In the Shadows (The Outsiders Book 1) (28 page)

“Not well. He’s
a strange man, but funny. I liked talking with him. Why do you ask?”

“What was his relationship with the
Raybourne family? He seems to know a lot about their lives. Is that just from watching them?”

“Well, as I recall, he and the
Raybournes moved into the neighborhood around the same time, about four or five years ago. Jared would have been about eleven or twelve then. Ian told me he would sometimes check in on Jared while Peter and Elizabeth went out for the evening. He always seemed to need to help, wanted to be part of things. Apparently, back then he and Jared got along.”

“But not later?”

“Not so much, I guess.”

“Did Elizabeth and Ian get along?”

“I think so. I remember one time, this was shortly after I moved in, Elizabeth was sick. She’d had her appendix removed. Ian came over and cooked for her. He was like that, always willing to help out if he could. He was a really good neighbor.”

“Did you ever hear Elizabeth and Jared quarrel?”

“Yes, several times, but I tried to stay out of it.”

“Do you know what they fought about?”

“Everything. At least it seemed that way. It’s not unusual for kids that age to push boundaries, so I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

Silence followed.
She could hear Dave breathing. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Instead of answering her, Dave asked,
“What can you tell me about Rob Carsters?”

“Rob? Why do you ask about him? There’s nothing really to tell.”

He sighed loudly enough that she could hear, and her heart sank.

“Why didn’t you tell me you dated him and that you two worked together?”

Becoming ever more anxious, she stammered, “I—I didn’t think it was important.”

“Another thing
. You told me you were tutoring Jared, but people here are saying it’s not true.”

“
Dave, it’s true. Why would they say that?”

“Good question.”

Maurelle hesitated. Unsure what to say, she asked, “What are you thinking, Dave?”

“We’re
still looking at all angles. It’s a tough case. I wish I could tell you we’ve ruled you out as a suspect, but I can’t. I should hang up now. The longer we talk on the phone, the riskier it is for both of us. You shouldn’t call again unless it’s really an emergency.”

After she hung up
, feeling devastated Maurelle sobbed and put her hands over her face, wishing she hadn’t made the phone call. Everything seemed to be closing in on her again.

Sitting on the
edge of the bed, Dave hung up the phone, groaned, and hung his head. He’d wanted to talk to Maurelle badly ever since he’d left France, and apparently he had succeeded. He’d
wanted to give her good news, but she had caught him off guard, and the news about Grand-mère had upset him. The phone call left him feeling depressed and doubtful. Nothing she’d told him so far and none of the leads he had followed up on had given him what he needed to prove her innocence. Was he still playing the fool, letting himself be duped again? Was this like the Diana Lewis case all over again? He wanted to believe she’d called because of his grandmother, but what if that was just an excuse to find out what he’d found and to see if she needed to run again. There was also another darker thought that he didn’t like to consider: Was Fabienne safe with Maurelle?

He eventually drifted back to sleep, but
he awoke upset and more tired than before he’d gone to bed. All through the night he’d dreamt of his grandmother—lying in the hospital after suffering a major heart attack. In one dream the heart monitor had straight-lined. He’d dreamt of Maurelle, first rescuing his grandmother but in a later dream, causing her heart attack.

After
showering and dressing, he dragged himself down the hotel hall to the staircase. He desperately needed coffee and something to eat. Kate would be picking him up outside the café across the street at nine o’clock, so he decided he might as well eat and wait in the café.

At the top of the staircase he caught sight of a red-headed man in a suit
, walking up the stairs with his head bent. He seemed to be reading something in a folded-up newspaper as he walked. Dave mused that it didn’t seem to be the smartest thing to do, but something about the man also seemed familiar. Dave took a step down, and at the same moment the man looked up. It was Greg’s detective friend, Nigel James.

Startled,
Dave stopped, grabbed the railing, and waited.

When Nigel reached the top of the stairs, he said, “We need to talk. I didn’t want to do this over the telephone. Greg called me from this hotel on his first night in London
and told me you were staying here, too. I took a chance you’d still be here.”

Dave nodded
and turned around. Nigel followed him to the hotel room. Inside, Dave sat on the edge of the bed and motioned to the chair and table nearby.

Nigel pulled the chair around, sat down
, and crossed his legs, obviously appraising Dave in the way detectives do before they interrogate a witness or a suspect. Dave steeled himself.

