Over Her Dead Body (20 page)

Chapter 32

Detective James stared vacantly across the table. He was grooming his mustache with his left hand. Some people twirled pens with their fingers, others drummed their fingers across the table, Detective James groomed his mustache. It put him in think mode. But exhaustion had set in and he was beginning to space out more than he was thinking. Usually, when it came to a suspect he knew to be guilty or most likely guilty, it
always became
a waiting game. He would usually keep them in the room until the suspect was so exhausted, irritable, and uncomfortable, they would confess just to get out of the damn room and that painful wooden chair. Something was bothering him about this case though and he just couldn’t put his finger on it. It would flow through his
sub
conscious, nuzzle right up to the edge of his brain threatening to pop across like a light bulb revealing some new piece of the puzzle that his consci
ous
had not picked up on just yet. But because he was so damn tired, whatever it was would get close, and then it would drift away before it had a chance to make itself known. The detective sat there shaking his head.

April had crossed her arms and put her face down sideways apparently lost in her own world. She could feel the weight of the detective’s stare bearing down upon her. She ignored it anyway. She began to notice that the chair she was sitting on must be made out of some hardwood like walnut or cherry. Her butt went from falling asleep, to stinging, to the throbbing mode which it was in now. She lifted her head and eyeballed the detective. “Well…?” She said.

“Well what?” The detective stopped grooming his mustache and put his arm down.

“Are you going to charge me?”

“Charge you with what?” The detective asked.

“Murder, obstruction of justice, or something?”

“Which one do you think I should charge you with?” The detective asked.

“I could really care less at this point
D
etective. Do what you need to do and get me out of this damn room. If you’re not charging me, then I’m going home.”

“Actually Mrs. Bander, we can hold you up to twenty four hours before we charge you. So I’m afraid you’re stuck here unless you have something else you would like to tell us that would clear this whole thing up.” The detective said and drew the last sip remaining of his coffee. April put her head back down on her arms. “Why don’t you te
ll me about the kid Mrs. Bander?
” The detective asked. “I know you gave birth. I know you gave birth to twins. And I know where you left them. The story was in the paper. Your DNA and Michael’s DNA match the girl’s. So let’s quit with this ridiculous charade and you can start by telling me what happened.” The detective glanced up at the clock and back at April. He was going to need some more coffee. That much he was sure of.

April lifted her head up from the table. “I thought you were a detective,
D
etective.”

“Ya, so what’s your point?” The detective lifted his coffee cup, remembered it was empty and set it back down again.

“How old was the girl in the photograph?”

The detective smiled. “Twenty one years old. But you already know that don’t you Mrs. Bander?”

“So I’m thirty five. That means I would have given birth when I was fourteen. That means I would have gotten pregnant when I was thirteen. But I never even had sex until I was sixteen. You see where I’m going with this
D
etective?”

“I see where you’re trying to go with this Mrs. Bander. But you’re not looking at things from my side of the table.”

“Well enlighten me
D
etective.”

“The DNA tests are 99 % conclusive that the girl belongs to you and Michael. Michael was found with the body. You both own the property
she was buried on. The girl
was twenty
one
years old. Now according to the CSI’s here in this building, and I’ve got to tell you Mrs. Bander, they are damn good at their job and way overqualified, and according to what they are telling me about the DNA match, there is a ninety nine percent chance that you are lying to me right now. Mrs. Bander, the evidence is telling me that there is a ninety-nine percent likelihood that you gave birth to that girl twenty
one
years ago. So forgive me Mrs. Bander if I don’t believe that you began having intercourse at age sixteen.” The detective said bluntly.

“Ok, if I was pregnant, then you should be able to find some record of it. Doctor bills, parents, teachers, photos. How many people have you spoken to, to confirm your theory
D
etective?” April asked.

The detective looked her in the eyes. “None yet Mrs. Bander. We were hoping you would be forthcoming with the truth and that it wouldn’t be necessary. But yes, speaking to your relatives, friends, and teachers is what we will be doing over the next couple of weeks.”

“Well, you can’t hold me for the next couple of weeks. So why not just let me go home?”

