by Cynthia Raye
“On the other hand,“ Liz answered, “it’s not unlikely that she won’t tell us. The followers are set apart, by their own choice, and may not like talking to someone they consider an outsider.”
“I guess all we can do is try,” Ronni said. “Let me go ask if she’ll talk to us.” She stood and looked toward the other table. Alice looked up as Ronni approached.
Chapter 30
“Ms. Adams, did you want something?” Alice asked as Ronni came up to her table.
“I was wondering if you’d talk with Ms. Lindquist and me when you’re finished eating.”
Alice frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“We’d just like to talk to you about what happened.”
She seemed surprised. “You mean about Sylvia’s being murdered?”
“That and some other things,” Ronni answered.
“I suppose, though…”
“What is it?” Ronni asked. “If you’d rather not, it’s okay.”
“It’s just that I’m trying to finish reading an assignment for history before next period.” A smile touched her lips. “I guess it’s okay. I’m almost finished. Just a couple more pages to go.” She glanced into Ronni’s eyes. “Okay if I finish that first?”
“Sure,” Ronni told her. “No problem.” She smiled. “Maybe you could come over to our table when you finish.”
“Okay.” Alice seemed impatient. Probably because she wanted to finish her reading, Ronni thought.
“Our table is across the room.”
Alice glanced to where Liz and Emma sat and nodded. “Is Emma going to be there too?”
“I suppose. Is that a problem?”
Alice hesitated for a moment before answering. “I suppose not. She was a friend of Sylvia’s, wasn’t she? Though not one of our friends.”
“You mean the girls—”
“Who were very close to Sylvia?”
“Yes.” Ronni smiled. “I always think of you and the others as her followers.”
At first Alice didn’t seem to know how to respond. Then she smiled. “Actually, I like that because we did follow her, tried to be more like her. We admired her so much.”
“I’ll see you in a few minutes then,” Ronni said.
“A few minutes,” Alice echoed as Ronni turned and headed back to her table.
“So, did she agree to talk with us?” Liz asked.
“As soon as she finishes reading her history assignment.” She turned to Emma. “If you were to guess, who would you say sent the notes?”
“To Millie and me?” Emma asked.
“Yes,” Ronni replied.
“I’m not sure, of course. But I think it may be Kimberly?”
“Kimberly Stocklas?” Ronni asked. The girl in my acting and directing classes?
“That’s the one. You know, she was one of the girls. Those devoted to Sylvia.”
“I suppose I did know that,” Ronni answered. “But why her?”
“She seems to be on the outs with the rest of the girls. I think there’s something going on between her and the others, though I’m not sure what’s involved.”
“Maybe we’re about to find out,” Liz said as Alice walked over to them.
“You wanted to talk with me?” Alice asked, glancing from Ronni to Emma to Liz.
“If you don’t mind.” Liz smiled.
Alice shrugged. “I guess not, though we’re still very upset that someone murdered Sylvia. It’s very difficult.”
Ronni was sure it was difficult. The followers seemingly had all looked up to Sylvia, admired her, all but worshiped her. And to have the object of such devotion murdered must really affect them. Until now, Ronni had thought of them all in a negative sense. But they too were just teenagers, young girls with limited life experience. Sylvia gave them a focal point, something to make their lives important to themselves, and thus she fulfilled a need. Maybe to belong, to feel important. A reason to exist.
“Sit down,” Ronni told her as she pulled the fourth chair away from the table.
Alice again glanced from one to the other as if checking to see their reactions. Finally, she slid into the chair.
“First,” Ronni said, “we don’t think Millie is the one who did it.”
“The one who…” Her voice caught. “The one who killed Sylvia?”
“Yes. We wondered what you thought. And if you have any idea, any suspicion about who did?”
Alice sighed. “At first I thought it was Millie. We all thought so.”
“You and Sylvia’s other friends, you mean?” Emma asked.
“Yes, all of us who looked up to Sylvia.” She paused for a moment. “But we don’t think so anymore.”
“What changed your mind?” Ronni asked.
