Page 61 of Final Escape
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Carrie tossed and turnedmost of the night, through broken dreams of Billy, good times and bad. Images of his mangled face. Their first date, when he’d been so courtly and charming, with that dangerous twinkle in his eye and his lazy grin promising fun and adventure. The leering, twisted face of Sheriff Tyler as he relentlessly pursued Logan and her through a nightmare world of eerie darkness.
The sheriff and his deputies hadn’t been back since talking to Penny on Tuesday, and the uncertainty of that looming encounter awakened her time and again, her stomach twisting in knots.
The townsfolk who had described the encounter on the night of Billy’s murder had spoken the truth as they saw it. But they’d missed seeing Billy’s angry face, and hearing what he’d said. And Penny was right. Their testimony—if it came to that—could be critical elements in any trial.
Despite the warm sweater she’d worn to ward off the morning chill, Carrie shivered as she unlocked the door and walked into her empty classroom on Monday morning a few minutes before the bell rang. How had life suddenly become so complicated?
One silly, immature mistake years ago had set into play a domino effect of events she’d never expected to experience. A rebellious choice to date a bad boy no parent would approve of, followed by a difficult marriage. A painful divorce. The death of her ex-husband, who may have been a rascal, but who certainly hadn’t deserved to die. And now she was caught up in a web of events and evidence that might even send her to jail.
At the sound of footsteps, she dredged up a smile of welcome and turned to greet her first student of the day.
But there weren’t any students at the door.
“Ms. Randall, we need to talk.” Ed Grover walked in, his face somber. He waved her toward the chairs set up at a work-table in the corner of the room, then shut the door behind him.
Her heart sank. The local newspaper came out weekly and the next issue wouldn’t be printed until Wednesday, but no one in town needed a paper to stay current on what was happening. The ongoing investigation hadn’t turned up Billy’s killer. There’d been absolutely no evidence found by either the local sheriff’s department or the BCI.
And since most murders were committed by relatives and acquaintances of the victims, suspicion would soon intensify in her direction. She had all three of the necessary requirements—motive, means, opportunity. Except she hadn’t done it, and she hadn’t hired Logan to, either.
Bracing herself for the worst, she dutifully sank into a chair and smiled at him. “Can I help you?”
He looked at her from over his half-glasses. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you why I’m here.”
“I suppose it’s either about the Noah Colwell situation, or because my ex-husband was...” The word was still so hard to say. “That he was murdered. I still can’t believe it.”
Grover appeared taken aback at the emotion in her words. “Yes. Well...it’s a very sad situation, to be sure.”
“I still don’t understand why anyone here would do such a thing. I don’t think he’d ever been to Granite Falls before, or that he even knew a soul here, other than me.” She shuddered. “And now there’s a killer on the loose in the area. I’m sure the community is terrified.”
He gave her an odd look, then cleared his throat. “The thing is, such events are rare in a place like this. In the past forty years, there’s been just one other murder here. Our parents are, well, understandably nervous.”
“Of course they are.”
He fidgeted with his necktie. “I received several calls at home over the weekend, and three more were on my answering machine when I arrived this morning.”
“I’m not sure what this has to do with me.”
“They’ve withdrawn their children from your class. They all feel that, in light of the current situation, they’d rather not have their children here.”
She blinked. “Because my ex-husband was murdered?”
“Some were quite vocal about their concerns, actually. And I would feel the same, if I were in their shoes.”
She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. “So these people are assuming that I was involved in Billy’s death. That I’m not suitable as a teacher.”
“No one is actually assigning guilt, Ms. Randall.”
Yet.“But they are listening to gossip. Half truths.”
His expression hardened. “I talked to the sheriff a few minutes ago. It’s clear enough that there’s an ongoing investigation. And until everything is fully resolved, your presence here is not an asset to the school.”
“But—”
“I consulted our school district’s in-house attorney, and given that most of your students have withdrawn and that there are possible legal issues ahead, we are placing you on unpaid leave. You can, of course, elect to simply end your contract.”
