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He pushed out a breath. “Yeah. Me, too.”
She began playing again. “In fact, I blamed myself all these years. Jackson had been upset that I was attending the conference with your father. So I figured he went out hiking, as he usually did when he wanted to think, to get away from things and work out his frustrations. For months, I tormented myself, imagining him with broken bones and suffering, in pain, lost, maybe attacked by animals. It tore my heart to pieces. After the police closed the case, and everyone presumed he was dead, your father broached the possibility of us staying together. With Jackson gone, you gone, it seemed like the best thing, so I said yes.”
“Have you told all this to the police? That is a powerful motive. Whoever this woman was Mr. Williams had been involved with—”
“I did. Yesterday, before you arrived, I told the detective. And let me tell you, it really lightened my guilt to finally set things right after all these years.” She finished the piano piece and exhaled softly, placing her hands on her lap. “Now, I think I’ll see if Patty has anything prepared for lunch. Can I get you something?”
“No, thanks.” She left him there, staring at the piano keys.
His mother and Mr. Williams had truly loved each other. And as hurt and betrayed as he had felt for all these years, he found it didn’t hurt nearly as much anymore. Who was he to judge his mother for falling in love? Mr. Williams, as people went, had been a pretty good guy. And from the sound of it, his feelings were sincere. They would have been happy together.
Until someone killed him.
He had been dating someone else. Another teacher at St. Andrew’s. And she hadn’t taken the news he’d moved on very well. Volatile was the word his mother had used.
Enough to poison him? To stab him and kill him?
Sam needed to look through his senior yearbook at the faculty listings. See if there was something—someone—he’d missed.
Because if this woman was still on the faculty, she would have been watching Allie’s progress closely, trying to thwart her efforts. Like maybe setting a fire, if she thought there was something in those boxes that would link her to the crime, or vandalizing Allie’s car to scare her off.
She also could have known Jackson Williams’s sister had sent a package of his things to Allie—hell, that box had been sitting in the office in plain sight for God knew how long before he’d taken it to Allie himself. The killer, if indeed it was a teacher, would have been anxious to get her hands on that box. To make sure there was nothing incriminating inside. And she would have come across his mother’s letters. And known exactly who had written them. So in another effort to turn attention onto someone else, she would have had good reason to tip off the police about his mom.
He knew it.
Someone else had betrayed him.
Not Allie.
He jumped to his feet, slamming down the lid of the piano.
If Allie finished that tribute and presented it to the committee, it could be all over for the killer. The guilty person could easily be exposed as the murderer by some clue hidden in the old video footage or photos.
The thing was, that person had already killed once. What was to prevent them from killing again?
Allie could be in terrible danger.
As panic started to sweep over him, he ordered himself to calm down. Allie was still at school, surrounded by people. She also knew better than to go anywhere on her own that wasn’t safe.
She’d be fine for now.
The best thing Sam could do for her at this point was to figure out who was doing this.
He had to stop the killer. Before it was too late.
…
The last bell rang to announce the end of a long Monday. Allie barely looked up, too busy reviewing her video. It was almost there. Just a little more editing…
A burst of laughter from some of the sophomore boys gathered by their locker pulled her focus from her project. Okay. Maybe it was time for a break. Definitely for some coffee. Saving her work on the computer, she slipped her clogs back on and made her way along the hallway filled with students pouring from their classes.
The faculty lounge was quiet, with only a handful of teachers still hanging around. Two of the history teachers were deep in their own private conversation. The girls’ P.E. teacher was on her cell phone having an animated discussion. Tim was busy scratching away on a clipboard—probably putting together some play for next season’s soccer team. And Señora Sanchez was sipping what was likely her specially mixed tea leaves as she gazed out the window. No one even looked Allie’s way as she walked in.
Which was fine with her, since she had a lot to think about. A whiff of the acrid-smelling coffee simmering on the burner told her she’d be better off starting a fresh pot. Grabbing the pot, she rinsed it out, measured coffee into the filter, and flipped the switch. Then she took a seat, waiting for it to brew.
Funny how just this morning she’d been so desolate, ready to scrap the homage to Mr. Williams, willing to think the worst of him. But speaking to Jeremy had helped her rediscover her mission again, and she’d spent every moment of her free time today on the project. The big reveal to the planning committee was on Thursday. Her video just had to be approved.
She was so glad her doubts about him had been erased. It would have totally broken her heart to think that all the wisdom and encouragement he’d given her had only
