When a couple of detectives showed up later in the afternoon to question Janelle about Ramona's death, she wasn't the least bit surprised—she had been expecting it. She was confident that she would get away with what she had done. Even so, had she been home alone, she wouldn't have opened the door. But since Steven was home, and he opened the door despite Janelle repeatedly telling him not to unless they were expecting someone, she had to answer the detectives' questions. She figured she couldn't dodge them forever, and doing so would only make her look guilty.
A black man and a white woman introduced themselves as they stood with her and Steven in their living room. "I'm sorry to have to bring such tragic news to you folks," the man said, "but there's been a terrible accident."
This was the first time Steven would learn of an event he knew in his gut Janelle had perpetrated, as she was questioned about it.
Janelle didn't say anything, tired of always being the one to speak whenever she and Steven were talking to someone else, and waited for the detective to go on.
"I'm afraid that a relative of yours, Ramona McNeil, died this morning."
Janelle feigned a surprised expression but was determined to remain as quiet as her husband.
The detective gave them a moment to say something, but when they didn't, he continued, "There's been an apparent drowning."
Again, Janelle made sure to blink in surprise but remained as quiet as her husband. However, she grew increasingly uncomfortable with the silence and finally said, "I'm sorry, but we're a little stunned here. Why would she be swimming in the winter?"
"Well, we don't think she was swimming. We think she was visiting your in-laws—Deanne and Spencer Carter, to be exact—when she accidentally fell in the pool and drowned. It appears she couldn't swim."
Janelle glanced at her husband, maintained her surprised expression, but said nothing.
The female detective finally spoke up. "We're pretty sure it was an unfortunate accident, but if by some chance it wasn't, can you think of anyone who would deliberately push her into the pool?"
Janelle shook her head slightly and glanced at her husband again hoping that, for once, he would speak up and end the uncomfortable silence. Sensing that the detectives thought she knew something, she shook her head more emphatically.
"Where were my mother and sister at this time?" Steven asked, finally speaking up, much to Janelle's relief.
"Your mother was at the daycare she attends and your sister was out running errands. Said something about getting garden supplies because they were going to plant some stuff in the backyard."
Janelle was bothered by the fact that the detective answered Steven's question but kept his gaze on her. She pretended not to notice.
"Wasn't there another recent tragedy involving her daughter or niece?" the detective asked.
Steven nodded. "It was her daughter. Someone attacked her, maybe out of jealousy or something, and she lost the baby but she's still in a coma."
Janelle made an uncomfortable note of his use of the word "jealousy."
"If it wasn't an accident, it makes you wonder if there could be some kind of connection, given the pattern that's forming, the detective said."
Janelle remained as quiet as her husband.
"Any input or suggestions you might be able to give us?" asked the detective.
Janelle shook her head. "As sad as it is, we hope it was just an accident."
"Do you think it was an accident?"
"No idea," Janelle said softly.
"Well, again, it was almost certainly an accident, but I would still like you guys to come down to the station for questioning as soon as possible."
They agreed, and then the detectives left. "Oh my God. I can't believe Ramona is dead. As mean as she was to me, I just can't believe it," Janelle said.
Saying nothing, Steven walked into the kitchen.
Janelle followed. "Do you think it really was just an accident?"
"Don't know," said Steven. "Only the person who killed her would know that if it wasn’t."
Janelle couldn't deny that Steven seemed to really believe she was killed.
The following afternoon, after Steven got off work, he and Janelle reported to the police station. Steven walked up to the front desk and told the officer there that they were there to speak to the detective about the Ramona McNeil case. "I don't remember his name. Just that he asked us to stop by."
The officer studied Janelle and said, "Hang on a moment." He left the desk, and a few moments later, he returned with the same male detective they had spoken to at the house.
"Mrs. Stone," he said, focusing on her. "Thanks for stopping by."
"Uh, okay, but my husband is here as well, as you can see."
The detective gave a brief chuckle, as if Janelle had intended that as a joke.
They followed him to a small, windowless room with a rectangular table and two chairs on each side. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?"
Janelle looked at her husband and then at the detective. "No, thanks," she said, frustrated with having to be their spokesperson yet again.
However, she wasn't nearly as frustrated as she was with where the detective chose to sit. She and Steven were directed to sit on the far side of the table. Janelle was furthest from the door, yet the detective made a point of sitting directly across from her, even though the chair across from Steven would have been easier and closer to the door.
"Okay," he began. "Let's see. How well did you know Miss McNeil?"
Steven said nothing, further frustrating Janelle. She was determined to keep a calm expression despite what she was feeling inside. "Are you asking me?" she finally asked.
The detective nodded.
"I only knew her from whenever we would visit my mother-in-law's house."
"Did you know her well?"
Janelle shook her head. "She would occasionally be visiting at the same time we would."
"Did you see her often?"
"No. Steven saw her more and knew her better than I did," Janelle said, yet the detective still wouldn't direct any questions at Steven.
"Would you say you got along?"
Janelle shrugged and said, "I hate to say it, but she wasn't always very nice."
"How so?"
"She mostly had a problem with my weight."
The detective quietly scribbled something in his notebook. Several moments later, he asked, "How would you describe her interactions with other people?"
Janelle thought carefully about what she said. Finally, she shrugged and said, "I never really got to observe her with other people that often, if by 'other people' you mean non-family members."
"Oh no, I'm talking about anyone."
Janelle tried not to fidget.
"Is there anything else you could tell me that may be relevant?"
Again, Janelle tried to deflect the question onto her husband. "He knew her better than I did."
"Is there anything else she berated you for besides your weight?"
"Not specifically."
"Do you think she had any enemies?"
"I didn't know her well enough to say," Janelle said, looking at her husband, but he remained quiet.
"Do you think it was an accident?” asked the detective.
"I think I wasn't there, so I couldn't say."
"Anything else come to mind?"
"No, but can I ask you a question?"
"Sure. Ask away."
"Are you questioning me or us?"
Closing his notebook and putting his pen in his shirt pocket, he said, "I'm questioning everyone who knew her. It's standard procedure. Is that it?"
"That's it," Janelle said, looking at Steven, "unless he wants to add anything."
Steven slowly turned his head to face her, as if to say, "What the fuck do you think?" Janelle had never wanted to slap him harder. "I'm good," he eventually said.
"Okay then. You're free to go. We'll be in touch," the detective said, staring directly at Janelle.
ns216.73.216.154da2
