All Dressed in White (Under Suspicion #2)(37)
“Walter,” Alex said quietly, “is there anything you want to add to that?”
“If you’re lucky enough to live to our age, inevitably you’ll have some regrets. My biggest one is making Sandra feel the way she just described. But the truth is my life never went back to normal, and it never moved on. In my own way, I’m still in limbo, too, Sandra, but alone.” He looked at his ex-wife. “Because here’s the thing you never realized: I wasn’t the tough one. You were. I couldn’t walk with you on your journey to find Amanda because I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t want to find out she was dead, and I couldn’t take the thought of her resenting me so much that she’d leave the whole family behind. So I hid myself away in my work and pretended that we had to move on. But I’m not hiding anymore. I’m here with you and Henry and Charlotte. And I’m ready for the truth, no matter where it leads us.”
Laurie gave a hand signal to the cameraman to stop shooting and let the room become quiet. She turned away as she saw Walter wipe a tear from his face. The Pierces deserved some semblance of privacy. It was a moment of silence for Amanda.
35
When Laurie got back to her room, her father was sitting on the couch watching cable news. He hit the mute button on the remote control, and she kicked off her shoes and settled on the couch next to him.
“That was pretty heavy,” she sighed.
She and Leo had adjoining rooms, each with two beds. The door was open, and she could see Timmy at his Wii in Grandpa’s room.
Having watched Sandra and Walter’s raw emotions about their missing daughter, she could only think again how blessed she was that her father was always there for them.
Leo put his arm around her. “I’m sure it was tough, but I think I have some good news for you. Your new lead, the man in the surveillance footage, may have paid off, and it’s pretty interesting.”
? ? ?
As Laurie waited, Leo got up and walked over to the desk in the corner of the room.
“Remember I mentioned that the photographer’s intern only had one conviction?” he asked.
“Sure. Something about violating a court order? What did he do? Fail to show up for a traffic ticket?”
“That wouldn’t be nearly as intriguing as this.” Leo’s expression was serious as he handed her a manila file folder. “Start with the first document. That’s the court order in question.”
The header on the first page read Order of Protection. It was filed by Patricia Ann Munson and Lucas Munson, Petitioners, against Jeremy Carroll, Respondent. In the first paragraph, the court concluded that Carroll had caused the petitioners to suffer “substantial emotional damage or distress” by harassing them repeatedly with “no legitimate purpose.” The court order prohibited Carroll from being within 840 feet of the Munsons or intentionally contacting or communicating with them by any method whatsoever.
“This is a stalking order,” Laurie said, continuing to flip through the pages. “Why eight hundred and forty feet? That seems like a strange number.”
“The Munsons were his next-door neighbors. My guess is that was the number of feet from his front door to their property. The court can’t force him to move from his home.”
The next document was an affidavit from Lucas Munson, swearing to the allegations that formed the basis of the stalking order.
“Whoa,” Laurie said, “he sounds like a complete nut. No wonder some of the photography clients complained he couldn’t respect boundaries.”
She read quickly through the court papers. According to the Munsons, who were in their sixties, they initially appreciated Carroll’s attempts to be neighborly. He would help them carry in the groceries and eventually began bringing them fresh vegetables from the farmers’ market on weekends. But then they noticed his curtains moving when they were mowing the lawn or sitting on their back deck enjoying a cocktail at sunset. Twice, Lucas was certain that he had seen a camera lens between the parted drapes.
When Lucas asked Jeremy whether he had been photographing them, he went inside and returned to the front porch with an album full of pictures. Patricia pruning her rosebushes. Lucas firing up the barbecue in the backyard. The two of them watching television on the sofa, visible through the living room window. Lucas was so stunned, he didn’t know what to say and just left. Jeremy apparently took the lack of a negative response as approval and began leaving photographs of them on their front porch for them every Saturday, a small collection of what they thought were private moments. The final straw that led the Munsons to seek the protective order was when Jeremy started calling the Munsons “Ma” and “Pa.” When Lucas mustered up the courage to ask why, Jeremy’s only explanation was “I’m estranged from my biological parents.”
When she was finished reading, Leo handed Laurie a printout of a very different kind of photograph, a mug shot. The man was holding a sign that read “Jeremy Carroll,” followed by his date of birth and the date of his arrest, five months ago. Laurie could tell from the height chart on the wall behind the suspect that Jeremy was five-foot-ten. He had thinning brown hair and pale, chubby cheeks. His shoulders slumped.
“This could definitely be the man I saw turn and follow Amanda on the surveillance tape,” she said excitedly. “I see he was convicted of violating the order.”