment asking people to let the police do their job.
I don't believe that Shelby would do something like that.
Then they turned on Rachel too, accusing her of helping Shelby kill Josh.

Though she knew it would only hurt her, Shelby couldn't seem to stop. She had to find out everything they were saying about her. She clicked on several video clips her classmates had posted to prove their points. They had copied segments from the national news organizations. She had been judged and convicted by the words of Detective Rutherford: “Her story just doesn't add up.”

There were clips from the Lola Banes call-in show and aerial views of the park showing the police searching the wooded area. “We are holding out hope,” one police officer told a reporter. In another snippet a different officer shook his head slowly. “It will be dark soon and we're afraid that little Joshua is somewhere in these woods. The search will resume in the morning.”

Lola Banes' guest psychiatrist explained why a jealous stepdaughter would commit infanticide. Shelby felt a kind of numbness take hold. It was too much. The whole world had judged her a killer without bothering to find out her side of the story. Her only hope was to try to make them understand. She had to do something, even it if brought more hate down on her head. This was something she could do to help Josh. She went to her own JustChillin' page to post her story.

Josh and I went to the park like we always do. Roger and my mother did tell me I couldn't go to the party and I was angry, but not at Josh. On my street there was a white van with a woman and a man. It's been there a few times. I thought they wanted to buy a house. They were creepy but that's all. When we left the house they drove off ahead of us. At the park someone set off firecrackers. I jumped up to see better. Everyone did. When I went back to the bench, Josh was gone. I saw the white van leaving the parking lot and drive away. I don't know for sure, but I think they kidnapped Josh.

Shelby described them as best she could remember as well as the van. Then she ended with a plea.

Please, please, believe me! If anybody at the park remembers the white van, please call the police. I'm not lying! I love him! PLEASE, PLEASE, HELP US FIND HIM!

Shelby felt hopeful after she posted the comment. Surely at least some of them would believe her and if enough people searched for the van, someone might spot it and find Josh. She turned off the screen, but left the computer running. Maybe a long soak in the tub would help. Before she went to bed she would check to see if anyone answered.

In the hall, her mother's door opened. Shelby waited. Her mom saw her and leaned against the doorjamb for support. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. It took an effort for her to speak. “Roger's parents and Grammy and Pop will be flying in tomorrow.”

Shelby fought the feeling of annoyance that threatened to overwhelm her; now she'd have to give up her bedroom and camp out on the couch. “Okay, I'll change my sheets and clean my room in the morning.” Then she thought about her dad. She had totally forgotten to check her email or voicemail. “Did you hear from Dad?”

“I sent him an email, but you know he never turns on his computer. I also left a message on his machine, voice mail, and sent a text message. He'll call as soon as he hears anything.” Her mother gave her a hug and a kiss. “Try to get some rest. Good night, honey.”

Shelby nodded as her mom closed the bedroom door, making it seem cold in the shadowy hall. The tub filled slowly. She lay back and let the water rise around her. When it was deep enough she used her foot to push the nozzle down. It was suddenly silent; exactly what she needed. Closing her eyes she breathed deeply trying to erase the horrible feelings of being a target. After soaking until the bubbles almost completely disappeared, she sat up and washed her hair, rinsing it under the spout. Once they read her explanation, maybe some of her true friends would help get the rest of them on her side. She got out of the tub, towel dried her hair, and slipped into her new pajamas. The pair she was going to wear to the party. Was that tonight? It seemed like days ago. As she left the bathroom she listened for sounds from her mom's room, but heard nothing. Maybe they were finally getting some sleep. She went back to her room and sat in front of the computer. With a deep breath she turned on the screen and refreshed her JustChillin' site.

Liar! Killer!

And so it went, on and on. All against her. Shelby couldn't believe it. One of the football players threatened her life. With shaky fingers and tears streaming down her cheeks, she exited JustChillin'. She would never pull it up again until Josh was found. Then she'd have a few things to say.

