The Surprise

by Alice Ward

  I swallowed back another sob and nodded as Detective Dickson led me away.

  ***

  The short walk from the hospital to Detective Dickson’s unmarked sedan was the longest thirty seconds of my life. The press had somehow gotten wind of Ethan’s visit to the hospital, and a group of them had gathered outside. They swarmed us, firing questions so quickly that their words muffled each other out. I kept my head high. Ethan had warned me not to speak to anyone, so I gave them my best innocent, confused smile but remained silent.

  Dickson peppered me with questions as he navigated to the police station. He reminded me that I hadn’t caused any lasting damage and promised to petition the judge for leniency if I confessed and agreed to check myself into a psychiatric facility. I stayed silent for the entire trip, save one hostile snort that slipped out after he mentioned the mental hospital. My confusion and numbness wore off, turning to white hot anger. I had no idea who’d tampered with the trail mix, but I knew I was innocent. Someone set me up, and they’d endangered one of my students to do it. I resented the fact that I was the one being charged while, for all we knew, the real culprit was planning his next attack.

  The booking process was relatively straight forward, much like you’d see on any reality cop show. A female officer searched me, then took my picture and scanned my fingerprints into a computer. She left my hands uncuffed and led me to a small interrogation room.

  “Detective Dickson will be in shortly,” she advised, turning back for the door.

  “I’m not speaking to anyone until my lawyer is here,” I replied. I felt much more comfortable asserting myself with her than the broody, formidable detective.

  “That’s a great idea,” she agreed, giving an ever so slight smile before slipping back into the hallway.

  She either senses I’m innocent, or she recognizes me because of Ethan.

  The room didn’t have one of those creepy two-way mirrors, but I still had the eerie sense that I was being watched. I’d watched enough episodes of True Crime to know that there was probably a surveillance camera pointed at me and felt pressured to act appropriately. But I had no idea what an appropriate reaction to the situation would look like. I ended up having plenty of time to practice. The female officer checked on me periodically, but five hours passed before anyone else stepped into the room. Finally, Detective Dickson returned holding a set of handcuffs.

  What the fuck is going on?

  I was convinced that the cuffs meant no one was coming for me, and that I’d have to spend the night in lockup. The detective met the fear on my face with a sneer.

  “Don’t worry. Unfortunately, I’m not moving you to a cell just yet. Your fancy lawyer pulled some strings and got a judge to agree to arraign you this afternoon. Regardless of the outcome, you’ll be coming back here after. I still have a lot of questions.”

  I nodded, but still didn’t speak.

  “You’re taking your right to remain silent incredibly literally,” he observed, leading me back to the parking garage.

  I nodded again and cleared my throat. “I don’t mean to be uncooperative,” I explained. “I’ll answer anything you ask once my lawyer is here.”

  He opened the back door of his sedan and I slid across the cheaply upholstered seat. He sank behind the steering wheel and drove to the courthouse without any further comment.

  I’d hoped to have a moment alone with my new attorney before the hearing, but the judge was ready to leave for the day so there wasn’t any time. Detective Dickson handed me off to a bailiff, who walked me to the defense table and took off my handcuffs. A tall, broad man with salt and pepper hair greeted me with a smile and a handshake.

  “Miss Kinkaid, I’m Frank Upton. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. We’ll have plenty of time to talk after the hearing.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Frank. Thank you for getting the arraignment scheduled so quickly. Do you think I’ll be able to go home tonight?”

  “That’s the plan,” he replied.

  I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and turned to find my uncle’s soft, concerned eyes.

  “Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up? I got here as soon as I could. Claudia’s parking the car, I didn’t want to miss anything.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” I confessed. The corners of my mouth twitched as I tried to hold back frustrated tears.

  “I know… but we’re going to get through it,” he promised.

  I nodded, wiped my face with my palms, and turned back to Frank. “Where’s Ethan?” I asked with a sniffle.

  A look of confusion spread across his face, but before he could reply, the bailiff called the court to order. A man who didn’t look much older than me settled in behind the bench and reviewed the charges against me. I pled not guilty and Frank petitioned for bail.

  “Your Honor, the state objects to any bail for Miss Kinkaid pending a psychological evaluation. A young child nearly lost his life. I think we can all agree that it’s best to err on the side of caution,” the prosecutor insisted.

  “My client has strong ties to this community,” Frank argued. “She’s a well-respected teacher with no criminal history or past mental health issues. The state’s case is circumstantial. The police haven’t even finished reviewing video surveillance from the school’s security system. Miss Kinkaid’s arrest is a rush to judgment, Your Honor.”

  The judge narrowed his eyes and studied me for a few tense moments before turning to the prosecutor.

  “Mr. Nelson, I’m approving the defense’s motion for bail. I suggest that in the future, you bring solid evidence into my courtroom. I’m scheduling a pretrial hearing for January thirtieth. Miss Kinkaid, I’m not going to put a monitor on you. But I’m also not going to mince words. I know you’re involved with a man who has ample resources to help you disappear. If you so much as step one foot out of this county, I will revoke your bail and you’ll wait for your day in court behind bars. Do you understand?”

