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She knew she needed to remember, but she couldn’t. At this moment of high pressure, the memory was elusive.
May began to worry it would escape her forever, or at least for long enough to be useless to her in figuring out this case.
“You’re trying too hard,” said Owen. “Think about something else and maybe it will come to you.”
“Something else? At this time?” May sighed. She couldn’t get her mind off the case. “Let’s go back and look at old news articles. Maybe that will help with the memories.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Looking thoughtful, Owen turned to his laptop. Then he turned back again. “What should we search for?”
“I don’t know. We need to identify some parameters that will connect with what’s happening now.”
“Callum? The McGees? Perhaps there’s something on them, going back?”
“Let’s take a look. That’s a good starting point.”
Feeling hopeful, May moved to the computer. She typed in Mr. McGee’s name and searched. She added the key words crime, murder, arrest. Then she tried the same with Mrs. McGee and Callum.
“Nothing is coming up,” she said. She drummed her fingers on the desk in annoyance.
“So then we need to search for something different. Widen the parameters,” Owen suggested.
“The families of the victims?”
May tried those too. Search after search, going through everything that felt relevant to the case, or that their research had uncovered so far.
No matter what she chose, she couldn’t find more information on the fact she was almost remembering. Nothing except that persistent nagging in her mind, telling her that there really was something to be found, if only she could look properly.
She entered Jessop’s name.
That, too, produced no results. May was frustrated. What if she just couldn’t remember? What if it was something that wasn’t searchable, something that she’d only heard about through chitchat in the community, or her mother telling her?
“Let’s try all the victims’ family names. Maybe that brings something up.”
“Okay.” Owen sounded quietly hopeful, which was more than May felt.
They both did the search. May stared as the results flashed in, willing for something to appear. But there was nothing significant. Weddings, funerals, special events. Once, Shawna’s dad had served on the mayoral committee and once, Emily’s mother had been involved in a road rage incident, but it had been handled long ago and although May searched carefully, the offender seemed to have been a passerby who had left town.
She sighed. She’d had hopes for the road rage incident, but nothing was getting anywhere.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” May said. “I just can’t think. We’ve run out of ideas. Maybe we need a break. Maybe we need to stop, get some fresh air, clear our heads.”
She knew they couldn’t. There was no time for that. They couldn’t do so much as take a breath when the clock was ticking inexorably on.
“Let’s not search names. Let’s search places,” he decided.
“The town. Chestnut Hill?” May asked.
“Or maybe even more specific. The school. Chestnut Hill High. That’s where all the victims are from. There could be a common thread here we’re not seeing,” Owen suggested.
“Let’s take a look.”
They each keyed in the name of the town and the high school.
May’s shoulders felt stiff and her eyes were strained from speed-reading irrelevant information on that bright, unforgiving screen. She felt as if this was the last possible lead. She could not think of any other possibilities.
“No, this is it,” May said. “This is our last chance.”
She stared at the screen, willing it to bring up something that might be helpful.
