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Authors: Susan Cory

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“These things never happen at my Yale reunions. Okay, okay, have you said anything to the police?”

“ Just
that Will never showed up.”

“Don’t say anything else. Is it the new station in Kendall Square? I’ll drive in now.”

Iris felt relief at having her brother come to her aid. No one messed with
Stirling
Reid. He was her only immediate family, so she put up with his pomposity. For once, it might work in her favor.

After
Stirling
agreed to drive in from Concord, Ellie and Mack, statements signed, went home.

She sat in the tiny interview room with Detective Connors, the second-in-command. It must feel pretty crowded in here when two detectives, a sweating
perp
and a lawyer were all jammed in together.

Her eyes kept going to the one-way glass. Were there people on the other side watching her every twitch?

“Nice building,” she said to Detective Connors to break the silence.

“We just moved over here from Central Square last month. We’re still getting used to it.” He was consulting his laptop, probably checking her criminal history. He scowled.
Had he discovered that “failure to stop” citation from last year?
With his bald head and thick neck he resembled a sleek seal, she thought.

Ten minutes later, her big brother and Detective Malone bustled in and placed themselves on opposite sides of the table.
Stirling
was wearing a suit and wingtips, as if this were how he always dressed for a Friday evening at home. Maybe it was.
Stirling
nodded loftily to Detective Malone to begin, and Detective Connors flipped on a wall switch to start the recorder, noting all present.

“Ms. Reid, did you ever call Mr. Reynolds on his cell phone?”

“No, I never called him at all. He called me…”

“Just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Iris,”
Stirling
interrupted.

“Did you know what flight he would be on?”

“No.”

“How had you planned to meet up?”

She looked at
Stirling
, wondering how she was supposed to answer that one with a “yes” or “no.” He gave her a nod.

“He said that he’d stop by Mr.
Meeker’s
house in Lincoln in the afternoon because I’d said I would be out there getting things ready for tonight’s dinner. Norman had sent out maps showing how to get there. I guess that he was planning to rent a car.”

“Don’t speculate, Iris,”
Stirling
jumped in.

“What was this meeting supposed to be about?”

Her mind went blank. Why
had
Will wanted to meet with her privately? “I don’t know. There wasn’t really any agenda. We had dated 20 years ago,
then
gone our separate ways. I guess Will just wanted to chat before the reunion.”

“I understand that it was more serious than just dating. Weren’t you two living together during that last year of school? How would you characterize the way things had been left between you and Mr. Reynolds after school ended?”

Iris felt her face
flush.”We
had decided to break up. The relationship wasn’t working out.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Detective, is this ancient history relevant?”
Stirling
interjected.

“Yes, Counselor, it is. Ms. Reid?”

“We broke up because Will wasn’t faithful. I felt that I couldn’t trust him.”

Shit. Who had Detective Malone been talking to? Who had made her out to be the vengeful, wronged ex-girlfriend?

“What were you doing from eleven this morning until the dinner tonight?”

She thought for a few minutes then ran through her schedule as Detective Connors took notes. When she got to “then I took my dog for a walk at Fresh Pond,” the temperature in the room seemed to chill ten degrees.

“Hold on right there. What time was this?”

“Around 1:30 I guess.” Iris chewed on her fingernail as
Stirling
wrote furiously on his legal pad,
then
underlined something twice.

“What paths did you take at Fresh Pond?”

“We took the main loop around the reservoir. We walk there every afternoon.”

“Iris, just answer the question. Nothing more,”
Stirling
admonished her.

“Did you go off that main path at all?” Malone twirled a pen, trying to sound casual.

“No.”

“Okay. Continue with your time-line.”

“I got home at around three, read my mail and spoke on the phone with my friend Ellie
Mckenzie
for about 20 minutes.” She proceeded with listing her actions right up to “I drove back to Lincoln at six for the dinner.”

Then
Stirling
asked “Lieutenant, other than a relationship that ended two decades ago and a request for my client to meet him, is there anything else that ties William Reynolds to her?”

“As you know, Counselor, we’re not here to answer your questions. But since it will be on the news tonight, I guess that I can tell you that Mr. Reynolds’ body was found along a path at Fresh Pond. The time of death has been estimated to be between noon and three, right when Ms. Reid just admitted to being in the area.”

Iris made a strangled sound. She could visualize the scene all too well. This was not how she had imagined getting to closure with Will. She might actually have been nearby when Will died. Why had he been there? This didn’t make any sense.

“Are you saying that Will was murdered?”

“I can’t comment on an active investigation, Ms. Reid.”

When Detective Malone next tried to hustle Iris down to the morgue to identify the body,
Stirling
raised himself to his full height and announced that, as Iris was not a Reynolds family member, she was under no obligation to go through that stress. He was advising her not to do so, reminding the Detective that Iris had come there voluntarily to answer their questions.

Malone knew when he was facing a brick wall and settled for a signature on her sworn statement, finishing up with the
cliche
not to leave town.

Outside at the curb she turned to her brother and moaned, “
Stirling
, this can’t be happening. Why would anyone want Will dead? The police can’t possibly believe that I killed him, can they?”

