Splintered by Kelly Miller Page A

today?” Wallace plastered on his most inviting smile.
    “I didn’t stop the paper. So I thought what the hell, might as well read them and get caught up on what’s been going on.” Gleason spoke in a rush of words. “Read Sunday and Monday’s paper on Tuesday, but didn’t read Tuesday’s paper until this morning.”
    “Wait a minute. Slow down. Why don’t you start at the beginning, Mr. Gleason?”
    “Right.” The man took a deep breath. “On Sunday, I drove up to Tallahassee to celebrate my mom’s eightieth birthday. I only planned on staying the day, but then I enjoyed the party a little too much and had to stay over. When I was in the shower Monday morning, mom fell. What a nightmare that was. Anyway, the doctor says she’s fine. I eventually got home Tuesday afternoon. It was actually a fortunate series of events that led me to discovering it.”
    Trying to hide his exasperation, Wallace said, “Discovered what ?”
    “I normally stop the newspaper from being delivered to my house whenever I’m going to be out of town. Got robbed not too long ago, and don’t want to make my place an easy target. Yet, when I got home from my mom’s house, three newspapers were stacked in my driveway. Got lucky. No burglars this time. Anyway, I finally got to Tuesday’s paper this morning and read about the attempted abduction right at my corner. I’m at 8004 Filbert Lane.”
    Wallace remembered knocking on the man’s front door, hoping he’d witnessed the event. Neither Officer Santos nor Detective Wallace had been able to track him down for a statement. “But how can you help, Mr. Gleason? You weren’t even home when it happened.”
    “ I didn’t see anything, but my camera did.” Gleason’s anxiety faded away, and he grinned like he was ready to be pinned with a hero’s medal. He placed the plastic case on top of the table. Wallace could see a silver DVD inside.
    “Told you I got robbed, man. Cops never found out who it was, so I installed a security system. Didn’t want to be unprepared if they made a return visit. I can’t afford to move, but I can surely scrape together enough cash to buy a little peace of mind.”
    “Can I have this?”
    “Sure. It’s a copy anyhow.” Gleason fiddled with a tiny hoop hanging from his earlobe. He looked like an aged hippie with a white-collar job.
    Wallace walked over to some video equipment set up in the corner of the room. He turned on the TV and inserted the DVD into the player. When he looked over his shoulder, he found Gleason standing right behind him.
    “I appreciate you bringing this in, Mr. Gleason. Many folks in your situation would have kept quiet, not wanting to get involved.”
    “I didn’t want an innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Just watch the footage, man.”
    Wallace hit the “Play” button on the remote control. His eyes grew large as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. All the while, Gleason babbled on about how he’d once been interrogated in connection with a convenience store robbery. The cops had wanted to pin the crime on him. They’d sweated him out for six hours. As Wallace watched Maddy Eastin frantically try to flag down the bus driver, he thought about how glad he was that he hadn’t interviewed Gleason in the interrogation room after all. The guy probably would have stroked out. Then Wallace might have missed out on this lead. Wallace smiled as he heard the tap of the dominos as they started to fall.

(17)
EMMA PARKER
    Emma Parker opened the door to her downtown Tampa condo. The smell of tomatoes simmering on the stove wafted out to greet her. She could set her watch by her boyfriend’s schedule. At 6:05 p.m., the pasta water would be bubbling. Beef tips on Mondays. Chicken cacciatore on Wednesdays. All the other evenings belonged to Emma. Not because she enjoyed cooking, but because Ben Jacobs only knew how to prepare two meals. If Emma had to guess, she would say