  I cleared my throat and nodded politely. “Yes, Your Honor. I assure you I have no interest in leaving town. I’m innocent of these charges and eager to clear my name.”

  “Bail is set at half a million dollars,” he declared, slamming his gavel onto the desk. “Court is adjourned.”

  We all rose to our feet as Judge Shaw stepped off of the bench and through a large oak door. The room relaxed and I turned to face my uncle. At some point during the hearing, Ethan and Claudia had joined him. I wasn’t sure who to hug first, but Ethan took a step back and let Walt have the honor. My uncle wrapped me in a bear hug and extended one hand to Frank.

  “Thank you so much, man. I owe you one.”

  “I’m happy to help,” the lawyer replied. “Next time we take the ladies out, I’ll let you pay for dinner.”

  “You arranged for Frank to represent me?” I asked, pulling away. When I left the hospital, I assumed Ethan would call one of his family attorneys, the Noel man he’d mentioned. It never crossed my mind that Walt might know someone who could help.

  “Yes, Claudia went to school with Frank’s wife, Deborah. We all get together from time to time,” Walt explained.

  I gave Claudia a quick hug and then fell into Ethan’s arms. He held me close and kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, baby. I—”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I insisted. “The only person who should be apologizing is the monster who really attacked Alfie. I want to know what we do next. How do we prove that I’m innocent and, more importantly, figure out who isn’t?”

  “There are many steps. But unfortunately, before we discuss them, you and I have to go back to the police station. Detective Dickson wasn’t too happy to have his interrogation delayed by this hearing,” Frank warned.

  “Let’s get it over with,” I agreed. “I have nothing to hide. I want to cooperate with the police as much as possible so they’ll stop wasting their time with me and look for the real culprit.”

  “We’ll come to the
station and wait to drive you home,” Walt offered.

  I shook my head. “There’s no sense in all of us being stuck there. I can take a taxi home.”

  “I can drive you,” Frank piped in. “We’ll need to talk strategy after we’re finished with the cops.”

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Walt, Claudia, you’re welcome to wait at my house. We can set up a command center of sorts for the case. And that way, Emily will only have to recount the interrogation once.”

  “That’s an excellent idea, Ethan. Thank you,” Claudia accepted with an appreciative smile. Walt didn’t seem as sold on the idea.

  “I think I should be at the station,” he insisted.

  “I won’t let anything happen to her, Walt,” Frank promised, his voice full of patience. “I see this a lot with parents. Things like this happen and you feel helpless to do anything about it. But you did the best thing you could have: you called me. I’ve got it from here, I promise.”

  “If anything unexpected happens, you’ll call me, right?” Walt pressed.

  “Of course I will,” Frank agreed.

  “Is there anything special you’d like for dinner, Emily?” Claudia asked, leading the conversation in a more lighthearted direction.

  I shook my head. “Surprise me.”

  “We really do need to be getting to the station,” Frank pressed.

  Ethan kissed the top of my head again and made me promise to call if I needed anything. I hugged Claudia and Walt, then left through the side exit with Frank.

  “Tell me the truth. How bad is this?” I asked once we were alone. Our footsteps echoed down the marble hallway and a slight chill filled the air.

  “I’ve seen worse. But I’ve seen a lot better. This is a circumstantial case, Emily. And an emotional one, considering the circumstances. A defenseless child was intentionally hurt. The natural human reaction is to demand someone pay for that. The obvious blame falls on you, since the child was in your care. I have to warn you that even if we prove your innocence, you’re likely to still be judged in the court of public opinion.”

  “I know,” I agreed, covering my mouth to muffle the sob that wanted to escape. “How far has the news spread?”

  “The story was already trending online before I took the case. Most of the major national networks, news and sports have already run segments,” he replied matter of factly.

  “So even if I somehow manage to keep my teaching license, I’m basically unemployable?”

  Damn it. I love Ethan. But there are definitely disadvantages to living in the spotlight.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Emily. For now, let’s just concentrate on the task at hand.”

  We stepped into the parking lot and I was relieved to find it photographer free. Frank ushered me into a black Cadillac SUV and turned toward the police station.

  “What did you tell the cops while you were in custody?” he asked.

  “I said I would cooperate fully, but not until my attorney was present.”

  “That’s it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “No professions of innocence or polite small talk that could possibly be misconstrued?”

  “A female officer offered me coffee a couple of times. I said no. That’s the extent of it. It was hard to keep my mouth shut,” I confessed. “Especially when Detective Dickson started suggesting that I’m some sort of psychopath. But I kept my cool.”

  “I wish all my clients had your restraint. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Emily. When we sit down with Dickson, just follow my lead. I promise to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible so you can get back to your life.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Miss Kinkaid, Mr. Upton, thank you for coming back this evening,” Detective Dickson greeted us as he stepped into a larger interrogation room. This one had the two-way mirror and I couldn’t help but wonder how many people were watching us.

