Page 17 of The Killing Plains

“Every kid in town knew to stay away from Willis Newland. He was our boogeyman.” The light changed, and Avery turned left. “I read Adam’s case file and watched the tapes of Willis’s interrogation. They didn’t threaten him, but they promised he could go home as soon as he confessed. I don’t think he understood what was going on.”

Colly leaned against the headrest. “Usually, a victim’s family is thrilled when someone’s held accountable.”

“Nobody should be wrongfully convicted, even a pedophile. Prison must’ve been hell for someone like Willis.”

Avery seemed sincere. But Colly couldn’t escape the feeling that she was withholding something. “How old were you when Adam died?”

“Eight.”

“You didn’t hear or see anything that night?”

Avery seemed unsettled by the question. She hesitated. “I was in bed asleep. I only remember my dad carrying me out of the burning house. I was cold, so I got clothes off the clothesline.”

Colly said nothing. Instinct and training told her that Avery was lying. It was something about the angle of her shoulders, the overly even timbre of her voice. But why?

Two blocks north of Market Street, they parked in front of a red-brick building ringed with trimmed boxwoods. The sign said, “Compass Counseling Center, Dr. Niall Shaw.”

Avery reached for the camera, but Colly shook her head. “We’re just here for a friendly chat.”

Inside, a grandmotherly woman smiled at them from the reception desk. “Can I help you?” She had just taken a bite of the sandwich she was holding, and she covered her mouth as she spoke.

Colly introduced herself and started to explain the reason for her visit, but the woman cut her off.

“Oh, yes, Detective, Brenda mentioned you might stop by. I’ll tell her you’re here.” She reached for the phone.

A minute later, a door down the hall swung open, and Brenda emerged.

They chatted briefly before Colly said, “I didn’t know you counseled here. Russ told me.”

“Didn’t I mention it? My time’s split between this and the school. I’ll finish clinical supervision hours this summer.”

“And then I’ll have to find another way to keep her around,” said a deep, male voice.

Colly looked up. A tall, slender man in gray slacks and a crisp Oxford was strolling down the hall towards them. He was African American—in his late thirties, Colly judged—with a handsome, perceptive face and an air of casual confidence. Brenda introduced him as her supervisor and boss, Dr. Niall Shaw.

“More of a colleague.” He laughed. “Pearl’s the real boss around here.” He patted the receptionist affectionately on the shoulder, then extended his hand to Colly. “Brenda explained why you’re in town. Happy to help.” He gave Avery a friendly nod, clearly recognizing her. She returned it coldly.

What’s the story there?Colly wondered. “We’re reviewing Denny Knox’s movements the day he died. Is this a bad time?”

Shaw glanced at his watch. “Perfect. We never schedule noon clients. Not that I’ll be very helpful—I was out of town that whole week. But I’m glad you’re here. These last six months have beenrough. Parents are scared stiff there might be a killer out there. Here at the clinic, we’re seeing more kids for depression and anxiety. I’m treating a kindergartener with an ulcer, believe it or not. Something’s got to give.” He waved them around the reception desk. “Let’s chat in my office. You too, Pearl. Lock the front door.”

In contrast with the lobby, Shaw’s office felt cluttered and masculine, furnished with deep leather armchairs and walnut paneling lined with bookshelves. An enormous stuffed trout hung on the wall behind the desk.

Shaw noticed Colly staring. “That’s Oscar. Beauty, isn’t he?”

“You didn’t catch him around here, did you?”

“Hardly.” Shaw chuckled as he offered them seats. “I’m originally from Montana. I get back there to fly-fish when I can.”

Brenda grinned at Pearl. “That’s a new record.”

“Record for what?” Colly asked.

“They like to see how long it takes me to mention fishing,” Shaw said good-naturedly.

Colly found herself warming to his relaxed friendliness. He was an easy person to like—a handy quality in a therapist, she imagined. “I have copies of everyone’s statements to the Rangers, but I wanted to go through things in person. You say you were out of town, Dr. Shaw?”

“Please, it’s Niall. I was in Phoenix at an APA conference. Brenda called me the morning Denny was found. I caught the next flight home.”

---