“Millie’s talking to us at the beginning of the acting class. I think I learned to know her a little better because of that. Actually, I don’t think she’s…that she is the type of person who would commit murder.” She shrugged. “Let me explain. I suppose if we were about to be shot or something or our parents were about to be shot, we could defend them, defend ourselves and stop the person from shooting. Then maybe any one of us could be murderers—but only in self-defense. Otherwise, I’m sure most of us here at school are not potential murderers, Millie included. So no, I don’t think she’s the murderer.”
“But someone obviously hated Sylvia enough or became angry enough to do it,” Liz said.
“Yes,” Alice answered.
“But you don’t have any idea who that could be?”
For a moment Alice didn’t answer. Then she heaved a big sigh. “I do suspect someone, though I feel terrible in suspecting her. I feel like a traitor.”
“I gather you talking about one of the girls who looked up to her.”
Alice nodded.
“Which one?” Ronni asked.
“Oh, God, I hate to do this.”
“I’m sorry, Alice,” Ronni said. She felt sorry for the girl. If she truly suspected it to be one of Sylvia’s other followers, Ronni could certainly empathize with the way she felt. No, she couldn’t put herself in the same position—even as an actor—and truly feel what Alice was feeling.
Alice looked like a scared rabbit pursued by a hunter.
“It’s Kimberly,” she said.
Ronni glanced at Emma who nodded. “I thought it might be too,” she said.
“You did!” Alice said. “But why?”
“I heard some of the other girls talking. I knew Kimberly had done something wrong. I just didn’t know what.”
“Why do you think she did it?” Liz asked.
“A week or so before…” Tears started to flow from Alice’s eyes. “A week before Sylvia died, Kimberly started complaining.”
“Complaining?” Ronni asked. “What about?”
“That Sylvia was getting all the attention. That she was getting tired of it.”
“In other words,” Liz said, “she was jealous of Sylvia.”
“Yes. She said she didn’t think Sylvia was… in her words, a subject of adoration. After all, what made her so special? She often treated us like we didn’t matter, Kimberly said. Only she herself was important. Now those are her words not mine.”
“And what did you do?”
“We tried to talk to her. At first, I thought we’d succeeded in convincing her she was wrong.”
“But you changed your mind,” Ronni said.
“We told her in that case we couldn’t be friends with her anymore,” Alice said. “That was just after school let out. She started to sob and ran from us to get at the front of the line to leave.”
“And that’s it?” Liz asked. “She isn’t a part of your group anymore?”
“No, that’s wrong. The next day she apologized, said she would never say anything bad again. About Sylvia, about how we should look up to her.” She shrugged. “We believed her. But now I’m not so sure.”
“You really think she could have murdered Sylvia?” Liz asked.
�
�I hate to think so,” Alice answered, “but I just don’t know.”
“Do you think Kimberly could be the one who threatened both Millie and Emma?”
“What do you mean? Did someone threaten them?”
“You must be one of the few people in school who hasn’t heard about it,” Liz said. “Gossip was flying everywhere.”
Alice frowned. “What happened?”
Ronni told her about the note and the phone call to Millie. “If we don’t find out who did it… and soon, I’m going to have to call the police again.” She laughed. “It seems lately I’m spending more time with the two detectives than I am with my boyfriend!”
Liz chuckled. “You certainly have had your share of Solomon and Kolonich lately.”
“And look,” Emma spoke up, “this was in my locker just before lunch.” She laid the sheet on the table so Alice could read it. “If we’re calling the police, it’s better you don’t touch it and leave your fingerprints.”
Alice read the note and shook her head. “I have no idea who would have done this. But it’s probably the same person who wrote the note to Millie Petrosky, don’t you think? And the same person who made the phone call.” She frowned. “Unless two people are working together.”
“You have no idea who that could be?” Ronni asked.
“No, except…” Alice’s voice trailed off.
“Kimberly? Is that what you’re thinking?” Ronni asked.
“And like I said, I feel like a traitor.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe I’m totally wrong. I hope so.” She stood. “I want to try to go through my assignment for history one more time. Okay?”
Ronni nodded. “Of course.”
“I have things I have to do too,” Emma said. “I’ll see you later.”
