That little bomb earned a moment of dead silence.
“You’re saying she was pregnant? With Mr. Williams’s baby?” Allie couldn’t hide the shock and disbelief from her voice. She shot to her feet. Impossible. No way he would have done something like that. Mr. Williams may have been a lot of things but he—
Actually, Allie didn’t know any more. She paced over to them and said less certainly, “Okay, I could buy the possibility Tiffany was pregnant. That she transferred because she wanted to avoid the rumors—”
“Or wanted to save herself the humiliation of being expelled,” Meredith said smugly. “Come on, Al. Do you remember there ever being a pregnant student at St. Andrew’s?”
Come to think if it, she couldn’t. “That still doesn’t mean she was having an affair with Mr. Williams. What proof do you have?”
Meredith laughed. “I don’t have proof. Jesus, Al. We’re not at trial. But with cheerleading practice, I was frequently here pretty late with the rest of the squad. Jess, Mandy, and I all saw them together one night. In his classroom. Tiffany was crying, and he was hugging her. They looked pretty intimate to me. And within a month, she was gone. Problem solved for Mr. Williams.”
That scenario could have taken place for a hundred different reasons. There was no way that explanation could be true.
“When did all this take place?” Sam asked. He didn’t seem at all surprised or disturbed by the revelation. Still just getting the facts. It was his job, after all, she reminded herself.
“Let’s see…it was around Halloween. The night we saw them together, we were practicing for the last football game of the season. And when we returned to school after Christmas break, Tiffany was gone. Ironic considering Mr. Williams disappeared just a few months later.”
Allie exhaled, remembering why she’d wanted to speak with Meredith in the first place. And Tiffany didn’t start with an E. “Did you have any reason to believe Mr. Williams was seeing someone else, other than Tiffany?”
Meredith waved her hand. “Lord. I saw him flirting with so many different women, I couldn’t tell you who he actually dated. Let’s just say, Mr. Williams was a popular guy.”
“Anyone in particular?” Allie persisted.
“None that come to mind.” Knowing Meredith, Allie was certain if she had a name, she wouldn’t hesitate to drop it.
“Thanks for coming by today,” Sam said, rising to shut off the camera. “This has been very enlightening.”
“Don’t be so hasty, Sam.” Meredith fluttered her eyelashes. “A moment…outside?” She tilted her head in direction of the hall. Sam followed her.
He shut the door behind them, and the classroom was strangely silent.
Allie’s heart sank as she thought about her certainty that Mr. Williams couldn’t have done what Señora Sanchez had alleged—have an affair with a married woman.
She’d been wrong about that.
Could she be wrong again? Could there be some truth in Meredith’s claim?
Allie really didn’t want to believe it.
She remembered the day Jackson Williams had changed her life. Hours after hearing Meredith’s devastating news about her hook-up with Sam, Allie had been crying in the bathroom until school ended. When she was sure everyone was gone, she had headed to the Crimson Press room because she couldn’t make herself go home to face Peg and all her questions just yet. And that’s where she was, barely suppressing her sobs, when Mr. Williams had arrived.
Allie had been mortified to have him see her like that. But he had been so understanding. He hadn’t asked what troubled her, but just seemed to know. Looking back at it now with the eyes of an educator, he’d probably seen the wistfulness in her eyes whenever Sam came into the newsroom—the same wistfulness she saw in Darcy Sanders’s face whenever Bryce the quarterback walked into the room.
Mr. Williams had told Allie she was going to be an amazing woman, a beautiful woman, with a good heart that some lucky guy would discover. He said she was going to make a difference in people’s lives. And he’d even given her a small gift. A book of poems by Emily Dickenson. Poems she’d drawn strength from that year and every year since. She still had that book in her bottom desk drawer.
Could the kind, sensitive man who’d given a young, hurting girl all that comfort and support really have done the exact opposite for Tiffany? And been a home-wrecker, to boot?
It was impossible to fathom.
Sam opened the door and slipped back into the classroom. She shook off her musings. She needed to concentrate on facts, not emotions.
“What do you think?” she asked Sam.
“The observations Meredith described are believable. That she and two others saw Tiffany and Mr. Williams in his classroom. That Tiffany showed signs of pregnancy and left before people could guess. I do remember when she didn’t come back after Christmas. It was odd. We were graduating in the spring. Who leaves in the middle of their senior year? But whether Mr. Williams was the father…well. She’s probably the only one who can answer that.”
Allie agreed.
He strode over to her, took a seat, and leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked tired, his eyelids heavy. “How far do you want to go with this?”
She didn’t pretend that she didn’t know what he meant. It was one thing to conduct their unofficial investigation when it ran parallel with the video project. It was another to go out and search for answers, no longer under the pretense of using it for the video.
She sighed. “Do I want to talk to Tiffany? See if there’s any merit to the claim that she had an affair with her teacher?” It would add no value to her video. But she needed to know if the whole project that she’d been so obsessed with pursuing for these past weeks was a total sham.
Trying to preserve a memory of a man who might best be forgotten.
“Yeah. I think I do.”