She checked her email and found her inbox filled with hate mail. She didn't read it. There was nothing from her dad. She wrote and told him how Roger and her mother were handling things, and what was going on. She told him to watch the news to see just how awful things were. Her last words were:
Please come home, Daddy, I need you here.

After sending it, she went through each piece of hate mail and blocked them all. Then she blocked everyone in her address book except family and her two best friends. When that was done she crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep.

Eight

Noises from the kitchen roused Shelby from a long night of tossing and turning, crying into her pillow, and staring at the ceiling. Worrying if the kidnappers were being good to Josh made it impossible to get a decent night's sleep. She sat on the side of the bed for a long moment wishing she could just stay in bed all day, but she had to clean her room. If Shelby was worried and couldn't sleep, her mother must be going out of her mind. And Roger? Josh was his only child. He was trying so hard to stay strong for all of them, but he must be suffering just as much as Mom. Hopefully, Roger would make sure Mom took another one of the pills Dr. Wiggins sent—and then take one himself.

As she pulled a tee over her head, she caught sight of the computer's blank screen. The sick feeling came back. She toyed with the idea of checking to see what else had been said about her as she sat on the desk chair to tie her cross trainers. Shelby wanted desperately to tell her mother about the horrible stuff they were saying last night, but that would only add to her stress. The blank computer screen seemed to be urging her to boot up. No. Shelby jumped to her feet. It would be better if she just stayed off the computer.

Grabbing the bedspread, she pulled it off the bed and tossed it on the floor. She stripped the sheets and carried them to the utility room next to the kitchen. Her mother, standing at the counter, both hands around a coffee cup, greeted her with a faint smile.

“Any news?” Shelby walked to the washer. She dumped the pile on the floor and headed for the coffeepot.

“No.” Her mother slid the sugar bowl to her. “Those news people are contemptible. Miss Tuttle was right, the networks are out there. It's like someone dumped chum in the ocean for sharks. Roger went out to get the paper and they shouted at him. One man came running up the lawn.”

“Did Roger talk to them?”

“No, but he did call an attorney for you. His name is Jeffrey Quick.”

Shelby's lips froze on the rim of the coffee cup. “A lawyer? What for?”

“Let's sit down a minute.” Her mother went to the table and dragged out a chair.

Shelby sat across from her. Fear gnawed at her insides. “Mom, I didn't do anything. Does he think I did?”

Her mother placed a hand over hers. “Of course not. He's trying to protect you. Everyone wants to blame you. We're afraid that they'll manage to find only the evidence that will prove their theory is right. It's been done before.”

Shelby blinked back new tears. “But there isn't any evidence. Josh is out there with those horrible people. They aren't even trying to find the van, are they?”

“They only want to find his body.” Melissa Butler buried her face in her hands. “I'm scared, Shelby, I'm so scared. While they blame you, those people could be selling him to a pervert.”

Panic gripped her. Shelby hadn't thought of anything that awful. “No! They wouldn't have taken him for that!” Frantically she plowed through visions of the couple. Did the woman seem that evil? “Mom, I think that woman in the van wanted a baby for herself.”

“I hope so.” Her mother lifted her head. “If she wanted a baby enough to kidnap him then I have to pray she'll take good care of him. If the police just tried, they could find him before they disappeared forever. The only trouble is…”

“What?”

“They might not be the ones who took him.”

For just a brief second Shelby wondered if her mother was accusing her. She forced that thought away.

“Mom…” Shelby shook her head slowly. “It has to be them. I wish I had been more suspicious and said something.”

“I know, but it isn't your fault.” Her mother leaned back in her chair and put both hands around her cup.

Shelby wished she could search for Josh, but she had no idea where to start. She was the only one who had seen them. Valerie had her license. Maybe she would drive her around. She was about to suggest it when her mother sighed deeply.

“You seem a little better this morning,” Shelby said. “I was getting worried. Did the medicine help?”

“What? Oh, yes, but I only took a half a pill. I was able to get a few hours of sleep with no dreams. This morning I decided I couldn't fall apart. When Josh comes back he'll need me.”

