Still a suspect

After getting her paycheck and an extra thousand dollars, Rachael ought to be happy, but instead, she was staring at a group of police officers at her door with dismay written on her face.

"Mrs. Rachael Anderson," the less steely blonde pudgy cop said to Rachael who looked devastated.

They all stood in the way, blocking the door while one of them was slightly closer to her than the rest. The look in his eyes held distrust as if she was going to bolt off any second.

"Yes," she clung her bathrobe over her body as water dripped from her wet hair. She was just getting out of the shower when she heard the knock on the door and was abruptly terrified to find a troop of police officers by her door.

"We would like to take you to accompany us to the police station for questioning," the distrustful one said, making it look like she had discretion when in a real sense if she told them no, they would bundle her up in handcuffs and force her anyway.

"What is this about?" she asked even though she