“Mrs. Bander, I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of your situation. You see, we can only hold you for twenty-four hours without charging you. The DA will likely charge you tomorrow with murder, conspiracy to commit a crime, obstruction of justice, or some other charge. Either way, you’re not likely to be going home anytime soon.”

“How have I obstructed justice?” April asked wild eyed.

“Because you’re still lying about giving birth!”

“I’M NOT LYING!” April screamed at the detective. “Isn’t there any test you can do to tell if I’ve given birth?”

The detective was silent for a moment. “If you are willing to submit to a gynecological exam and x-rays, I’m sure that would help your case if you really are telling the truth.” The detective said.

April hesitated for a moment. She looked vacantly at the wall and then back at the detective. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

The detective smiled. He was going to get some sleep after all.

Chapter 33

Michael’s heart was about ready to blow up inside his chest it was beating so hard. He had been so focused on getting away and then so lost in thought that he had walked right into an occupied garage. There was a man sitting at a workbench in front of him. There was a long florescent light over the bench that lit up about a six foot area surrounding it.

The man had brown hair that hung down to his shoulders. He was holding up what looked to be an rc car or radio controlled car. He had it balanced carefully in his left hand and was studying carefully, trying to add something with his right. He never even glanced toward Michael. Michael’s heart had started to slow a little and his adrenaline levels started to go down. He turned around and grasped the doorknob. He thought if he could make it inside unnoticed, he may be able to make it back out that way as well. Michael winced and turned the knob.

“You’re not leaving on my account I hope.” The man with the brown hair spoke to him.

“I..I…must have walked in
to the wrong place. Sorry about that.” Michael said with his hand still on the door knob.

“No. No, I’m pretty sure this is the right place. It’s where you slept last night is it not?” The man asked.

Michael released his grasp on the doorknob and turned around. The man still hadn’t even looked in his direction. He was still staring at the object in front of him. “I’m sorry. I needed a place to stay. I’ll be on my way.”

“Don’t be silly Michael. They are looking for you. I think you know that.” The man said. “Pull up a seat. Stay a while.” The man took his eyes off his work and nodded toward a stool that was near him.

Michael hesitated, then pulled the stool back a little and sat down on it. He slung his backpack to the floor. “You know who I am?” Michael asked incredulously.

“Of course. You are Michael Bander. Biology Teacher. Wanted for the murder of a young girl.”

“I didn’t kill any girl!” Michael rattled off a little too fast.

“I’m sure you didn’t. But it’s not me you need to convince now is it?”

“So you believe me?” Michael asked.

“Of course. But what I believe is irrelevant now isn’t it?” The man looked at Michael and then back at the rc car.

Michael thought for a moment. “Not to me it isn’t. I haven’t got too many supporters out there if you know what I mean.”

“You have more than you know.” The man said.

“What do you mean? How do you know me?” Michael asked.

“I’ve had two kids in your biology class. I’m not sure that my son and daughter have ever agreed on anything before. But they’ve just agreed on one thing….”

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

“That you are the best teacher that they’ve ever had in their lives and that you could not have done what they say you have.” The man with the long brown hair looked back into Michael’s eyes and then back at his work again. “And both of my kids are very intelligent and intuitive Mr. Bander. If they say you’re innocent, I’m inclined to believe them.”

Michael’s eyes began to well up with tears. Not just because someone out there believed him to be innocent, but because of the sudden realization that maybe he was making a difference out there. Maybe he was touching the hearts of his young students. Michael turned his head and wiped away a tear. “Tell them thank you for me.” Michael said.

“You can stay as long as you need to. My family doesn’t know you are out here and I would prefer to keep it that way. I’ll leave you the keys to my car. After everyone leaves tomorrow, you may take it and do what you need to do. I’ll wait until the following morning to report it stolen in case you decide to keep going.”

“Why are you doing this for me? Don’t you even want to ask me if I did it?” Michael asked.

The man looked over at him. “Have you been able to convince the police you didn’t do it?” The man asked. His light brown eyes peering deep into Michael’s soul.

Michael looked ashamed. “Well…no.”

