Along Came a Demon by Linda Welch

Lawrence have any visitors? Did you see him with another adult besides his mother?” Royal asked.
    “ We allow visitors only with the permission of the parent, and it is generally related to the student’s education or Saint Mary Frances activities.”
    “ Did Lawrence have any as such?”
    Father Robert shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
    “ You do know Lawrence is missing?”
    “ So we were informed. We wondered if Lawrence saw his mother die and ran away.”
    I wondered the same thing. I wondered if the boy saw his mother’s murderer.
    “ We’d like to talk to his friends, with their parents’ permission of course. Could you give us names and addresses?”
    Father Robert’s gaze slipped past us, over our heads, as if studying the wainscoting. “I don’t know how to respond, Detective. Lawrence does not really have friends, not in the sense he has playmates.” His eyes half closed. “I would have to describe them more as … fans? Followers?”
    I glanced at Royal, but he stared at Father Robert. “I don’t get you, Father,” I said.
    “ Lawrence’s relationship with the other pupils at Saint Mary Frances is … unusual, in that he does not foster friendship with them, but they are nonetheless attracted to him. I have watched them at recess. They gather around him. I don’t think he understands it himself. He appears bemused by their attention.”
    “ Surely he’s just a popular child with his own little clique?”
    Father Robert smiled. “Believe me, I am not normally one to wax lyrical. Lawrence is a quiet, well-behaved, studious child, yet I feel he holds himself apart from everyone but his mother. Not as if he is better than anyone else, rather he is … removed from the mundane world.”
    That was deep and I didn’t know what to make of it.
    “ Then we would like names and addresses of his classmates, if it is no bother,” Royal said as if Father Robert had not just said something which sounded decidedly creepy.
    “ Of course not.” Father Robert took a ledger from a desk drawer and started to copy names and addresses on a sheet of foolscap.
    “ Do you have a photo?” I asked.
    He looked up, then groped through a pile of papers on his desk. “Lieutenant Warren said you would need one. Ah, here it is.”
    Royal and I looked at the photo. A standard school photo, but Lawrence was anything but standard. He was a beautiful child with long, shoulder-length, glossy brown hair and bright blue eyes, his face the same pointed shape as his mother’s. He didn’t smile in the photo, but his eyes seemed to glimmer. It must have been a trick of the light.

    I drove, since Royal didn’t have his own car. He claimed he had not found the time to shop for one. He could have taken one from the pool, but at least I would get mileage reimbursement.
    Money was a major issue for me. Laid off from Bermans, the telemarketing company I worked at for four years, I should have been job hunting, but I hadn’t had the time since Lindy turned up. With a fraction over five hundred dollars in savings and my checking account an embarrassment, I was thankful I owned my house, but the annual property taxes were due and up another hundred since last year. I needed to renegotiate my fee with Clarion PD.
    Royal flipped through Lindy’s file again. “An only child. Mother and father deceased. Her only living relative is an aunt in Chicago, who’s in her eighties.” He looked over at me. “The woman was all alone in the world. Do you know who fathered Lawrence?”
    The question surprised me. And what an odd way to phrase it: fathered . I took my eyes off the road a moment to glance over at him. “Is it important?”
    “ If Lawrence knows who his father is, he could be trying to reach him. Or, if he’s local, already be with him.”
    “ Hm. I never thought of that.” I stared at the road ahead. “But I’m not a detective.”
    I had a little difficulty with my driving if I didn’t concentrate. Royal’s