Page 37 of Unnatural
“Is that when the gunman brought the weapon to his own head?”
“Yes, but first he pointed it at a woman standing by the fence.”
“A woman?” No one had mentioned a woman.
“Yes. I just remembered her actually.” She shook her head. “Sorry, in all the confusion, I didn’t remember her. Yes, there was a woman, and she wasn’t a teacher here, because she was outside the gate at first. She was…wearing jeans and a bulky sweater.” She furrowed her brow. “Red maybe? Or pink? Anyway, the gunman raised the gun and pointed it at her, and she seemed to brace, but then he brought it to his head instead and fired. I guess the shock of seeing that…what happened right before it sort of disappeared from my mind temporarily.”
“That’s not unusual, Ms. Maples.” It was why he liked to interview witnesses right after the event and then after some time. “Where did the woman go after the gunman shot himself?”
“I don’t know. The police cars arrived out front, and I ushered all the kids to the door. I knew from watching that the gunman was no longer a threat. Even so, we waitedbehind the door for help to arrive. When they did, we exited out the front door. I didn’t see the white-haired man or the woman in the sweater after that.”
“Can you tell me anything else about what the woman looked like?”
Ms. Maples rubbed her temple, obviously straining to recollect. After a moment, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I see her outline in my mind and that sweater, but…I just can’t remember anything else about her.”
“Okay. You’ve been a big help. Thank you, Ms. Maples. You’re meeting with the sketch artist now?”
“Yes.”
“Will you see if you can remember anything more specific about the woman too, and if so, have a sketch drawn up for the team of investigators?”
“Of course.”
Mark removed a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call.”
She glanced at it and nodded. “I will, Agent.”
A deputy escorted her back through the crime scene where techs still worked collecting evidence from the pavement, and the lead detective turned back toward Mark. “My boss told me the FBI wasn’t going to arrive for a couple days. Some holdup or another. Can I ask why you came alone, Agent? And all the way from Montana?”
Mark looked at the detective. There was a holdup in the FBI getting there? That was concerning. And familiar. And made him all the more certain that his instincts were correct regarding this event. He cleared his throat. “I’m here because this might be connected to a larger case.”
The detective considered him for a moment. “What makes you think that?”
“Some similarities.” Mark couldn’t say much more than that, not on that point anyway. He might be wildly off base anyway. But his gut told him he wasn’t. Especially in light of the second man who’d been there, the one who’d tried to stop the gunman and then disappeared. The shooter was dead and could no longer provide answers, but the white-haired man was not. And that man hadn’t fled the scene for no reason. Mark did not believe he’d been there randomly. “Are you collecting camera footage from the surrounding area?”
“Yup. There’s a business district that way,” the detective said, pointing in front of Mark. “So there’s a lot. Unfortunately, there aren’t any good views of the back of the school, but we’re scouring the surrounding streets. It will be a lot of tape to go through, but at least we have the timing to narrow things down. And in the meantime, we’ve got an APB out for the man with the white hair. It’s just too bad we don’t have more than that one descriptor to go on. Hopefully the sketch provided by that teacher helps.”
Mark nodded. “Detective…I need to ask you not to release a sketch to the public just yet.”
The detective looked momentarily taken aback. “Someone might be able to identify him. It might not be a lot to go on, but a head of white hair on a young man is quite a descriptor.”
“I think it’s important that we identify him first. Let’s go back to your office, and I can explain more.”Not everything, but some.
The detective considered him for a moment, stroking his mustache before giving a nod. “I can give you a lift.”
Mark followed the detective from the schoolyard, glancing at the spot where the man with the white hair’s bloodhad soaked into the concrete after he’d taken a slew of bullets and then evidently walked away.Or been helped.
The man with the white hair.
Was he one of the lost?
And if he wasn’t, who the hell was he?
Chapter Eighteen
Sam was back in the hospital, about to go under the knife.Again.His soul wailed, body flailing as the pain envelopedhim. Hot. Scalding.Crushing.The pain not only made his nerve endings sizzle torturously, but it also made him feel so lonely. Forgotten. He bellowed, the sound of a trapped animal. Misery.
Shh, my moonlight boy. You’re okay. Stop moving, and you won’t keep ripping out your stitches.
