The last time he’d been on a case, I’d been attracted to how calm, cool, and collected he’d seemed.
This one was making him a wreck.
Then I realized. He also thought of Corey Johnson as family. I’d bet my Fiskars Personal Paper Trimmer on it. This new insight warmed me to him all over again. What a good man he was. At the core, decent and loyal.
Except, if that were true, why did he kiss me? Come visit me? When he was married?
I rubbed my eyes hard. “Allergies,” I mumbled. “What’s the department’s response to Corey getting out?”
“What you’d expect. The captain admits we don’t have a lot. Chief Holmes is keeping up a PR front. Sorry. I can’t tell you more.”
I shrugged. I’d sort of expected as much. “I’ll tell you what I heard at book club, but what else can I do? Anything? I’m flying blind here.”
He repeated how Sissy had dropped her son Christopher off at kindergarten at roughly nine-thirty, and her first class didn’t start that particular day until eleven a.m. CALA used a rotating class schedule designed to compensate for the many Mondays that are national holidays. The students adjusted to its quirks quickly, but to me and most parents, it was difficult to keep track.
Corey Johnson hadn’t verified his whereabouts for the suspicious timeframe. Detweiler said the man seemed too distraught to think clearly. None of the teachers stepped forward to say they’d seen the coach. So he had no alibi.
“Lots of people had keys to the balcony. Anyone walking the hall—as Anya and her friends did—could have slipped in and out. The amount of blood spatter was minimal, our forensics examiner says. We thought about searching nearby lockers, but that would take a court order,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “There’s that sports booster meeting. We’re working our way through a makeshift list of attendees, but folks aren’t being helpful.”
Our meal was ready at the window. Detweiler hopped up to get it. He slid my red basket with the kid’s meal—a hot dog and fries—toward me. “They’re all out of toys.”
Well, shoot. Now my day was totally ruined.
“Start with the book club.” He bit into the first of his two smoked bratwursts. The man had a half pound of pork and veal to plow through, plus a generous helping of fries.
I listed the names I’d heard. I explained about Stevie Moore.
Detweiler’s eyes clouded with concern. “But maybe Stevie didn’t do it and his mother did. To keep his, um, preferences quiet.”
I couldn’t believe that of Jennifer. I realized, too, that since Anya was spending a lot of time at the Moores’ house, I really needed to know the family better.
I wished Anya hung around more with Tilly, but I couldn’t force a friendship on my daughter. I’d tried that before and it had backfired. Anya had bitten the other preschooler during a playdate.
“You know the headmaster’s wife? Connie McMahan? Heard she was ticked at her hubby because of Sissy. We don’t know the details, but a secretary reported a heated discussion between the McMahans the day before Ms. Gilchrist was killed. A Ladue cop interviewed Mrs. McMahan, with the school’s attorney. Didn’t get much.” His voice lowered. “Could she be the one we’re looking for?”
“I know Connie a little. I can’t see her doing it.”
“Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that. No one saw her the morning of the murder. But she could have slipped in and out. The headmaster’s house is on the school grounds.”
“She’d’ve had to walk past the construction workers.”
“Right. We’re talking to the union workers. Breaks are part of their contract.”
Connie had left the book club rather quickly. If memory served me correctly, later today Connie would be planting flowers in preparation for homecoming celebrations. Even though CALA employed a fleet of gardeners, it was a tradition for the women of the school to plant mums along the winding driveway to
This one was making him a wreck.
Then I realized. He also thought of Corey Johnson as family. I’d bet my Fiskars Personal Paper Trimmer on it. This new insight warmed me to him all over again. What a good man he was. At the core, decent and loyal.
Except, if that were true, why did he kiss me? Come visit me? When he was married?
I rubbed my eyes hard. “Allergies,” I mumbled. “What’s the department’s response to Corey getting out?”
“What you’d expect. The captain admits we don’t have a lot. Chief Holmes is keeping up a PR front. Sorry. I can’t tell you more.”
I shrugged. I’d sort of expected as much. “I’ll tell you what I heard at book club, but what else can I do? Anything? I’m flying blind here.”
He repeated how Sissy had dropped her son Christopher off at kindergarten at roughly nine-thirty, and her first class didn’t start that particular day until eleven a.m. CALA used a rotating class schedule designed to compensate for the many Mondays that are national holidays. The students adjusted to its quirks quickly, but to me and most parents, it was difficult to keep track.
Corey Johnson hadn’t verified his whereabouts for the suspicious timeframe. Detweiler said the man seemed too distraught to think clearly. None of the teachers stepped forward to say they’d seen the coach. So he had no alibi.
“Lots of people had keys to the balcony. Anyone walking the hall—as Anya and her friends did—could have slipped in and out. The amount of blood spatter was minimal, our forensics examiner says. We thought about searching nearby lockers, but that would take a court order,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “There’s that sports booster meeting. We’re working our way through a makeshift list of attendees, but folks aren’t being helpful.”
Our meal was ready at the window. Detweiler hopped up to get it. He slid my red basket with the kid’s meal—a hot dog and fries—toward me. “They’re all out of toys.”
Well, shoot. Now my day was totally ruined.
“Start with the book club.” He bit into the first of his two smoked bratwursts. The man had a half pound of pork and veal to plow through, plus a generous helping of fries.
I listed the names I’d heard. I explained about Stevie Moore.
Detweiler’s eyes clouded with concern. “But maybe Stevie didn’t do it and his mother did. To keep his, um, preferences quiet.”
I couldn’t believe that of Jennifer. I realized, too, that since Anya was spending a lot of time at the Moores’ house, I really needed to know the family better.
I wished Anya hung around more with Tilly, but I couldn’t force a friendship on my daughter. I’d tried that before and it had backfired. Anya had bitten the other preschooler during a playdate.
“You know the headmaster’s wife? Connie McMahan? Heard she was ticked at her hubby because of Sissy. We don’t know the details, but a secretary reported a heated discussion between the McMahans the day before Ms. Gilchrist was killed. A Ladue cop interviewed Mrs. McMahan, with the school’s attorney. Didn’t get much.” His voice lowered. “Could she be the one we’re looking for?”
“I know Connie a little. I can’t see her doing it.”
“Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that. No one saw her the morning of the murder. But she could have slipped in and out. The headmaster’s house is on the school grounds.”
“She’d’ve had to walk past the construction workers.”
“Right. We’re talking to the union workers. Breaks are part of their contract.”
Connie had left the book club rather quickly. If memory served me correctly, later today Connie would be planting flowers in preparation for homecoming celebrations. Even though CALA employed a fleet of gardeners, it was a tradition for the women of the school to plant mums along the winding driveway to
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