He looked grim. “If it’s true, it could open up the list of suspects. A jealous boyfriend. An angry parent who confronted Mr. Williams for taking advantage of his or her little girl.”
“And don’t forget Mr. Williams’s married lover. Hell hath no fury and all that.” Still, she prayed none of it was true.
Sam nodded. “I’ll see if I can track her down. We knew some of the same people.”
“That works for me. My plate is going to be full for the next few days. It’s Vi’s birthday today,” she offered in explanation, “and I’ve promised to take her and three of her friends to the mall for a Build-A-Bear/Cheesecake Factory extravaganza. Actually”—she looked at the time—“I should probably get going. I need to pick them up from school.”
For the sake of her daughter and the wonderful afternoon she wanted to give her, Allie pushed all thoughts of Mr. Williams from her mind.
At least for tonight. Tomorrow, however, was a different story.
…
“How did Vi’s birthday go last night?” Sam asked her early Thursday morning, picking up the coffee carafe she’d just returned to the hot plate.
“Since all the girls pronounced the Build-a-Bear and Cheesecake Factory combo ‘the best birthday ev-ah’, I’d say it was a success.” She poured a healthy serving of salted caramel latte creamer into her mug and stirred as he watched with something close to horror in his expression. At the bears or the creamer, she wasn’t quite sure.
He followed her over to an empty corner table, and they sat down. “Anything out of the ordinary happen?”
She unsuccessfully tried to suppress a yawn and answered, “Not like you mean it. Just the usual stuff.”
“I found Tiffany.”
That jarred her awake. “Whoa. You must have some remarkable connections to have found her so quickly.”
“Not really. I just took a page from you and sent her a friend request on Facebook. She accepted.”
“Ah, the miracle of social media.”
“She still lives here. Out in Cottonwood Heights. Her last name is Fulmer now.”
“Don’t tell me. You’ve
already tracked down her address?”
He grinned. “That, and I may have asked her if I could stop by today after school to talk about something I’m working on.”
“Now I am impressed.” She smiled and sipped her coffee.
“Care to join me?”
It was Friday. Ryan was picking Vi up from school, and he would have her until the party on Sunday. So Allie was free. She hoped it didn’t show how boring her life was that she had no plans for the weekend.
She pretended to consider it. “Hmm. Yeah, I’d like that.”
And the pathetic part was, she really would.
Chapter Fourteen
Tiffany Sawyer Fulmer had done pretty well for herself. Her house was something right out of Better Homes and Gardens. Located in an affluent neighborhood, surrounded by equally picturesque homes, not a toy or errant weed was visible on any of the landscaped lawns.
When Tiffany opened the door, she was warm and effusive in her greeting and invited them in. Allie couldn’t help but feel guilty about the invasive questions they were about to ask.
From the pictures that graced her walls, Allie could see Tiffany was married, with what looked like, at least in some of the photos, three kids. She had an ageless quality about her. The photos could have been taken last week or ten years ago. Although Allie knew she had to be around Sam’s age, she looked a lot younger. Would she have been the type Mr. Williams would have risked his career to be with? Back in high school, Tiffany had been gorgeous—Allie had stayed up late to check out the dozens of pictures of her that filled their high school yearbook. The number of photos hadn’t surprised her, but the activities—aside from cheerleading—Tiffany had participated in was a surprise. Such as the yearbook staff and debate team. Which told her Tiffany wasn’t just a social climbing, superficial beauty like Meredith, but was someone of intelligence. If Mr. Williams had engaged in such a relationship, he at least had good taste.
Allie wasn’t sure if that made her feel any better.
Sam introduced Allie and described the committee she was working with.
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you, Sam. Glad to see you made a name for yourself. You always knew what you wanted.”
“You didn’t do so bad yourself.” He looked around the brightly lit room with appreciation.
“I can’t take all the credit. I’m an occupational therapist, but I’m only part time these days. My husband, Kevin, is an anesthesiologist up at University Hospital. By the way, Sam,” she added quietly. “I heard about your mother. How is she doing?”
What about his mother? Allie sat up and pinned her gaze on Sam, who pretended not to notice.
“She’s doing as well as can be expected. Thanks.”
He didn’t volunteer more, and after a careful glance at Allie, Tiffany didn’t pursue the conversation further. “So what was it you wanted to ask me about? If you’re looking for a donation, you could have just called.” She smiled.
Sam’s face grew serious. “Actually, Tiffany, I’m afraid it’s something of a more personal nature.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sure you’re aware they discovered Mr. Williams’s remains at the school recently?”
Tiffany nodded, but as far as Allie could tell, didn’t look overly distressed, only…sad. “Yeah. That’s so awful. Who’d have thought, huh?”
“Well, Allie is hoping to put together a short memorial video to honor him. Something to show during the centennial gala. It’s just that—” He shifted in his chair. “Some rather sensitive information has come to light, and before we passed it on to the police, we wanted to make sure it’s relevant.”
Tiffany nodded as though she understood, but her brow furrowed slightly. “It’s horrifying to think he could have been killed and left there all these years. Have you heard anything more? Do the police have any idea who did it?”
