Missing Pieces by Heather Gudenkauf Page B

in a cornfield, but there was no sign of John Tierney. There was even a statewide manhunt. It was as if he just disappeared off the face of the earth.”
    â€œBut why?” Sarah asked, wanting more details. “Why did he do it?”
    â€œThat’s the million-dollar question,” Margaret said, tapping one manicured nail against the table to emphasize her point. “No one was sure why John would kill Lydia. They were a nice couple. I never saw any problems between them and I babysat for them for years.”
    â€œBut what do you think?” Sarah pressed. “Do you think he did it?”
    Margaret shrugged. “It sure looks that way. Why else would he have run away? Besides, you know small towns. Everyone had a theory as to why he would have killed her. Lydia was having an affair, John was having affair, they were having money problems.”
    â€œSo that’s it?” Sarah asked. “Case closed?” This made Sarah immeasurably sad and even more bewildered by Jack’s secrecy. Why did he feel as though he needed to make up some big story about his parents dying in a car accident? Did he think she was too fragile and couldn’t handle the truth? Did he think she would judge him, not want to marry him because his father was a murderer?
    â€œWell, not officially closed. They never made an arrest. What little evidence they had pointed to John Tierney. But they did check out other suspects—vagrants in the area, an escapee from a work-release program in Cedar City. And, if you can believe it—” Margaret leaned in even closer toward Sarah and whispered “—Jack was even the top suspect for a time.”
    â€œJack?” Sarah asked. Jack was the last person in the world she could imagine as a murder suspect. She thought about how loving he was with the girls, how gentle he was with his physical therapy patients. It made absolutely no sense. “Why would Jack be a suspect?”
    Seeing the stricken look on Sarah’s face, Margaret backpedaled. “No, no. He was the one who found her. The person who finds the victim is always a suspect.” All of Margaret’s earlier relish in sharing the details of Penny Gate’s most famous murder had disappeared. “I really didn’t mean to upset you. Of course I don’t think Jack murdered his mother. That’s ridiculous. Now I wish I hadn’t said anything.”
    â€œNo, no,” Sarah said, trying to muster an encouraging smile. “I really appreciate that you would even talk to me. I want to know what happened. I need to know,” she added with force.
    Margaret glanced down at her watch wistfully. “I do have to get to work. I wish we could talk more, though. I have so many great stories about Jack and Amy growing up.”
    â€œI’d love to hear more about Jack and Amy as kids, and I’m sure Jack would get a kick out of seeing his babysitter again,” Sarah said, though she wasn’t quite sure if this was true. It seemed that Jack had done everything in his power to avoid reminders of his past.
    â€œI’m so sorry to hear about Julia.” Margaret jotted a phone number on a napkin and slid it to Sarah. “Call me or just stop by the sheriff’s department.” Sarah watched as Margaret paused to greet the other café patrons on the way out the door, her buoyant laughter echoing through the room.
    Sarah lingered over her coffee, not wanting to return to Dean and Celia’s home. She couldn’t face Jack, who now seemed like a complete stranger to her. And she didn’t want to take part in idle chitchat with Dean and Celia after seeing their violent encounter.
    Sarah’s phone vibrated and reluctantly she answered.
    â€œSarah,” Jack said. His once-familiar voice now seemed different, laced with worry. “We still haven’t been able to get ahold of Amy and I’m starting to get worried. How close are you to coming