Trust (6 page)

Jack got into his truck and headed out to the Armstrong's place, which was on the far side of town, a good twenty-minute drive. On the way out there, he passed the high school and saw the football team working hard at practice. Coach Burgess looked up as he sat waiting at a red light and waved.

As assistant sheriff, Jack was well known to many people in town, and even if they didn't know him, Waverly was still the kind of small town where people were friendly and would wave and say hello even to a stranger. He realized how much he liked living here.

He had a small, winterized cottage about a mile from the beach but high enough on a hill that he had a little view of it from his bedroom window. Only thing missing was someone to share it all with. He'd been thinking about that more lately, especially now that his best friend was about to get married and he had very few other single friends left.

He'd never thought much about it before, as he'd never lacked for dates. He'd never wanted to get serious with anyone before though, and now that he was actually considering the idea, he realized that he was in a major dry spell. He hadn't even had a date in several months. Problem with a small town like Waverly was that there weren't many single women he hadn't already dated. Oh well, it's not like he didn't have plenty of work to keep him busy.

He pulled into the driveway at the Armstrong's house and noticed that only one car was there. He wondered who was home. When he knocked on the door, Mrs. Armstrong lifted the shade first, peeked out the window and then opened the door.

"Hello, Jack. This is a surprise. Can I help you with something?" She had a pleasant and somewhat confused expression.

"I hope so. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few more questions about Eric, make sure we're not missing anything."

"Of course, come in. Sit down. I was just reading here in the living room." She opened the door wide and he came in and sat in a chair adjacent to the sofa.

"Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, soda, water?" Her voice quivered just a little and Jack felt for her. He couldn't begin to imagine how difficult this week must be for her.

"No, thank you, I'm good. I don't want to keep you long."

"That's quite all right. I'm happy to help." She settled on the sofa, and it looked like she'd been sitting there before Jack arrived, as a magazine lay open on the coffee table and a soft fleece throw was unfolded. She pulled the throw over her lap and waited for Jack to begin.

"I apologize if you've already answered most of these questions. I know this can't be easy for you, but we've found that often when we ask the same question a second or third time, we may get a slightly different answer, as you might think of something you didn't mention before."

"I understand."

"Okay, let's begin. First I want to talk about Eric's friends; who he was close with, if there was anyone he was dating?"

"I don't think he was dating anyone, at least no one that we ever saw or knew of. Eric was friendly with everyone, but he only had two really close friends, Peter Johnson and Ryan Mays. The three of them did everything together."

"Did they get along well? Had they been in any kind of a fight recently?"

"I really don't think so. They were all good kids."

"Were you aware that Eric was having some trouble at school? That his grades had slipped?"

"No, we didn't know. He'd always been a very good student. I had no idea that he was struggling in class. His last report card was excellent as usual." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "That was last year though, we haven't seen any of his grades yet this year, they don't come out for a few more weeks."

"And what about the reason why he was having trouble focusing? Eric mentioned to his teacher that there was some trouble at home and that you and Mr. Armstrong weren't getting along so well."

"There is some truth to that," she admitted with a nervous glance at the front door. Jack guessed that Mr. Armstrong was due home momentarily and probably wouldn't care much for the direction this conversation was going.

"The other day you and Mr. Armstrong were both pretty adamant that Lauren wasn't telling the truth, that Eric hadn't said anything about being unhappy at home. Why is that?"

"He can be difficult at times. He's been under a lot of stress, work has been slow and he had to lay two people off a few months ago. Guys that had been with him for years. He's been working extra hours to make sure all the work gets done. When he comes home, he's tired and short-tempered at times. I can usually read his moods, but not always quickly enough. He has a temper. If something sets him off he gets loud and sometimes a bit violent."

"Has he ever..." Jack began, but she interrupted him. "No, he's never touched either one of us. He just gets mad and smashes things. It doesn't last long though. I never realized how much it must have bothered Eric. He never said anything,” she said softly and her eyes were wet.

Jack decided it was time to change the subject, get back to an easier question.

"When was the last time you saw Eric? When did he disappear?”

“Five days ago on Saturday afternoon. He was heading out to work the morning shift at the country club. He never came home. I don't think he ever made it to work either."

The club manager had confirmed that Eric didn't show for work that day. Which meant he'd likely been killed in the early morning hours when it was still dark out.

"Where were you and Mr. Armstrong that day?"

"We were both home. Ted was working out back in his shed. He does woodworking as a hobby, mostly wooden boat models. He loves working on boats of all sizes."

"Does he own a boat?"

"He keeps a small dinghy down at the pond. Ted also loves to fish. He'll disappear for hours sometimes, just sitting out there in his boat waiting for a fish to come by."

At that, the front door opened and Ted walked in. He looked surprised and not overjoyed to see Jack engaged in conversation with his wife.

"What's going on?" he asked gruffly as he shook off his coat and stepped out of his work boots.

"Hi honey. Jack was just asking a few more questions."

"What's left to ask? Didn't we cover everything the other day?"

"We just don't want to miss anything. We're determined to find who did this to your son, Mr. Armstrong."

"Good. We just about done then?"

"Just about. Oh, do you golf, Mr. Armstrong?"

"Used to. Not so much anymore, too busy. Why is that important?"

"Just wondering how Eric became interested in it. I heard he was pretty good."

