Evan got his first good look at her. She was about five feet nine and shapely with ash blond hair pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, the first streaks of gray visible. She had what you’d call a strong nose and her eyes would have been clear blue and sparkling if it wasn’t for something behind them that stole the light from them. He wouldn’t have called her beautiful, but she was definitely striking. The mention of Faulkner had brought a flush to her cheeks which suited her.
‘I had to start somewhere. I tried you first, but you were a little reluctant to talk.’
‘You didn’t have to start with that horse’s ass. You might as well come in, now you’re here.’ It wasn’t said with what he’d call good grace, but at least he was in.
She led him down the hallway to a small lounge at the back of the house. She waved her hand at an armchair for him to sit. She didn’t offer him a beer. He sat down, looked around the room. It was clear from the number of photographs of her son and husband everywhere that she didn’t hold her husband responsible for her son’s disappearance.
‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘I wanted to talk to you and I came to your office but I got nervous and couldn’t do it.’
‘There’s no reason to be nervous about talking to me,’ Evan said, putting on his best you-can-trust-me face.
‘There is if you’ve been through what I have. If you’ve talked to Faulkner, you’ve already guessed that I wanted to talk to you about Daniel. I’m sure that evil old bastard has told you all his wicked lies about my poor Robbie. But I never believed a word of it. I ask you, would I have all these photographs of him if I thought he could do anything to our boy?’ She waved an arm, taking in the whole of the small room.
He was getting the feeling that now he’d got her started he might not be able to stop her talking.
‘I never believed it and I told them so; and I told them they should keep looking for the monster who really took my boy and not blame my Robbie when he wasn’t there to defend himself. But they’d made up their nasty minds and they didn’t want to hear it. So they started to ignore me and if I collared one of them and they couldn’t manage to squirm out of talking to me, they treated me like I was an idiot. Like I’d gone soft in the head. Even if I was soft in the head, I’d have more brains than that lot put together.’
She stopped for a moment and paused for breath.
‘Trouble was, because their version was the official version, the gospel according to Saint Matthew, everyone else around here believed it. So they all started to treat me like I was crazy, too. You could see it in their eyes. You could see the pity too, as if any of them ever gave a shit.’
She paused again and stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of the offending emotions. She seemed satisfied that they weren’t hiding in there.
‘That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you treating me the same way. Writing me off as some lunatic old woman, wasting your time.’
He couldn’t vouch for the lunatic part at this early stage—it was still a definite possibility—but he certainly wouldn’t have classed her as some old woman. She wasn’t more than mid-forties and she was still attractive, despite all the anguish she’d been through. Life had beaten her down and he could have forgiven her for looking a lot more haggard than she did.
‘Well I’m glad we’re talking now,’ he said, ‘and I promise you I won’t treat you like an idiot just because you won’t believe what the police tell you. I might treat you like an idiot for some other reason, but not that.’ She put her hand up to her mouth to smother a girlish giggle. He liked her even more. ‘I’m interested to know why you’ve taken this up again now and why me? I’m not what you’d call famous.’
‘As far as taking it up now goes, I’ve never dropped it, but getting anyone to listen hasn’t been easy. As for you, you were recommended.’
He assumed it must be Jacobson as he thought originally, even though he’d denied it. He was wrong.
‘I’m good friends with Kate Guillory. She suggested I should talk to you.’
He recognized the name but couldn’t place it. Linda saw his confusion and said, ‘She’s a police detective.’
Now he remembered; Guillory had been one of the cops who’d come to see him about Stanton’s death; the woman, the reasonable one who hadn’t said much. He was dumbstruck.
‘I won’t repeat what she said about you; she wasn’t very complimentary.’ She couldn’t stop herself smiling as she remembered it. ‘But she said it would be killing two birds with one stone, helping me and giving you something worthwhile to do. That was the exact word she used.’
She paused to give him a chance to explain how it was that he needed to do something worthwhile but carried on when it became obvious he wasn’t about to volunteer anything.
‘She also said that you would understand and have some sympathy for me’—sympathy was okay, it seemed, but not pity—‘and you’d work your butt off, as she put it, as a result.’
He found it hard to believe what she was saying, but it made some kind of sense. They’d told him he should be doing something worthwhile instead of snooping, but he’d never have expected this. Linda was still talking. He supposed it happened like that when you were a recluse—when you did get to meet someone, it all came pouring out, not to mention that some of your social graces might have slipped, like knowing when to stop.
‘She didn’t say anything more than that, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that you’ve lost someone too.’
Once again, his emotional world was turned upside down. He was here to help this woman with her problems, not the other way around. And it had to be kept strictly business-like, he couldn’t afford to get emotionally involved.
‘Yes, I have, but then so have a lot of people,’ he said a little too quickly. ‘I think what Guillory was getting at was that I expressed my own dissatisfaction with the police’s efforts fairly forcefully. In fact, I would have hit the other one, Ryder, if Guillory hadn’t stopped me. From what you’ve just told me, she probably thought we’d get on like a house on fire.’
