Murder in the Middle: A Susan Wiles Schoolhouse Mystery (5 page)

Chapter 14

Susan felt her heart beating like a metronome set to
presto
. Despite the freezing air, she felt the clamminess of cold perspiration on her brow and in her palms.
How am I ever going to get out of here? Think, Susan, think.
Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark, but still she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Afraid of bumping into something, she sat down on the frigid concrete floor and tried to formulate a plan. She’d seen a small window but it was near the ceiling and out of her reach. It certainly wasn’t letting any light through, probably because it was caked with dust and dirt. She could try throwing something at it, but it would literally be a shot in the dark. Visions of dying cold and alone in this basement swirled in her head. She crept along the floor, not knowing what she was hoping to find. The dust made her sneeze and she could feel torn nylon from her pantyhose on both of her legs.

Her knees ached as she crept along, until she felt the corner of what was either a washing machine or a dryer. Disappointed that it wasn’t a door, she continued. Then bingo––an old fashioned fridge. She’d briefly noticed it when she first scanned the basement.
Please God, let it be plugged in.
The front was one solid piece, she ran her hand up the ceramic door until she felt the metal handle.
Slow down, heart. Breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. One, two, three.
She tugged on the door until it opened and light washed over the room. She felt her whole aching body relax as she was at last able to exhale. She was still in a quagmire, but at least she could see now. She reached again into her coat pocket for her phone, then remembered again that it was in her purse. In the car. Parked down the road under the trees.

Think, Susan, think.
She climbed up the steps leading into the house but as suspected, the door was locked.
By now Mike is worried and he would have called Lynette. They’re probably on their way.
Susan had enough faith in Lynette to assume she’d somehow made the connection between mass, the former principal, and this address. Meanwhile, she had to see if Sophie was down here––drugged, gagged, or unconscious––because heaven knows she hadn’t heard anything but her own voice inside her head. She canvassed the basement, looking for a hidden door, or some other hiding place, but found none. Her stomach was rumbling from hunger since she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

She noticed a mound of laundry on the floor and began rummaging through it. After a bit of searching, she found a navy sweatshirt with “Westbrook Wolverines” embroidered on the front. It looked too big for the former principal. It had to belong to Sophie.

Chapter 15

“Hurry, Lynette. I’ve seen you drive faster than this going to Shop Rite to pick up milk. Mom’s life is at stake,” said Mike.

“Dad, I’m going as fast as I can. You know I want to find her too.” Lynette leaned on the gas pedal.

“Turn left here,” said Jackson. “The house should be coming up soon.”

Lynette slowed down. “Here’s the driveway. Look at those tire tracks. They continue and then turn into the bank of trees past the mailbox.” There was just enough snow left on the ground to allow the tracks to be visible.

They crawled along in the cruiser until Mike shouted, “That’s Mom’s car!”

Jackson ran out first, followed by Mike and Lynette. They tugged on the car door but it was locked. Mike kicked the door.

“Wait, I have a key,” he said. They saw Susan’s purse open on the seat with her phone tucked inside it. “She must be in the house.”

The trio made their way to the porch and knocked on the front door. Principal Talbot flung it open from the inside.

Susan heard knocking upstairs. Then she recognized familiar voices.
I knew they’d find me.
Minutes passed like hours. She yelled Mike’s name, but doubted he heard her. She screamed for Lynette.
Please don’t leave. Come on. Check the basement.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” said Principal Talbot. “There’s an intruder in my basement. I caught her snooping around in my back yard and managed to trap her downstairs. I was terrified and I couldn’t stop shaking. Thank God you came!”

“Where is she?” demanded Mike. “Where’s my wife?” The veins in his neck were bulging.

Principal Talbot pointed to the door leading down into the basement. Lynette insisted on going down first. They ran down the stairs and found Susan holding a sweatshirt in front of a pile of laundry.

“Thank God you’re okay,” said Mike. He grabbed her and held her tight.

“Thank God
she’s
okay? This woman was trespassing in my yard, up to who knows what and you’re worried that
she’s
okay? I’m pressing charges.”

“I hear sirens,” said Lynette.

“I called the station three times,” said Principal Talbot. “You all sure took your time getting here.

Two officers stormed down the basement steps.

“Ma’am are you okay?” He stood in front of Principal Talbot. “We got a call about an intruder in the house,” said one of the officers.

“Thank goodness you came. She’s right there,” said the principal. She pointed her finger at Susan.

“Officer, we have the situation under control,” said Lynette, showing her badge. “Everything is fine here.”

The principal threw up her hands and stopped protesting. The two officers left.