  “We have every intention of cooperating with this investigation,” Frank replied, shaking the detective’s hand. “Please don’t take Miss Kinkaid’s earlier silence personally. She was instructed not to speak to anyone until I was here.”

  “You’ll be happy to know she barely uttered a word,” he said, his lip curling in disgust. “This is my colleague, Detective Masterson.”

  A short, pale man with curly red hair stepped into the room behind Dickson, filling the room with the sickly sweet aroma of chewing tobacco.

  “Detective,” Frank greeted him with a nod.

  Masterson glared back at him, not offering a handshake as his partner had.

  Shit. If Dickson is the good cop, we’re in for a long night.

  Masterson leaned against the wall while Dickson leaned back in the chair across from us. He kept his tone casual and started the interrogation.

  “Miss Kinkaid, can you tell me when and where you purchased the trail mix you gave to Alfie Hollis?”

  “I bought it at Valley Health on Cross Avenue. I’m not sure of the exact date, but it was sometime in August. If I looked at my calendar, I could narrow it down. But it’s in my classroom and I’m not allowed on school grounds.”

  “I’ll arrange to have your things picked up tomorrow,” Frank promised.

  “Did you buy anything else that day?” Dickson pressed.

  “Yes, I did. The Hollis family provided us with a list of foods the kids were allowed to eat. We provided all of the other parents with the list in a notice we sent home explaining the Hollis twins’ situation. I wanted to have plenty of allergy-friendly snacks on hand, so I stocked up on most of the nonperishables the Hollis’s suggested. I bought the trail mix, dried fruit, and some coconut honey clusters.”

  Detective Dickson scratched in a notepad while Masterson continued glaring at us from against the wall.

  “And do you provide snacks for all of your students or just the ones with special medical considerations?” the detective pressed.

  “I bring donuts for breakfast on the last day before Christmas break and the last day of school, just as a little extra treat for the students. Other than that, I don’t give the kids snacks. The parents are allowed to bring in cakes and cookies on their children’s birthdays. I knew some of them were bound to forget about Alfie’s allergies and I didn’t want him to be left out while the other kids had treats. So I went to the health food store and stocked up on things he could eat.”

  Dickson nodded, still gazing down at his notepad. “And after you bought the food, what did you do with it?”

  “I left the bags in my trunk and carried them into my classroom the next morning. I put them in a drawer and they’ve been there ever since.”

  “How many times have you provided Alfie Hollis with one of these special treats?”

  “Again, I’d have to look at my calendar. But if I remember correctly, we’ve had six birthdays so far this year and none of the parents provided allergy-free alternatives.”

  “And did you have permission from Mr. and Mrs. Hollis?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Was I unclear?”

  I blushed and looked away from his gaze. “No… it’s just… no, I didn’t have specific permission to give Alfie an allergy friendly treat if the other parents failed to provide one. But they understood that the other parents would occasionally bring snacks.”

  “Did you have permission from the school officials to provide Alfie Hollis with these allergy friendly alternatives?” Masterson finally spoke.

  My face flushed hotter. “No, I didn’t have specific permission to give Alfie anything. But I wasn’t breaking any school policies, either.”

  “Miss Kinkaid, is it true that you recently ended a long-term relationship with one of your colleagues?” Dickson continued.

  “I was involved with Ben Simmons for a year. We broke up a few months ago.”

  I don’t see what that has to do with any of this.

  “Would you call that break up amicable?” he pressed.

&nbs
p; “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Detective, I don’t see what my client’s relationship history has to do with this case,” Frank broke in.

  Detective Winston shrugged. “You know how this works, Frank. At this point, we don’t know what might be relevant. For instance, if Miss Kinkaid went through an embarrassing, public breakup with one of her coworkers, she may have felt motivated to revamp her image a little. The little boy has a scare, she saves the day with the Epi-pen, and suddenly she’s everyone’s hero.”

  “That’s preposterous,” I snarled.

  Frank put a calming hand on my forearm and glared at Dickson. “That’s a terrible, insulting accusation. And it’s one you have no grounds for. Emily has admitted she bought the trail mix and gave it to Alfie. Believe me, if I doubted her innocence for a second, I wouldn’t have allowed her to tell you that much. She didn’t poison Alfie Hollis. But someone did, and my client is more motivated than anyone to figure out who that was. We want to cooperate, but I won’t sit here and let you insult her.”

  “I’m just trying to get to the truth,” Dickson said with another shrug.

  “Maybe your theory is a little off, partner,” Masterson said. He spat into a Styrofoam cup and finally sat down next to Dickerson. “Maybe the old boyfriend wasn’t her motivation. Maybe it was the new one.”

  I don’t know what’s more offensive: what they think I did, or why they think I did it.

  Dickson cocked an eyebrow. “That is a good idea. McAlister gets a lot of airtime, doesn’t he? And the fans don’t like you too much. They think you’re a distraction. But if your hero scenario had played out the way you planned, they’d have never said another word against you.”