“Iris, listen carefully. You’ve admitted that Will screwed around on you when you were together, giving you a possible motive to want him dead. You’ve admitted that you had a plan to meet him this afternoon. You’ve admitted to being in the area where his body was found around the time of death. Of course he was murdered. Of course you’re a serious suspect. You have motive and opportunity. All they need is means. Still, stewing over an ex-boyfriend’s sins for 20 years seems far-fetched, and we don’t know what method was actually used. But if one more connection turns up between you and Will, there could be enough circumstantial evidence to get you arrested. You can only hope that a more likely suspect turns up. As a side note, being seen as a murder suspect could be very bad for your business, not to mention your reputation. Or mine, for that matter.”

Stirling
beeped
open
his car. “You have your Jeep here, right?”

For some reason she answered, “Uh huh.”

Chapter 12

I
ris hobbled up Upland Road from the T stop, entered the sanctuary of her house, and peeled off her heels to examine her new blisters. Sheba padded over and licked her face sympathetically. After Iris poured herself a glass of sauvignon
blanc
, she heaved herself onto the sofa, and flicked the TV remote to the 11 o’clock news. Will’s death was the lead story. A
pedi
-cab driver had discovered the body on a path near the Neville Manor Assisted Living Home, located within the boundaries of the Fresh Pond Reservation. A well-groomed reporter, looking solemn and tense with faux concern, stated that the cause of death had yet to be determined. Iris could see shadowy forms moving around inside the police tent in the background. Thank God the reporter didn’t speculate about suspects or persons of interest.

***

On Saturday morning Ellie and Mack bustled in through the kitchen door, pausing to pet Sheba who had scrambled up out of her spot inside the kitchen fireplace to greet them. The dog trailed them to the breakfast table in the sunny bay window and laid her silky snout on Iris’ knee
, rolling her eyes meaningfully—but without real hope—
in the direction of Mack’s bakery bag.

“Are you okay, Iris?” Mack asked. “I guess you two weren’t exaggerating about this crowd being dangerous.” Tempting aromas wafted from the bag he set on the table.

“How are you holding up,
darlin
’?” Ellie hugged her. “Did
Stirling
get the police to leave you alone?”

Iris leaned her head on her hands. “This is a complete nightmare but at least they haven’t Mirandized me yet. I feel like a magnet for dead bodies. My brother-the-lawyer says that if one more thing turns up incriminating me, the police might arrest me for murder.”


You
?
Oh come on! No one could possibly think that
you
had anything to do with Will’s death,” Ellie said.

Mack cut in. “Does this mean it was definitely murder? Are the police sure that he didn’t just stop at Fresh Pond to stretch his legs,
then
keel over from a heart attack? Maybe he got a blood clot from the long flight.” He arranged peach muffins on one of the square plates Iris had set out.

“They wouldn’t tell us how he died, but they were grilling me about my
movements
yesterday afternoon, so I doubt that his death looked like an accident. The awful part is that I was walking Sheba right there at around the time he died.”

“You’re kidding! He died near where you walk? Did you hear anything?” Ellie asked while bringing over the French press of coffee.

“It said on the news that it happened on a path up by the nursing home. That’s too far off for me to have heard anything. But if I
had
made arrangements to meet him there, I suppose I could have slipped away from the dog-walking path to polish him off.”

“And Sheba would have been a witness.” The dog looked up at Ellie eagerly.
“What about it, girl?
Did Iris kill the old boyfriend?”

“This sounds like someone’s trying to set you up, Iris. How many people know you walk your dog there every afternoon?” Mack asked as he lifted a chunk of muffin to his mouth.

“I’ve been thinking about that. Anyone who
googled
me would find
the Cambridge Chronicle
article about my work on the Fresh Pond advisory committee. I said in the interview that I walk my dog there every afternoon.”

“So, it could have been anyone,” Mack said.

“Well, anyone who knew of the relationship between Iris and Will, anyone who knew that Will was going to be here this weekend, anyone Will trusted enough to agree to meet with,” Ellie pointed out.

“In other words, someone at the dinner last night,” Iris said.

There was silence as they finished up the last muffin crumbs. Sheba sighed heavily and flopped back down in her fireplace den.

Finally Mack said “I may have collected a clue last night about Carey’s death.”

“You didn’t tell me this!” Ellie said.

“I was waiting for our debriefing session.”

“What is that—
Hardy Boys etiquette 101?”

“There were only two of them. They didn’t need to wait.”

“Enough you two—
WHAT
IS
THE CLUE?”

“After the police came, G.B. got up and moved to your seat, Iris, next to Jerry. When Detective Connors announced that Will’s dead body had been found, I heard Jerry whisper to G.B. “It’s payback from Carey for the brownie.” Mack beamed at them expectantly.

“What? Are you sure that you got that right— the brownie?”

Iris’ expressi
on took on a vacant look. “Wait—a—minute. Wait—
a—minute. I think I may know what he’s referring to. At the graduation party, I remember Will offering Carey a brownie from the refreshment table.” She
squinched
her eyes and tried to remember the scene. “Damn, that must’ve been how the drugs got into Carey’s system.
But why?
Why would Will want to get Carey high?”

They stared at each other as the wheels turned, then all three spoke at once:

“Will must’ve wanted him to make a fool of himself after showing everyone up for three endless years.”

“If Jerry knew about it, I wonder if any more of them were in on the joke.”

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