“I need you, now.” Shelby decided to tell her about the computer. “There's something…”

“Don't do that.” Her mother interrupted in utter disbelief. “Don't try guilt, not now, Shelby, please don't do that.”

“But I wasn't trying—”

“Excuse me.” She abruptly left Shelby alone in the kitchen.

“But I wasn't doing that,” she whispered.

Shelby choked down a bowl of oatmeal and dry toast, rinsed her things and put them in the drainer to dry. Her mother was doing the best she could right now. Shelby understood that, but her mom had no idea what was being said and how it made her feel. Except—right now, though, none of that mattered. She loaded the clothes in the washer, measured the soap and softener, and then turned the dial. Standing there, listening to the washer fill, she came to a decision. From now on she would just have to handle things alone.

Roger's attention was on the TV screen as she walked into the living room. His expression had the same vacant stare as her mother. She kept silent on the way to her room, then she curled up on the unmade mattress. She wanted to sleep and escape from thinking, but she had cleaning to do. Instead of getting busy, she just lay there. About twenty minutes later the doorbell rang.

Did something happen? Too anxious and worried to go see, she sat up, straining to hear the male voices. Soon Roger tapped on her door.

“Shelby, Mr. Quick is here.”

“I'm coming.” She slid off the bed, beginning to tremble. A lawyer was here to defend her for something she didn't do.

Shelby was biting her bottom lip as her mother came out of her bedroom at the same time. She put an around Shelby's waist and hugged. “It's going to be fine. I'm sorry about earlier.”

“That's okay, Mom, I didn't mean it the way it sounded.” Shelby hugged her back.

“I know, honey.”

They walked arm in arm to the living room.

“Mr. Quick, this is Shelby and my wife, Melissa,” Roger said.

“So nice to meet you.” He shook both of their hands.

When he took Shelby's hand, he regarded her quizzically and she knew he was sizing her up. Surely he could feel the nervousness in her hand. Would he think that made her guilty? She wasn't sure. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Quick.”

He sat in the armchair facing Shelby as she sat on the recliner. She folded her hands in her lap. Her mother and Roger sat in their usual spots on the sofa.

“So, tell me what's been happening,” Mr. Quick said, turning toward Roger and her mother.

Whew. He wouldn't start with her. It would give her a minute to calm down.

They explained about the media, what happened at the police station, and everything they could remember. Shelby sat silently, warming to her attorney. His reactions to what they said were reassuring. She felt calmer. He would take care of things, she just knew it.

“I think you're right, they've jumped to an instant conclusion and don't care if it's right or wrong.” He jotted some notes in a notebook. He was her grandfather's age, and though he was all-business, he seemed friendly and knew how to put them all at ease. “I will do all I can to stop this tabloid mentality.”

“Good,” Roger said. “We need to concentrate on finding Josh and not answering questions about Shelby.”

Mr. Quick nodded. “Okay, it's important now that Shelby and I talk privately. Will you two excuse us?”

“We can use the kitchen, Mr. Quick.” Shelby got up. “So they can watch for news on TV.”

“Good idea,” Roger said. “Thanks, Shelby.”

They settled at the table, and Mr. Quick opened his notebook to a fresh page. As he spoke she studied his white hair growing just above his ears. It wrapped around the bottom half of his head setting off a shiny, pink bald spot. She was glad he didn't try the long hair comb-over to hide it the way some of the men at church did. They had no idea how comical it was to everyone else.

“Did I say something funny, Shelby?” His watery blue eyes squinted at her.

“No, sorry.” She'd better start paying attention. “I was just thinking how much better I feel knowing you're here.”

His eyes relaxed. “Well, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. It's not that I don't believe you, but I have to be sure. I want you to take a lie detector test. A private one, just for me. If you pass, I'll release the results to the news media. If you fail, no one will know you even took it, and I can plan your defense accordingly.”

Her heart sank. He didn't believe her either. Her eyes began to fill. She used a knuckle to wipe the corners.