“I know you’ve met Maura Barrington,” Nigel said.

“You’re making a pretty big assumption.”

“It’s not an assumption. The Met have been notified by the French. Since I’ve taken an unofficial interest, I heard of this.”

“The Met was notified of what?”

“
They said someone in Reynier called the gendarmes about a mysterious woman who was being harbored by an elderly woman and her grandson. Sound familiar?”

Dave shrugged.

“The elderly woman, your grandmother I’ve been told, has disappeared and may have been taken hostage by the woman. The gendarmes, and now the Met, believe the woman is Maura Barrington. I’m afraid it all makes perfect sense to me now, considering your interest in the case.”

Dave looked at the clock near the television. Kate would be at the café in thirty minutes.

“I want to know how you are involved. What do you know about this woman?”

“
Look, I met her in Reynier. She was living in a cave. I invited her to stay in my grandmother’s home and then found out she was running from the law here. She told me about Jared and tentatively convinced me of her innocence. I really don’t know much more than you do. I came here to get answers. That’s all.”

Nigel put his fingers together steepled near his chin and looked directly at Dave. “You must realize that if Maura Barrington did murder Jared Raybourne, she may be dangerous. You may be putting others, your grandmother included, at risk. She could kill again if she feels threatened.”

“I don’t believe that. She wouldn’t hurt my grandmother.” Dave pushed the memory of his nightmare out of his mind.

“I hope you’re right. As I understand it, the French police are narrowing in on her location. They’ll make an arrest soon. My fear is that if Ms. Barrington finds out before they get there, she might do something drastic. If you’re in contact with her, I need to know.”

“I’m not.”

“You never answered my other question. How are you involved?”

“I came here to solve the Jared Raybourne case. I figured that I’d either prove her innocent, in which case she would be free, or I’ll prove her guilty and turn her over to the police.”

“Then you know where she is.”

Dave sighed. “She left shortly after I got here. I don’t know where she is at the moment.”

Nigel stood up and handed a card to Dave. “You know, I ought to arrest you for harboring a fugitive, but at the moment she is officially just wanted for questioning. As a courtesy to a fellow officer, and by the way, I am aware you are no longer on the force in the US, but being a friend of Greg, I will give you
forty-eight hours before turning you in. But you must promise me that if you hear from her, you will call me immediately. And do not tell her about our conversation.”

As soon as Nigel left, Dave closed his eyes. This was the last thing he needed. Had his hotel phone been tapped by the Met? Was she really guilty of murder? Damn. He needed to solve the case now and get back to France.

DAVE AND KATE
arrived at Westglenn an hour later. On the drive over, he’d debated whether to tell Kate about his conversation with Nigel. He decided against it. He kept thinking about Maurelle, about her accident in the general store, her running away from the man who’d given her a ride and then attacked her. She wouldn’t kill anyone, would she? He remembered what he’d told her on the phone last night: ‘I wish I could tell you we’ve ruled you out as a suspect, but I can’t’.

Kate asked him a few times if he was all right because he was
extra quiet. The silence became overbearing, so she turned on the radio.

At the school students were arriving
. Some milled about outside, talking and laughing.

“
First, let’s walk around the building,” Dave said. “I want to see if there’s any graffiti.”

“You do know that it’s probably a false lead. There wasn’t a police report. The old man probably got it wrong or was
just spreading rumors he’d heard.”

Dave kept walking. He knew better than anyone how gossip spread.
He walked across the grass and continued around the corner of the building. He stopped abruptly. Kate bumped into him.

White, orange, and yellow streaks of paint covered a quarter of the side of the building.

“Seems the old man knew what he was talking about.”

“Indeed
,” Kate said. “I think we need to talk to Fowler.”

Dave followed her back to the front of the building and up the concrete steps. He pulled open one of the double glass doors,
holding it for Kate. They made their way through the crowded corridor toward the Headmaster’s office. This time they knew exactly where they were going. But they stumbled upon Patrick Fowler in the corridor. He was facing them, and frowned when he saw them coming. He promptly finished his conversation with a man and woman, and approached Dave and Kate.

“I thought we were done,”
Fowler said.

“We need to ask you
more questions, Mr. Fowler,” Kate said. “Could we go to your office?”