“Then what would be the point in me asking if you haven’t even been able to convince the police?” The man returned to his work. He s
a
t the car down on the bench and put the cover over it. It was quite remarkable. “And I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do. If you are innocent, then I’m helping an innocent man. If you are guilty, then I would only be causing harm to my family to call in law enforcement. One because my kids respect you, and two because knowing a man wanted for murder was sleeping in our garage may prevent them from getting another peaceful night’s sleep ever. They would always be thinking, wondering, and worrying, if there might be a murderer hiding out in the garage. So you see, if I turned you in, I could be jeopardizing any chance they have of feeling safe and secure each night as they crawled into bed. But make no mistake, if my family comes to harm, the law will be the last thing you have to worry about.”

Michel nodded. He understood. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“You’re welcome. The keys to the car are on the counter. Don’t take it until after nine in the morning when everyone has left. I’ll walk to work in the morning so nobody will know the car is gone but me.” Michael nodded. “There is a plate of food for you upstairs, a blanket and pillow, and a bucket with a bag inside it in case you need to use the restroom. If you do, take the bag out with you in the morning and pitch it in the trash.”

“Thank you again.” Michael said. “But how did you know I was here?”

“It’s a man’s job to know what’s going on in his household. I’ve got silent alarms and cameras. And there’s only one man on the run in Angel Falls that I am aware of. That makes you the most likely intruder to camp out in my garage.” The man got up and turned out the light. “Good luck tomorrow Mr. Bander. You’re going to need it.”

“Thank you.” Michael said as the man headed out the door. Michael picked up his backpack and turned and found where the pull down cord was for the stairs into the loft. The light from the outside lamps flooded through the garage door windows and gave him just enough light to see. Michael climbed the stairs and into the loft and closed the ladder. He really hoped he wasn’t walking into a trap. Michael expected to see police lights or hear sirens at any moment but none came. Why was this man being so nice to him? Michael just didn’t understand. There was just enough light coming in the upstairs window that Michael could see a blanket and pillow laid out on the floor for him. There was a flashlight next to it that he grabbed and flipped on carefully. He found the plate of food. It was covered tightly in saran wrap. There was a large pork chop, mashed potatoes, corn, and a fork. No knife. Michael chuckled at that and opened the wrap and dug in. He suddenly felt like he was starving. His nerves had kept his hunger at bay for most of the evening. But now he was starting to calm down and his hunger had returned with a vengeance. He couldn’t remember the last time food had tasted so good. It was cold, but Michael didn’t care. He ate it all and sat back feeling content for the first time in days. It seemed like years.

Michael opened his backpack and took out some of his supplies. He hunted around with the flashlight until he found a shallow metal pan. Michael took off his clothes. He ripped his shirt down into a few rags. He took the water bottle and soaked the first rag and used it to clean out the metal
pan
that was covered in dust. Then he set the
pan
down and emptied the contents of his water
bottle into it
. Michael grabbed the soap he had purchased and another rag. He dipped the rag into the water and lathered it up lightly with the soap. He scrubbed his face, arm pits, and his wound thoroughly with the soapy rag. He then used another rag to rinse himself off and wrung it out into the pan. Dried blood had formed around the wound. Michael studied it carefully with the flashlight. There was still some wet blood, but for the most part, he had stopped bleeding. He didn’t think he was going to need stitches. The bandage and tape should do fine. Michael scrubbed up the dried blood until it was gone. He treated the wound with rubbing alcohol which about made him cry out in pain. Michael bit down on his fist and waited for the burn to subside before adding
triple antibiotic ointment
,
a
bandage, and pulling it all to
gether with the medical tape
. He felt good. He felt clean. Michael tossed on his clean t-shirt and shorts and lay back on the bed. He drifted off to sleep with a smile only a good meal and clean, dry clothes could have brought him under the circumstances. Michael slept well despite his reoccurring dream that always took him to the same place where he had first kissed April by the river in the amusement park. And every time it ended with him holding a pretty little girl in his arms whom had just been shot. Michael spoke her name over and over while tossing and turning in his sleep. “Maria.”