“Don't you want to take a lie detector test?” His tone couldn't hide the suspicion he felt.

“It's not that. I'll take one, no problem. It's just that Josh is out there with strangers and no one believes me. He could be anywhere right now, even another state.”

“Some people do believe you and are willing to help. I'm going to set up a tip line for the van and hope we get some good leads. I do know some of your friends and neighbors are organizing in the neighborhood for volunteers to pass out flyers, search the park for clues, and man the phones. In the meantime don't talk to anyone about anything. I don't care how much you trust them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but…” Shelby stopped and bit her lip again. Should she tell him?

“What?”

“They were saying mean stuff on my JustChillin' site.” She studied her fingernails.

Mr. Quick peered at her. “What did you do?”

She told him.

He slid the pen and notebook over to her. “Give me your login name and password. You will not write anything on it again, and you won't comment on anything on the net, text message, voice mail, nothing. That's an order or I'll drop you as a client. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'm going to get a subpoena for their names and IP addresses. If there is anything libelous or slanderous, I'll send their parents registered letters announcing a possible suit for a lot of money. The ones that threatened to kill you have broken the law. When I get finished, that nonsense will stop. Consider your site mine now. If I feel I should delete your site for your protection, I will, and you will not under any circumstances create another one until this is all over. Do I make myself clear?”

Shelby slid the notebook back to him. What would the kids do to get even? “You might make things worse, you know.”

He ignored her. “I'll make some arrangements with your parents.” He pushed back his chair, making it squeak on the laminated oak floor. “Shelby, this is more serious than I can tell you. Circumstantial evidence is powerful—you could wind up in prison if you don't do exactly what I tell you.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“But they think you did and that's all that matters. I'll let you know when the polygraph appointment will be.”

Shelby slumped in her chair after he left the room. Funny how the only thing that bothered her about what he said was hearing him call Roger her parent. It shouldn't bother her as much as it would have two days ago, but it still did. Roger was being nice to her. He told everyone she was telling the truth. That was something. Her own dad couldn't even keep in touch. Dad. Did he get all the messages and decide he was staying out of it? She immediately got mad at herself for thinking he would do that.

No, no way would he just ignore what was happening here. She had to get out of the house. It would be so nice to be free for just a little while. Maybe she could dodge the media and see how the search was going at the park. Joey had said the reporters hadn't discovered the alley yet.

She peeked out the kitchen window. She had to lean on the sink to peer up and down the alley. Not a single person was out there. She listened to the conversational voices drifting in from the other room. It sounded like it would take a while. No one had expressly told her to stay inside.

Stepping carefully so they wouldn't hear, she opened the door and slipped outside into the shelter of the carport. Immediately she crouched low. No one could see her behind the cars, but she could hear them talking and laughing out front. Very carefully, she closed the door and duck-walked to the wood gate, lifted the latch, and scrambled into the backyard. She pushed the gate closed and heard the latch click. No one jumped out of the bushes or yelled while she leaned against it. The chain-link fence didn't block her view of the alley and the other yards. Shelby couldn't see anyone at all.

Taking a steadying breath, she moved fast across the grass, through the back gate, and into the alley. Then she took off running and didn't stop until she was a couple of houses from the end. From here she could see a wooden barricade had been set up along with some orange cones. So that's why they hadn't clogged the alley with traffic. Joey didn't mention the cones so they must have been set up this morning.

She stood in the shade to catch her breath. A fly buzzed her ear and she waved it away, then the unpleasant odor from the nearby dumpster wafted under her nose. Shelby walked fast to the street.

The few cars that passed by didn't change speed as she waited to run across. No one recognized her. Or maybe since no one expected to see her out and about, they weren't giving a second thought to some teenaged girl. She darted across the street and down another alley before reaching the park. Again, no one noticed her. She crossed the street and power-walked up the path she always took with Josh. Her plan was to blend in, then get lost in the crowd of sightseers watching the police activity, but when she reached the bench she came to a surprised halt.