Ted puffed his chest out a bit at that and his voice sounded a little friendlier. "Taught him myself when he turned five. We used to spend a lot of time together on the course." Jack decided to end the conversation on a high note.

"Well, I think we're good for now. Thank you both for your time." He stood up and turned toward the door. Judith jumped up to open it for him.

"We're glad to help and appreciate everything that you're doing. Don't hesitate to call again if you need anything else."

"I'll be sure to do that. Good night."

Jack walked back to his car and glanced back at the house. The shed door was ajar and he could see what looked like half of a small wooden boat on a workbench. He wondered what his real boat looked like. Neither of the Armstrong’s was considered a suspect, although their only alibis were each other. Technically, they still needed to be officially ruled out. He'd have to go get a look at that boat on Pine Pond for starters.

––––––––

Chapter Fourteen

L
auren almost ran a red light on her way home. She just couldn't get there fast enough. She was sill sniffling as she pulled into her parking spot and ran into the house. She threw her stuff down on the kitchen table and went upstairs to draw a bath, and added a generous amount of bubble bath to the water as it poured in. One of her favorite ways to unwind after a stressful day or when she was really upset about something was to sink into a relaxing, hot bath.

She undressed and dipped a toe in the water. It was just hot enough and she stepped in and sat back with her head leaning against the side of the tub. She tried to empty her mind and just let the warm water wash over her. It felt wonderful and she lost track of how long she had laid there. She didn't want to get out of the tub—it was so nice to just float and think of absolutely nothing. But eventually, the water started to cool and the troublesome thoughts began to creep back in.

How bad was this going to get? She knew from personal experience that it didn't always matter so much whether someone was guilty or not. Once word got out that she was even considered a 'person of interest', there would be many who would consider her guilty as charged. Where there's smoke, there's fire, you know. Since the media vans were there today, she knew that her life was about to change.

She'd be on the news tonight and in the papers tomorrow morning. It didn't matter that she wasn't an official suspect, or that they had no real suspect or any evidence to tie her to anything. It was becoming public knowledge that she was being looked at, and that alone would be damning. She wondered what it would mean for her job. There were bound to be parent protests, and in a way, she couldn't blame them. If she were in their shoes, she'd be concerned too. 

Reluctantly, Lauren eased out of the tub and wrapped herself in a thick soft towel. Half an hour later, with shiny dry hair and in her favorite velour sweats and a big fisherman knit sweater, she padded downstairs and poured herself a small glass of chardonnay. David had called earlier and said he'd bring home some Thai takeout. She figured she had about an hour before he arrived and could probably get through grading most of the stack of papers she'd brought home.

Almost exactly an hour later, she finished grading her last paper and put the stack back in her bag to bring in to work the next day. It was a few minutes before six, so she clicked on the TV, dreading the evening news, but knowing she needed to know what she'd be dealing with tomorrow.

David came in the door just as the news started. Lauren got a couple of paper plates and they settled on the living room sofa with the takeout cartons lined up on the coffee table. They dug in as the broadcast started, and sure enough, it didn't take long for the coverage to begin. In fact, Lauren was the lead story for the night.

Mary Piper, a perky, twenty-something brunette with a gleaming smile and perfectly styled hair started things off: "Tonight we're bringing you the latest on the shocking disappearance and murder of a young Waverly teen. His teacher, Lauren Stanhope is officially a 'person of interest' as there seems to be some question as to whether or not the two were having a romantic relationship. They were admittedly meeting secretly after class and Eric's grades took a sudden upturn in the past few weeks. We spoke with the teacher, Lauren Stanhope, earlier today and have live coverage of her statement after the break."

"You spoke to them?" David put down his fork and looked at Lauren in surprise. "Why would you do that?"

"I felt like I had to. If I hadn't said anything, they would have shown coverage of me running away from them, looking guilty. This way I stood up for myself. I was pretty upset."

After the break, they aired the video of Lauren. She cringed at the crazed hunted expression on her face and wondered if she'd done the right thing. Maybe she should have kept quiet, said nothing and waited for it to all blow over.

"I didn't realize how bad they were," David said as the segment ended and the weather forecast began. "I think you did the right thing. They would have worn you down eventually. Better to come out fighting, I think."

"I don't know," Lauren said doubtfully. "I looked a little unhinged."

"You looked upset and who wouldn't be? I don't understand how they can air stuff like this, to put it out there that you are a suspect when they have no evidence of anything. It seems wrong."

"But I'm not a suspect, I'm a 'person of interest', which is significantly different, yet I doubt most people watching the broadcast will realize that. They'll just assume I'm guilty of something."

They finished eating in silence and when done, David leaned back and said, "Let's go away this weekend, get out of town and just relax. Maybe go to that bed and breakfast up in Maine you've mentioned before. We can eat lobster, have blueberry pancakes for breakfast, and forget about all this insanity for a few days.

"That sounds heavenly. First, I have to get through tomorrow. Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday." Lauren also knew she was going to have to share something with David that was a chapter she’d long ago shut the door on. More than once, she had considered telling him about what had happened nearly twenty years ago, but that was something from her past that wasn’t relevant now and things were so good between them. Lauren just wanted to forget that awful night and the aftermath that followed.

Chapter Fifteen

L
auren expected that the media vans might be at the school again; what she didn't anticipate was that they'd be parked right outside her condo, waiting to pounce the minute she walked outside.