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“Twofer?”
“Two-for-one. Assured me that both her sons, Alex and TJ, are totally innocent.” Alvarez glanced up from her cell. “Of what I’m not sure. She wasn’t specific, so I’m going wi
th innocent in general.”
“Of all criminal activity or mischief or whatever,” Pescoli thought aloud. “Sounds like her. Pretty high-maintenance and by the book. Rigid. Type-A through and through, and a fitness instructor to boot. Participates in triathlons, maybe even an Ironman or two, I don’t really know, but I think she hauls her bike over to the West Coast every year and rides it all over the state in some organized race.”
“Cycle Oregon?”
“You know it?”
“Heard of it.”
Pescoli nodded, her damned stomach rumbling again despite the protein bar she’d devoured driving to work. “They ride over mountains and by the ocean and across the desert, all across the state. Hundreds of miles. Route changes each year. Takes like a week or something. I know because, when Joe was alive, he was always trying to talk me into it,” she said, bringing up her first husband, Jeremy’s father. “He took up bicycling for a while. That was twenty years ago or so, but I think it’s basically the same,” she said a little sadly. Theirs hadn’t been an even-keeled marriage, not by a long shot. They’d both been young and bullheaded and, she had to admit, she’d been even more volatile then than she was now. But Officer Joe Strand had been a pretty good man, a great officer of the law, and a so-so husband. Both he and Regan had fought the bonds of marriage and parenthood. Then, suddenly, just when she’d hoped the marriage would straighten out, he’d been killed in the line of duty. Her heart still twisted a bit. Survivor’s guilt never quite let go of you.
She took another sip of her now-tepid coffee and snapped herself out of her melancholy thoughts. “Anyway, Billie O’Hara is into fitness in a big way,” she said.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“The point is that whatever she does, whatever Billie focuses on, she has the intensity of an eagle diving for a fish in a lake. Whether it’s an athletic event, or a position on the school board, or her job at the athletic club, she makes certain she wins. Always ends up on top.”
“And expects the same of her boys?”
“Yep.”
“Sounds like you know her. Personally.”
“I did. A while back. Before she got into the fitness thing. She was just another mom at the preschool. A widow. Lost her husband to a logging accident when the boys were still in elementary school. She’s always been fiercely protective of her kids. Never saw that they did any wrong and I think, for the most part, she’s right.” Pescoli shifted in the chair. “Is it just me or is it like the middle of the Mojave Desert in here?” To cool off, she lifted her hair off her neck.
“It’s you.”
Of course it was. She found the tiny fan situated on the far side of her computer and pressed the switch. Air started flowing, blowing across her face and ruffling some papers. She adjusted the direction and the pages settled back down. “So the deal is that I know most of the parents of the kids that were at the party last night, or at least I’ve been introduced to them over the years. I met some when our kids were in preschool, then saw them over the years as my kids went through elementary and junior high school. The O’Hara boys, both of ’em, attended Good Feelings.”
“Good Feelings?”
“The preschool.”
“Seriously?”
“I know, I know. Sounds a little granola.”
“A little?”
“I think the owners were trying to do something with the letters in Grizzly Falls, and since the image of a grizzly bear doesn’t quite fit with the warm and cuddly tone of preschool, they took the letters G and F and came up with Good Feelings.” At Alvarez’s smile, Pescoli added, “Yeah, it was a little ‘Kumbaya’ for me, but everything else was too strict or too religious or too expensive. Anyway, the O’Hara boys, Lara Haas, Bryant Tophman—for a while before his dad’s church came up with their own—and Kywin Bell all went to Good Feelings at one point or another. Austin Reece and Simone Delaney, and oh, Maddie Averill, too, I think, but I’m not sure how long some of them were there. It was a long time ago. I guess all that ‘peace be with you’ didn’t rub off on all of them.”
“Teenagers are a whole different breed of cat from who they were as preschoolers.”
“Can’t argue there.” Both Jeremy and Bianca had once been sweet and innocent as young children, only to turn into rebellious hellions in high school. She took a final sip of her decaf and drained the paper cup before crushing it and tossing it into the trash. “I’m thinking you might have a few more parents who phoned in. I’m willing to guess that Wilda Wyze called too.”
“Kywin Bell’s mother.” Her gaze slid to her notes. “Yep. Bright and early.”
“So her son is misunderstood as well?”
“She actually wasn’t all defensive. Just wanted to know the score and seemed worried. Said she was afraid that he had some bad influences in his life.”
Pescoli said, “She’s talking about her ex?”
“Franklin Bell. Yeah. He’s called about three times, but I’ve missed him. I have a list of parents to call back. But first things first.”
