Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
They’d talked, yes, perhaps found some understanding. Some peace. But as far as them, nothing had changed. He pulled himself to his feet, and dammit if his legs weren’t a bit shaky. He almost laughed. Only one woman could make his legs shaky, and apparently it didn’t matter if he was seventeen or twenty-nine. “Come on. I’ll take you to your car,” he said, and though she followed him, she kept her distance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Sienna, there’s someone here to see you.” Sienna looked up, nodding at Xavier as she set down the can of Coke she’d just sipped from, hoping the dose of caffeine and sugar would help the slight headache she felt coming on. She wasn’t in the habit of drinking soda in the morning, but God, she felt bleary eyed. Once again, she’d tossed and turned for most of the night, her mind going over the case, the letters, but with an added restlessness regarding Gavin and all they’d talked about.
Not to mention that kiss.
“The science teacher from Copper Canyon High School?” she asked Xavier. It had to be. He was the only person she’d gotten hold of who had agreed to come to the station and answer a few questions regarding their Mr. Patches.
“Yeah. I took him to your desk. I wasn’t sure you wanted him in here.”
Sienna stood. “No,” she said. She didn’t have to look at the board to remind herself it wasn’t something any civilian would be prepared for. Not to mention the fact that it was evidence, most of which hadn’t been dispensed to the public. “Thanks, Xavier. Any headway with those yearbooks?”
He began walking with her toward the room where both their desks were situated. “Not really. I’ve been able to eliminate a handful of the male students based on the fact that they no longer live in the state or whatnot, but I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for.”
Sienna sighed as they turned the corner. “Neither are we,” she said. “Keep eliminating, and let me know if anything sets your Spidey senses tingling.”
He grinned as he turned away from her toward his desk. “Will do.”
A man in his sixties, mostly bald and wearing round glasses, sat in the empty chair to the side of her metal desk, and Sienna held out her hand as she approached. “Mr. Freehan?”
He stood, shaking it. “Detective Walker. Call me Roy.”
“And call me Sienna,” she said, taking a seat and blinking as a small head rush made the room spin momentarily. “Thanks for coming in. I would have been happy to meet you.”
“It was no problem. It was on the way to an appointment I have in about an hour.”
“I won’t take much of your time. I was just hoping you could answer some general questions about a teacher you worked with twenty years ago, Sheldon Biel. You were the only other science teacher at the school at that time, so I thought you might have worked with him more closely than other staff.”
“Oh, I see.” His face soured. “Yes, I remember Sheldon. He was very popular with the children and with the staff too.” He paused. “I never had a problem with him, per se. He seemed nice enough and from all appearances did his job well. It was only afterward . . .”
Afterward. There was a lot contained in that word. “Yes,” Sienna said, “we’re aware of his disappearance and what was found in his home.”
Roy Freehan shook his head. “Unthinkable, really, that a man who worked that closely with children had a propensity for watching them be victimized. How do you reconcile that?”
You don’t. And it wasn’t only watching that had interested Sheldon Biel. “It’s troubling,” she said carefully.
Mr. Freehan leaned forward. “Are you looking into his disappearance again after all this time?”
“No. We’ve actually recently discovered a body and verified through dental records it was Mr. Biel. It appears he was murdered close to the time he went missing. His family’s been notified.” There had been a news story on it that morning, but evidently Mr. Freehan had missed it.
Roy sat back, his expression registering surprise. “Oh. Oh,” he repeated. “And you want to know if I can think of anyone who might have wanted to harm him?” he asked. “The police questioned me about that when he disappeared.”
“No, not just that, unless you can think of anything now that you didn’t think of then. I know it was a long time ago. But what I’m wondering is if you remember noticing that he spent more time with one student over another or . . . well, if he seemed to favor any particular child?”
“Oh,” Roy Freehan said again, obviously understanding her line of questioning in light of what had come out after he’d gone missing. “Um . . .” He scratched at his bald head, then took off his glasses and used the hem of his shirt to shine the lenses. “I parked right next to him in the parking lot,” he said. “And I did see him driving students home sometimes. I think he tutored a few of them after hours . . .” Mr. Freehan looked up at her, pausing in his lens cleaning, his gaze registering understanding. “Oh.” He let out a long breath, then put his glasses back on. He looked noticeably paler as he squinted, clearly traveling into the past, racking his brain. “I seem to recall seeing him on several occasions get into his car with the dark-haired kid who was always carrying around a deck of cards.”