Chapter Nine
A Lead
A week and a half after Michelle's funeral, our home slowly began to piece together the rest of our lives. D.J. had gone back to Stanford and the rest of us tried to get back to normal.
Jesse decided he wanted to take a mini-vacation in Oregon to help clear his mind, so Becky and the twins went with him. Joey's mother called, begging to spend time with him, so he relented and left. Claire, Stephanie and Gia went window-shopping in Downtown San Francisco.
That only left me at home alone. To get my mind off Michelle, I decided to spend the rest of the day cleaning up the house.
I gathered all of my cleaning utensils and liquids. Then I got to work. I scrubbed the kitchen floors. I wiped down the cabinets and countertops and the table. I washed the dishes. I scrubbed the walls and ceilings.
Without missing a beat, I ran straight into the living room and began vacuuming the floor and carpet.
The doorbell rang.
I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone else. After the funeral, we'd been getting nonstop visits from more media, both local and national. ABC wanted this. CNN wanted that. Blah, blah, blah. I was sick of it all. All I wanted was some peace and I was getting none of it.
When I opened the door, there stood a tall, brown-haired, middle-aged woman close to my age standing at the door.
I had no idea who she was, but whoever she was, had to go.
"Mr. Tanner? Hello, my name is Cortney Richardson. I live down the street. I have two children who were friends with your daughter. My daughter, Lacey Lynn sang at her funeral."
I knew Lacey Lynn. Michelle had often invited her over to hang around until Lacey Lynn's parents got home from work.
"Oh, yes. Would you like to come in?" I asked, offering her a seat.
Cortney nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Tanner. This won't take long, I swear. I – Are you cleaning?" she asked, taking a brief look around the living room.
I nodded.
"Oh. Well. Then I'll just leave," she said, beginning to walk out the door.
"No. Not at all. I mean, you came all this way. What is it you want to talk to me about?" I asked.
Cortney took a seat. "Well, I just wanted to say how sorry I am about Michelle. I wasn't in this neighborhood that long, but Michelle was just a cutie pie. In fact, she was the first friend Jason and Lacey Lynn ever made. We moved here from Kenner, Louisiana. It was my husband, the kids and I. My husband, Thomas Allen, he lost his job in Kenner. But he received a job offer here in San Francisco."
I nodded briefly, wondering why this woman was yapping on and on about her life. Didn't she see I wasn't interested?
"Anyway, the twins were devastated about what happened to Michelle. They didn't really have any friends in Kenner; so of course, they were upset when they heard Michelle passed away. I comforted them as much I as I could, but their father…he hasn't been around. Ever since that new job, he's been here and there, there and here. Nobody in the neighborhood has ever seen him before. And "
"Mrs. Richardson, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what is it you want to tell me?" I asked tersely.
"Mr. Tanner, I just wanted to know if you'd seen him. I figured he'd be here to pay his respects to Michelle, figuring Lacey Lynn and Michelle was such good friends. You haven't seen him?"
"No."
"Not at all?"
"No, Mrs. Richardson."
Cortney bit her lip, looking disappointed. "Oh. Well, if you see him, here's his picture. He's been missing for three weeks and I can't even place a finger on him. Thank you, Mr. Tanner."
"Thank you, Mrs. Richardson," I said.
After she'd closed the door, I took a brief glance at the picture and then tossed it on the table.
Then I got back to cleaning up, shaking my head. What a weird woman, I thought, thinking about Cortney Richardson.
Joey returned from his visit with his mother later that evening. He took a look around the living room.
"Ah, so I see you've cleaned up, Danny," he remarked.
"Yeah, a little," I said.
Joey rolled his eyes. "A little. Yeah, right," he replied.
"How was your visit with your mom?" I asked.
"It was okay. Mom cooked all my favorite foods. Plus, I managed to eat three ice cream sundaes after dinner,"
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Pig," I replied.
"And proud of it," Joey added.
He took a seat on the couch and leaned back. "Ah, am I stuffed," he replied.
I just shook my head and sat opposite him in a chair.
"Hey, Danny? Who's this guy?" Joey asked, picking up the picture I'd tossed on the table earlier.
"That's Cortney Richardson's husband. You know, the mother of the little girl and boy from Louisiana that Michelle used to bring over here to play?"
"Oh. Lacey Lynn and Jason. This guy's their father? Looks pretty young to be their dad. I don't think I've met him before."
"No one has. Mrs. Richardson says he's been missing for three weeks now. I can't believe her. I'm still mourning over Michelle and she has the nerve to ask me if I've seen her husband? Who does she think she i"
"This guy, somehow, looks familiar to me, Danny. Doesn't he to you?" Joey asked, handing me the photo.
In the photo, Thomas Allen Richardson was standing next to a pickup truck, posing with his friends and grinning. He didn't look at all familiar to me.
"Should he be?" I asked.
"Danny, call me crazy, but I think this may the guy who…killed Michelle," he said.
I shook my head. "Don't be ridiculous, Joey. What makes you think that?"
"Well, you don't know about this, but after the vigil, I was with Denise when a news correspondent talked to her and asked her about the man's description. And she gave it to him."
"And what did he look like?" I asked imputatively.
"Denise said he had black hair, a black beard and green eyes. She also added that he was pretty tall, which is how he is in this picture."
I grabbed the picture from Joey and took a long look at it.
"He was a White man. He had a black beard on the bottom on his chin and he had long black hair and green eyes..."
Denise's description to the police that day Michelle was kidnapped was exactly how this man looked in the picture. He was tall; he had a black beard, black hair and green eyes.
I gasped. Could it be? I thought. Could this man be Michelle's killer?
And why did he suddenly vanish? Was he on the run? Was he afraid someone was going to find him and charge him with murder?
"Joey, pick up the phone," I told him.
"What are you going to do?" he asked, handing it to me.
"If this man is the one who killed Michelle, then it's time that justice is being served," I said.