“Come on, Mom. Let’s get you home,” said Lynette.

“That sounds great, but there’s something I need to show you first.” Susan held up the sweatshirt. “I think I found proof that this woman abducted Sophie.”

Chapter 16

A hot shower and take-out pizza had never felt this good. Susan, snuggled into her fluffy bathrobe and pink slippers, relaxed on the sofa next to Mike.
Sixty Minutes
came on television.

“I can’t wait till Lynette runs tests on that sweatshirt and proves it belongs to Sophie,” said Susan.

“I hope it was worth risking your life over it. You know,” said Mike, “It could actually belong to the principal.”

“The size was all wrong. Besides, if you’d been recently evicted from your post at Westbrook Middle, would you be waltzing around in one of their sweatshirts? It was in a pile of laundry and must have been worn recently. It has to be Sophie’s.”

“If they can prove it, maybe they can lean on her and find out where Sophie is. She backed down pretty easily on pressing trespassing charges against you. I’d think it’d be a snap to break her,” said Mike.

Susan’s eyes were drawn to the TV screen. They were doing a story about adoptees looking for their birth parents. She’d been unsuccessfully hunting for hers for over a year now and any mention of adoption blipped loudly on her personal radar.

“Turn it up, Mike. Those people they’re interviewing; they’re old––like me.”

“Stop it. Sixty-two isn’t old.”

“No, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that most of the time when you hear about adoption stories they feature younger people. I guess by my age you’ve either found what you were looking for, or have given up. Turn it up.”

The story was about a doctor who lived in a small Georgia town back in the fifties. He was no longer alive, but all kinds of evidence had been cropping up implicating him in a baby-selling scheme involving hundreds of children who would now be in their fifties and sixties. According to the story, he was one of a handful of doctors willing to perform abortions as a service to desperate, pregnant women. When these women came to him, however, he managed to talk them into adoption instead, offering to financially support them during their pregnancies, and then place their babies with loving, Christian parents.

“Look, Mike. They’re saying this doctor falsified birth certificates and sold the babies to out-of-state couples. Do you think it’s possible…?”

“Don’t go jumping the gun here. You grew up in New York. How would your parents have even known about this doctor? They lived far from Georgia. And why wouldn’t they have gone the traditional route instead of looking at the black market?”

“Maybe they thought this was a traditional adoption. I don’t know. My mom was already in her forties when she adopted me. She was probably anxious. Maybe my parents didn’t do a whole lot of investigating beforehand.”

The reporter was now interviewing an older woman who’d been one of these
Georgia Babes
as they were being referred to. She’d found her birth mother through matching DNA and had formed an organization that traveled throughout the country offering DNA testing to adoptees who’ve been struggling to find their birth parents.

“Mike, I just remembered something. Mom had an older sister who got married and moved to Georgia. She died when I was still a kid, but I remember Mom mentioning her. It was my Aunt Karen.”

“I suppose somehow that could have been a connection but don’t you think the odds are slim?”

Sixty Minutes
flashed a web address and toll-free phone number to contact for further information. Susan copied down the information.

“Chances may be slim but what do I have to lose? I’m going to find out if they’re coming anywhere near here with their testing service. It’s just a cheek swab. It’s painless and free. Why not?”

“And you’re sure you want to know? You keep going back and forth on this.”

Susan had certainly been struggling all year with whether or not to search for her birth parents. One day it seemed like a great idea. The next, she was afraid of what she might find. Maybe her mom was in jail or a drug addict. Worse yet, maybe her birth mother simply didn’t want her. What if she’d gone to Georgia hoping to get an abortion?

“Mike, I’ll always wonder who they are if I don’t find them. I’m not good at living with unsolved mysteries, you know that by now.”

“Go for it,” said Mike. “But know that you’re not doing this alone. I’ll be right at your side, whatever you decide.”

Chapter 17

The next morning, Susan once again questioned the wisdom of searching for her birth parents. A part of her felt as though she was betraying the parents who raised her. Her childhood was rich both in love and in experiences. The loss of her mom last year was still an open wound waiting for a scab to form. On the other hand, what if there was medical history that she should be aware of? And didn’t Annalise deserve to know about her true genealogy?

Although her hands were shaking, Susan called the toll free number she’d copied from
Sixty Minutes
. She learned DNA testing was going to be offered in Manhattan in a few weeks. She went ahead and made an appointment, knowing that she could count on Mike to make the trip with her. Blood rushed to her head in excitement as she marked the date on her calendar. She had a feeling this might lead to the answers she’d been seeking.