She smiled at him, and Evan thought again how attractive she must have been before a double dose of tragedy invited itself into her life.
‘I think she’s probably right. And it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about what happened to you. It’s not why you’re here.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘It’s okay, really.’ She put a hand on his knee. ‘I’m sure you’ll tell me some other time.’
He coughed nervously and met her gaze. Guillory was right, he would work his butt off for this woman. The problem was going to be how to avoid getting too involved, especially now that she guessed some of his past.
She stood up and asked him if he wanted coffee, breaking the tension before it became awkward. He got up and followed her into the kitchen.
‘I don’t know how much you know already,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘but let me tell it to you from my point of view.’
She ran through the same story that Evan had heard from Faulkner up to the point concerning her husband.
‘Faulkner wants me to believe that Robbie was here at home when Daniel got back from school. That he killed our son for some unexplained reason and got rid of the body somehow. Then the cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch stayed here, living with me for a couple more weeks before making a run for it himself.’
The soft flush in her cheeks had turned a deeper red.
‘Like I wouldn’t notice if something was wrong; if he was hiding something. I knew my Robbie and I know he couldn’t have hurt Daniel if his life depended on it. And he couldn’t have fooled me either.’
She gave Evan a defiant look, challenging him to contradict her.
‘I’m sure he couldn’t, but the police say that Robbie’s alibi didn’t stand up. Nobody remembered him in the bar where he said he was.’
‘Alibis are for the police to worry about. They
’re the ones who get all antsy if they can’t check all the boxes and square everything away. I mean, it is just a paper exercise after all, isn’t it?’ She snorted contemptuously. ‘But I knew my husband and I know he couldn’t have done it.’
She looked down and was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the wedding ring she still wore on her finger. Evan thought she was deciding whether to tell him more. All she’d told him so far was that her Robbie couldn’t have done it because she said so.
‘Do you have a theory about his alibi?’ he prompted.
She looked up and Evan saw tears welling in her eyes.
‘It’s the oldest story in the world. I’ve never mentioned this to anyone else . . . but I’m almost certain he was seeing somebody else. That’s where I think he was, in some woman’s bed, not in a bar, and he didn’t want to tell that to the police.’
She swallowed thickly. Evan felt like a heel for pushing her. His voice came out hoarse when he asked his next question.
‘Did you say anything to him about it?’
‘You bet I did.’
The tears were gone as quickly as they’d appeared. He got the feeling it wouldn’t have been a conversation her husband enjoyed. At the same time, with her face flushed and the wetness still in her eyes, he couldn’t see why any man would want to look further.
‘What did I care if all the old gossips around here laughed at me behind my back? If it meant the police would believe him and keep looking for the bastard who really did it, then it would’ve been worth it.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He denied it all, of course. Stuck to his story, said he’d been in the bar the whole time and it wasn’t his fault if they all had a collective dose of amnesia. Said they were all too drunk to remember their own names, let alone his.’
‘But you didn’t believe him.’
‘Like I said, I knew my husband. I know he didn’t hurt our son and I’m also pretty certain he was seeing someone else. Men think they’re clever, that they can hide things like that, but they can’t.’
She caught him looking through the doorway into the lounge where the walls were covered with photographs of her errant husband.
‘So why are all those still on the wall?’ she said. ‘That’s what you’re thinking isn’t it?’
‘It crossed my mind,’ he admitted, ‘but then again, one lapse doesn’t mean a whole marriage is bad, does it?’
‘That’s the way I look at it. He’s a man, he can’t help himself.’
She laughed then but without any real humor. Evan laughed with her, despite being a man himself. He supposed it was quite funny, but only if you were sitting in the comfort of not being the injured party.
‘Why didn’t you say anything to the police?’
She shrugged.
‘What would’ve been the point? Robbie would have denied it and that would have been the end of it.’ She turned towards the kitchen countertop so that he couldn’t see her eyes. ‘He was obviously prepared to be considered a murder suspect in order to keep her name out of it. She must have been some woman.’
He felt an almost irresistible urge to put his hand on her shoulder, to comfort her. But it was inappropriate. He’d only met her five minutes ago. Somehow his hand didn’t seem to know that, rising inexorably towards her back.
He felt the bitterness overlying the layers of hurt, radiating off her like a heat haze in the desert. He wanted to ask her if Robbie had stopped seeing the other woman, or whether there was the possibility he had run off with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She must have asked herself the same things a million times. An idea he didn’t want to even think about came to him and he tried to push it away without success—what if Daniel had seen or caught the two of them together and they’d killed him in an attempt to keep him quiet? Had Linda thought the same thing over the years? It was a question he prayed he would never need to ask.
‘You know what the worst of it is?’
She suddenly, turned back to face him, catching him with his hand in mid-air. He ran it quickly through his hair, hoping she didn’t think he’d been glancing at his watch. Anger had replaced the hurt in her eyes.