Once she’d gone, Ronni took out her cell. She heaved a big sigh. “In theater,” she told Liz, “it’s called automatism—acting like a robot, repeating the same action over and over again for comic effect. I feel that’s what I’m doing. Calling the police again and again and again.”
As before, they police were at the school in minutes and had Kimberly paged and sent to the cafeteria. Ten minutes still remained in the lunch hour.
Chapter 31
Kimberly hurried into the cafeteria where Solomon and Kolonich waited. Ronni and Liz still sat at their table with the two detectives standing by. A short girl, a couple of inches over five feet, she had black hair and a pale face. She looked frightened.
“Miss Stocklas?” Solomon asked.
“Yes?” Her voice quivered. “I don’t understand. Why do you want to see me?”
“This morning Mildred Petrosky found a threatening note slipped under the door of her locker. Then, just before classes started. she received a phone call backing up the threat. We need to talk about this.” He turned to Ronni. “Your office again?”
“If you like.”
Kolonich turned to Kimberly. “Come with us,” he said. “We want to ask you a few questions.”
Kimberly looked from Liz to Ronni. Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Let’s go, Miss Stocklas,” Solomon said, as he touched her shoulder. “You know the way.”
As they had done with Millie, the two officers had Kimberly sit in the middle chair in front of Ronni’s desk. Then they stood at the front corners of the desk, facing her.
Like Millie, Ronni saw, Kimberly was extremely upset. “I didn’t do anything,” she said. “I don’t know why you think I did this.”
“We understand that you were heard complaining about Sylvia Hawkins in the days before she died.”
“Complaining about her?” Kimberly said. “What do you mean?”
“It seems you were jealous of all the attention she was receiving from a group of girls, a group you belonged to. Is that correct?”
“I may have said something.”
“Did you or did you not complain about being sick of kowtowing to Miss Hawkins?”
“Kowtowing!” She was becoming angry. “More like admiration, respect. We looked up to her.”
“Did you?” Solomon’s tone was sarcastic.
“Yes, we did. She was a wonderful person.”
“Then why did you complain about her.”
“All right. I admit it. I was getting a little tired of devoting my entire life to her.”
“But I thought you admired her,” Kolonich said. “Isn’t that what you told us?”
“Yes, damn it!”
“Why are you getting upset?” Solomon asked. “Is it because there’s a little more to the story than you’re telling us?”
“I didn’t send the notes! I didn’t call her.”
“Just in case though,” Kolonich said, his tone also sarcastic, “we’re going to take a few fingerprints. What do you think of that?”
“I think it will prove that what I’m saying is the truth.”
“Then you’ll be off the hook, won’t you? Even though the idol was fading in your eyes.”
“What do you want me to say? Yes, I was sick of pretending to adore her. Sick of forcing myself to try to be like her—to imitate the way she was, to dress similar to how she did. I admit I had become—what’s the word—disenchanted.” She frowned. “Maybe I was wrong, but I don’t think so.”
“Did you murder her?”
“What!” Kimberly was completely caught off guard. “I thought you already knew who killed her. You arrested Millie Petrosky.”
“She was arrested on suspicion of murder,” Kolonich told her. “That doesn’t mean she’s guilty. It’s up to a judge and jury to decide that.”
“Oh, man! So you don’t think she did it?”
“We suspect she did,” Solomon answered. “Aren’t you listening to what my partner said?”
Ronni shook her head. The questioning had started out neutral. Now the two detectives were edging up to the sort of behavior they’d shown when questioning Millie. She didn’t like that. Like Millie, Kimberly was just a kid. From what she’d seen, a naïve young girl who seemed to be in way over her head. She felt sorry for her, rather than blaming her for being one of the followers. Ronni didn’t know her well but figured she was the type of person who was desperate to fit in, to be accepted, and the other followers had drawn her in. Now she had the courage to rebel, in a manner of speaking.
“Are you going to arrest her?” Ronni asked.
“Please, Ms. Adams, don’t interrupt. Let us make the decisions.”
“It wasn’t by any means a suggestion,” Ronni snapped. “It was a question.” It seemed rather than helping things calm down, her interruption had just the opposite effect. It intensified the situation.