Piece of My Heart (Under Suspicion #7) - Mary Higgins Clark Page 0,31
of a celebrity,” Leo explained. “It’s not uncommon for prisoners to attract supporters—in some instances, even what you might call groupies. And Gunther is extremely charismatic. I could imagine him persuading someone with a vulnerable mind to help him from the outside.”
“If he plans on manipulating you, why haven’t you heard anything yet?”
“He’s behind bars. If he’s the one calling the shots, it might take a while for the actual kidnapper to communicate with Gunther and plan the next steps.”
Marcy sat quietly next to Andrew on the sofa in their suite, saying nothing, absorbing every last bit of information. True to form, she would listen first and ask questions later.
“If you’re right,” Andrew continued, “what’s going to happen when they realize they have the wrong boy? It’s possible they might panic and—”
The thought had sent a chill down Marcy’s spine, and still, she said nothing.
When Leo was finished spelling out his theory, and her husband was done with all of his questions, she finally spoke. “How or when will we know if you’re on the right track?”
Leo shook his head sadly. “I wish I could tell you, Marcy. If somebody connected with Gunther reaches out to us regarding Johnny, we’ll be certain. Darren Gunther has had eighteen years to blame me for the fact that he’s in prison, and he’s not the kind of man who has ever played by the rules. I keep trying to figure out when and where he’s working a con, stacking the deck in his favor. And now your son is missing. Could it be a coincidence? Maybe. But right now, this is more of a theory than anything else we’ve got.”
Marcy found no comfort in the words.
“Laurie, you said you were in a position to help if we wanted to pursue this.”
“Maybe. The way I see it, Gunther distrusts police, yet craves attention. Media. Fame. And I have my show. Dad has been pitching Gunther’s case for Under Suspicion for weeks, but I was worried about the potential conflict of interest.”
Leo started to interrupt, but Laurie stopped him. “The perception of a conflict of interest,” she emphasized. “If there’s any chance that Gunther has something to do with Johnny’s disappearance, I’ll use my show to get access, both to him and to the people he knows outside of prison. And I don’t have to deal with Miranda warnings, court orders, or any of that. There’s a reason we’ve been able to unearth evidence that police missed for years in some cases.”
Marcy felt Andrew’s hand squeeze hers. “What do you think, babe?” he asked.
Marcy opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Laurie offered her a small smile. “We just gave you a lot of information at once.”
“If we say yes, what would you do first?” she asked.
“The very first thing would be to run it by my boss at the studio, but I know he’ll say yes. Then I’d contact Gunther’s attorney to invite Gunther to sit down with my show for an interview.”
Marcy nodded, letting the information sit with the other facts. “And is that something you could do right now, or…”
“No,” Laurie said. “I’d call the attorney first thing in the morning, and then of course it would take however long to get an answer. But from there, we’d go in for the questioning as quickly as we could possibly do it.”
“So we can think it over for a little bit, is what you’re saying.” Marcy found herself rising from her spot on the sofa, unsure of where she wanted to go from there.
“Absolutely,” Laurie said. “It’s just that—”
“Johnny’s missing,” Marcy said flatly. “Trust me, I don’t need a reminder.” Looking at Andrew, she said, “We’ll let you know for sure early tomorrow morning.”
Andrew reached for her hand. “Are you okay?” he whispered.
She looked blankly at him. Am I okay? Her own voice sounded distant when she finally answered. “Remember how it said in that manual that the consumption of a parent’s consciousness and awareness by a child’s disappearance can lead to physical shock?”
The last thing Marcy heard before she hit the floor was her husband crying out her name.
* * *
When Marcy woke, she was in bed. The room was pitch-black, but she just knew that the hand holding hers was Andrew’s.
Where am I?
She felt like she had been asleep for years. She had been dreaming about helping Johnny with his school science project. He had made a battery out of pennies and nickels, tinfoil, a paper towel, and some salt