‘It looks like it all came out anyway. Kate Guillory told me she’d heard rumors around town. Rumors which Faulkner must have heard too and which gave Robbie an alibi. But that was years later, just before he retired, and obviously he couldn’t be bothered to get up off his lazy butt and open it all up again.’ Her eyes challenged Evan to come to Faulkner’s defence, but that wasn’t a cause he was about to take up. ‘What did he care if I still felt like it was only yesterday. Guillory told me they had more than enough on their plates, what with budget cuts and all, to re-open an old case like that. It was only rumors after all, probably just old women’s idle tongues wagging.’
He imagined how she must have tortured herself over the years. It was bad enough that a crucial fact was buried for all the wrong reasons at the time, but for it to come out anyway later on must have been almost too much to bear. And to know that the police knew it too and were too busy or indifferent to take it up again—he was surprised she hadn’t gone crazy. He was even more surprised by what she said next.
‘There are some wicked people in the world, you know,’ she carried on. ‘Not just the monsters who abduct and kill children, but ordinary, everyday folk who like nothing better than to cut a person to shreds with their dirty tongues, to spice up their sorry, sad lives.’
She threw her head back and ran her hand through her hair, as if mimicking his gesture. He thought what a nice neck she had, the skin still smooth and firm like a woman half her age.
‘I’m told it’s been said that my Robbie might have run off with his whore because Daniel saw them together, so they killed him to keep it secret and then ran away together.’ The first tear was on her cheek now, making its way slowly down the side of her nose. ‘Will you tell me what kind of a sick person makes up something like that?’
He didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. Whoever had told her—Guillory presumably—didn’t have as much respect for her feelings as he did. No wonder she chose not to mix with people around town. Chose instead to hide herself away, refusing to listen to the rumormongers. But he knew only too well you couldn’t hide from yourself. In the small hours of the morning all your doubts and fears come to haunt you.
‘I’m sorry, it’s been building a long time,’ she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. ‘I don’t suppose you expected this when you knocked on the door.’
She gave him a small smile.
‘I’m not sure now what I expected, but this is probably more than I bargained for. Certainly more raw emotion anyway, but that’s fine.’
He smiled back at her, letting her know that he was Mr Emotional Sponge, the man with the inexhaustible capacity to absorb other people’s problems. But he needed to get it back on track.
‘Do you have any ideas about what might have happened?’ he said.
‘Plenty of things might have happened. As far as what actually did happen, I haven’t got the first idea. And there’s not a day gone by when I haven’t thought about it.’
‘Faulkner mentioned the teacher, Ray Clements.’
He managed to get Faulkner’s name out without starting her off again.
‘Ray Clements is a good man. As far as I’m concerned, he could no more have hurt Daniel than Robbie could. I know Faulkner hounded him before he had his epiphany regarding Robbie, but I never thought that was right either.’
It seemed to Evan that Linda managed to see the best in everyone—except Faulkner that is. He got the feeling that when they finally got around to whoever she thought was the prime suspect—and he was sure she had someone in mind—it was all going to come pouring out again. Perhaps she thought it was Faulkner, she certainly hated him enough.
‘He didn’t tell them he’d given Daniel a ride home. That must have looked like he had something to hide.’
&nbs
p; ‘If you’d seen what Faulkner was like back then, you wouldn’t have been volunteering any information.’ She snorted again. ‘He seems such a nice guy now and everyone feels so sorry for him because of his wife dying, but if he got you in his sights back then, you’d have had a very different opinion. Ask poor Ray Clements; he ruined his life.’
‘What makes you so sure Clements was innocent?
‘I can’t say. But just because I can’t prove why he didn’t do it, doesn’t mean he did. I thought we had a presumption of innocence in this country. Nobody seems to have told Faulkner.’
Evan agreed, but was getting the feeling that Linda’s reasoning was a little light on facts and biased more towards whether she liked you or not. It seemed you were just meant to accept what she told you.
‘The only reason Faulkner concentrated on him was because that low life Hendricks convinced him Daniel never left the campus. And Ray Clements was an easy target. Faulkner likes easy.’
He wondered if they’d finally got around to the point where she was going to let rip.
‘I get the feeling you don’t like Hendricks. You think he had something to do with it?’
He thought she was about to snort again, but she held it in this time.
‘You’re not kidding I don’t like him. He’s a really nasty piece of work. The best part of that man ran down the inside of his mother’s leg.’
The vitriol in her voice surprised him more than her language.
‘But just because I don’t like him, doesn’t mean I think he had anything to do with it. How could he have? He was driving a bus full of kids around at the time.’
She went suddenly quiet and twisted her wedding ring again. It didn’t take a genius to work out what she was thinking. If only she’d allowed Daniel to take the bus like all the other kids, none of this would have happened.
Sometimes it takes a while to get there, but in the end, we all end up blaming ourselves.
‘Hendricks might not have done it,’ she went on, ‘but I think it’s fair to say he enjoyed watching what happened to Ray Clements after he convinced Faulkner that Daniel never left the campus on foot.’
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 6