“Not that they’re telling us.” He cleared his throat. “And a few roadblocks have been thrown our way.” He briefly explained the details of the fire, the car vandalism, and the fact they had nothing left to put together for the video until Allie had started filming the interviews.
Tiffany nodded sympathetically. “I understand. I’m happy to help.”
“As I said, some things have come to light, and there was some mention of you. Tiff, there have been rumors. Rumors that the reason you left St. Andrew’s was because you were pregnant.”
She looked stunned. Then her eyes flooded with tears. “Where did you hear that?”
“Is it true?” he asked softly.
“It was something I only spoke about with a few people in strict confidence. If someone is going around and bringing this up again—” She was getting worked up, her gaze flicking back and forth between Allie and Sam.
“I got the impression they didn’t hear it from you, but from their own personal observations,” he said, chivalrously trying to deflect attention from Meredith. “I gather there were signs that couldn’t be overlooked. I’m assuming by your reaction it was true?”
Tiffany took some deep breaths, focusing her attention on the carpet at her feet. “If I tell you, I want to know what you’re going to do with it. Why this information is necessary. And why the police. This is very private, and my kids—” She broke off, her hand to her mouth. “I told Kevin, of course. But since I gave the baby up for adoption, I thought it would be too painful for the kids to know.”
“We only need to know one thing. Was the baby Mr. Williams’s?”
Tiffany stood abruptly. Her whole demeanor changed. A rigid mask slipped over her face, and she gained control of herself.
“Sam. I don’t know why this is coming up now, or why you would think we were ever close enough that I would share such intimate details of my life. I’d like you both to go now.”
Neither of them tried to object. Allie didn’t know how Sam was feeling, but she felt like she needed a shower. The bright, warm sun that greeted them didn’t seem appropriate for the mood she was in as they walked to the car. The door shut firmly behind them, although Allie was certain Tiffany was watching their progress to the car.
“She didn’t exactly deny it, did she?” Allie said when they pulled out of the neighborhood.
“No. I might try to contact her again. But not just yet. Maybe in a couple of days. See if she’ll talk with me alone.”
“No, just leave it. I don’t think she had anything to do with Mr. Williams’s murder.”
“How could you possibly say that? You just admitted she hadn’t exactly denied the possibility she and Mr. Williams had been an item, or that he was the father.”
“Think about it. If it were true, she would have been very pregnant and very scared at the time he disappeared. How would she have dumped his body? Or driven his car without help? And why kill him to begin with?”
“True.”
“I just don’t think that would have been the act of a terrified, pregnant teen. Besides, the woman I just met, if she knew someone was in any way responsible for his death, she would have come forward to the police long ago and let them know her concerns.”
He exhaled. “I think you’re being naïve. It’s like you told me before, when you were afraid to admit there was a connection between the fire and the discovery of the body. Good people don’t want to accept the worst of others. Even if Tiffany suspected someone she knew might had done it, she probably would dismiss the possibility out of hand. No one wants to believe someone they know and like could be so coldblooded.”
“I’m not naïve,” Allie said, bristling at his comment. But his gaze remained on the road. “We’re overlooking the obvious. We should identify the woman who wrote those letters. She’s the connection. And if ‘E’ didn’t do it, she might lead us to whoever did. Such as the jealous husband?”
“She didn’t do it,” Sam said so forcefully it left Allie stunned. He looked away, and they both saw the light had changed to red. He slammed hard on the brakes, and she grabbed the dash to steel herself.
<
br /> Then she realized exactly what he’d said. And the implications. “She, who, Sam? Who is ‘E’?” A cold prickling crept up her spine.
He wiped his hand over his face. He sounded more tired, resigned, when he said almost pleadingly, “Allie, can’t you just trust me here? Please believe me, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
She studied him carefully. It only took her a second for it all to come together. The knowing look Señora Sanchez had given him when she’d talked about the affair. An affair with a married woman with a kid who was a student at St. Andrew’s. And Allie remembered seeing Mrs. Fratto—Elizabeth Fratto—at every soccer game that Sam had played in. She’d thought, at the time, it was just her being a devoted parent, especially since Sam’s dad never showed up to stuff like that—he’d always been too busy. But maybe Mrs. Fratto had been there to see a lot more than Sam play soccer…
Maybe to stay connected to a secret lover?
Allie recalled Sam saying his parent’s marriage had been a lie. And his reaction when she’d wanted to turn the letters in to the police, how moody and distant he’d become. Had he mentioned finding the letters to his mother that night? And then had Elizabeth Fratto, desperate to keep up the pretense of her life, come to destroy them, knocking out Allie in the process? But she hadn’t found the letters. She must realize they were with the police now.
“Your mother wrote those letters, didn’t she?” Allie said. It sounded like an accusation, but it was meant to. He’d been withholding this from her. Something so vital.
“Yeah. I think so.” He sighed heavily. “I mean, I didn’t have the letters to compare with, but it definitely looked like her writing.”
Anger coursed through Allie. Along with something else. Disappointment, maybe? After she’d shared everything with him—including her previous crush. But he hadn’t shown her the same trust. Not even close. “You were willing to protect her identity, even at the risk of my safety?”
You Again Page 16