Meanwhile, it would take at least a few days to get test results back on Sophie’s sweatshirt. If the former principal turned out to be innocent, the next most logical suspect would be Adam’s brother, Caleb. Caleb thought Sophie had deliberately pushed Adam over the edge of the waterfall to collect the life insurance money. Caleb was still in Germany. He couldn’t have abducted Sophie, right?

Susan wondered how plausible it would have been for Sophie to kill Adam. She had benefitted financially from the situation, but why take such a risk? Besides, even if you hated your spouse, it would be quite a leap to commit murder.

Susan dug out the copies of the articles she’d gotten from the library––the accounts of the accident. She needed to see for herself how reasonable it may have been for Sophie to have murdered Caleb’s brother.

Maybe Annalise would like a little stroller ride around Lake Minnewaska.
Susan knew Jason was at home with her on Mondays and gave him a call.

“Make sure you keep her hat on and the blanket pulled up,” said Jason. “I’m not sure Lynette would want her going out in the cold like this.”

“You know I’ll make sure my grandbaby stays warm,” said Susan. “It’s a beautiful day and the fresh air will be good for her.” Then she took Annalise from Jason’s arms and kissed the baby’s neck.

“We’re gonna have a nice little walk. Right Anabanana?” Annalisa squealed as if she’d understood every word. Susan packed up the stroller and strapped Annalise into her car seat. The sky was as blue as a tropical sea, and as Susan wound her way up the pine-laden mountain, she wondered if she should try painting landscapes. That’s a hobby she hadn’t tried. What a shame not to capture this scenery.

Lake Minnewaska wasn’t far, and since it was a Monday in the middle of January, there were few visitors. She was able to park close to where the trail up the waterfall started. As she pushed the stroller up the hill, she could hear the water spilling down the waterfall. Because it was winter, the trail was closed part way up the mountain, but Susan ducked under the chain, and was able to get to the spot where Adam had fallen. A makeshift wooden cross marker with a rosary around it confirmed she was in the right place.

“Well, Anabanana, there’s not even a railing at the edge of the waterfall. And the way this trail winds, it’s possible no one would have seen around the bend if Sophie had attempted to push Adam. Someone who’s afraid of heights would not have gone all the way to the edge. It is a little creepy looking down at the water here, don’t you think?”

“Gaga,” said Annalise. That was her name for Susan. Annalise said
Gaga
before she even said
Mama
. Susan took a good look around before heading back to the car. There were many boulders and assorted smaller rocks along the trail. Could Sophie have hit Adam on the head with one of them? Na. That would have left some kind of mark.

“Time to go,” said Susan. On the way home, she stopped at the McDonald’s with the indoor play area and shared a bit of a vanilla ice cream cone with the baby before dropping her off at Lynette and Jason’s. Then she decided to stop by the middle school and have a little talk with the guidance counselor. She wanted to know more about Sophie’s character since her curiosity had been piqued. If Caleb was convinced that Sophie murdered Adam, maybe he’d found a way to get back to the states. Perhaps he enlisted the help of a friend. Revenge was a strong motive for wanting Sophie dead.

Susan greeted Antonio and walked back to Elaine’s office.

“Hi, Elaine. Are you busy?”

“Not really. What can I do for you? Do you have news about Sophie?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on it. You know how you told me there were rumors about Sophie killing her husband?”

“Yes, ridiculous rumors.”

“So, there’s no way you can imagine anything driving Sophie to that, right? I heard they were having financial issues and the relationship was deteriorating.”

“Adam lost his job and they were a bit overextended, so naturally there was tension in the relationship. That doesn’t mean Sophie would have killed him.”

“What if she’d seen no way out of the financial mess?”

“Susan, you have to keep this confidential, but there was another way.” Elaine leaned in closer. “Sophie’s old high school boyfriend had come back into the picture. He was her ticket out. The guy owns a plumbing business and Sophie said he wanted her to divorce Adam and he’d take care of her. Sophie was going to do it.”

“Elaine, are you sure? Where’s this boyfriend now?”

“I am sure, but it doesn’t matter. What are we going to say––that Sophie didn’t kill Adam because she was going to leave him for an old boyfriend with whom she was having an affair?”

“It would help clear the murder rumors.”

“It doesn’t matter. There wasn’t any evidence that Sophie had hurt Adam, and the rumors have completely died down. What does this have to do with her disappearance? Our focus has to be on finding her.”

“Where’s the boyfriend now?”

“They called it quits after Adam’s death. Sophie was too upset to be involved in a relationship after what happened. She never mentioned him again after Adam died.”