He
chewed his lower lip, then whirled around on his heel. They followed. His office was at the front of the building, off to one side.

“We heard there was a graffiti incident here a couple of weeks before Jared’s murder.”

He didn’t respond.

“Why didn’t you report it to the police?” 

Again he didn’t answer but stared out the window. After a moment, he turned and looked directly at Kate. “You must understand. We run a decent school here. We didn’t want parents getting upset.”

“Do you know who was responsible for the vandalism?”

“Yes, we spoke to the boy’s parents. They assured us they would discipline him and would pay to have the paint removed.”

“But the paint is still there.”

He nodded.

“Who was it?”

He looked down at his desk and pretended to rearrange papers.

“It was Jared
Raybourne, wasn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter at this point.”

“It could make a difference in solving his case. Why did he spray paint the wall near your office?”

He picked up
one of the papers, and scanned as if reading, set it down and picked up another.

“Mr. Fowler?”

He sighed and set down the paper. “Fine. Jared Raybourne got into fights regularly during his last few months here. I lectured him many times. I called his parents in for meetings. I wanted to expel him, but the Governors and the education authority were reluctant. When I heard reports from teachers about an affair between Raybourne and one of our teachers, Ms. Barrington, I brought her in and discussed it with her. She denied the charges. When numerous parents contacted members of the Board, they finally opened up an investigation.”

“So, you think Jared spray-painted the building in retaliation?”

“He was on suspension when it happened.”

“And Ms. Barrington?”

“Maura Barrington was on leave of absence pending the Board’s investigation and hearing.”

“Did the Board ever investigate?”

“No. They were ready to begin when the Raybourne boy was murdered.”

“Who do you think killed Jared
Raybourne?”

“I don’t know.”

“You mentioned Jared got into fights. Did he have enemies?”

“Not really enemies from what I’ve heard. The fights were usually started by Mr.
Raybourne.”

He glanced at his watch. “
Look, I’m sorry, but I have a meeting I must get to in a couple minutes.”

“
Okay, thank you for talking with us, sir,” Kate said. “If you don’t mind, we would like a word with one of your teachers. I believe she is the sister of Elizabeth Raybourne.”

“Ah, yes. Pauline Wynn. She was
already questioned by the police.”

“I understand,” Kate said, “but we’d like to conduct our own interviews. You understand, don’t you?”

“This is not something I normally allow.” Abruptly, he nodded and left the room.

While he was out, Kate said, “If you’d like, I’ll have you conduct the interview while I take notes.”

Dave nodded.

Fowler didn’t return.
Instead, a blonde woman appeared. She bore a remarkable resemblance to Elizabeth Raybourne, except that she was older and somewhat plumper.

Dave stood and shook her hand. “You must be Pauline Wynn.”

“I am.”

“This is my associate, Kate Hill. We’re writing an article about your nephew’s murder case. We would like to ask you some questions.”

Kate shook her hand, sat back down, and pulled out a notebook and pen as she nodded to Dave.

Pauline sat down and gazed around the room
, obviously nervous. She said, “I am not sure I am happy about this. We don’t want anything sensationalized. It was bad enough from the beginning, and we’re trying to stay out of the papers. Why should I talk to you? Who did you say you work for?”

“Ourselves
; we’re independent journalists. Look, we don’t want to sensationalize anything, and you will be welcome to see anything we write before it is published. We just want the truth, we’re not out to harm anyone,” Kate said.

“You’ll let me see before publication?”

“Absolutely.”

She seemed to relax, though her hands were clasped together in her lap. Dave saw
her knuckles were white.

“Well—
what do you want to know?”

Dave said,
“I understand you introduced Maura Barrington to your sister, Elizabeth, when she was looking for a place to live.”

“That’s right.”
Sitting with her legs crossed, Pauline shifted and reversed them.

“Were you and Maura friends then?”

“I suppose we were,” she said. “Although we didn’t socialize much outside of work, but we usually ate lunch together here.”

“Why didn’t you socialize outside of work?”

“Well, mostly because I have a husband and five children to look after. Doesn’t give me much time to run around with the girls.”

Dave nodded and rubbed his chin. “How did Maura get along with co-workers?”

“Mostly all right.” Pauline shifted again and reversed legs again, apparently still uncomfortable.