AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Wiliker scratched his bald head, dislodged his glasses, grabbed them, and slid them back up his forehead. “Of course, now you say her name. She was in that same class, I think. It was quite a hullabaloo; there were rumors, never substantiated, that she was doing drugs and ran away, common enough, but not here, not at Bennington. The local Glenbridge police weren’t ever able to turn anything up or I’d know about it. It was a sad thing, scared all the kids and parents.”
Mia said, “Do you happen to remember if Alex knew her? If the police spoke to him?”
Wiliker looked surprised, but said easily, “Well, the police spoke to everyone, me included, even the nutritionist, Ms. Busbee. No one knew anything. Of course Alex knew her, she was the captain of the girls’ lacrosse team, another reason she wouldn’t touch drugs. She was an athlete. Her parents—imagine not knowing what happened to your child? Living your whole life without knowing? I remember after Teresa disappeared I kept my own kids really close.”
“Ah, and did Teresa and Alex date?”
Coach shook his head. “I don’t remember. It was sixteen years ago—” He tapped his head. “Old brain.”
Mia pulled the two photos Dirk had enhanced out of her messenger bag, placed them on Wiliker’s desk. “Do you recognize either of these men?”
Wiliker pulled down his black-framed glasses and studied the two photos. He said, “These are older, aren’t they?”
“Yes, seven years old.”
She saw he wanted to be helpful, but he finally shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Briscoe, but it’s hard to make out their features since they’re not facing the camera, only bits of their profiles, and they’re a bit blurry. I can’t imagine why these particular photos are important to this article you’re writing about Alex Harrington.”
Mia held her breath, pointed. “Bear with me. Do you see the notch in this man’s ear? Like he was hurt, maybe playing sports?”
Coach brought the photo close. Slowly, he nodded. “I see it, looks like an injury that healed years ago. I’ve seen several like that when a boy gets hit on the ear with a lacrosse stick.”
“Do you remember if Alex Harrington was ever injured? An injury like this?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. It was back in his junior year before the captain, Jordan, was hurt. He accidentally hit Alex with a lacrosse stick. The reason I remember his injury so well is because I was the one who took him to our nurse.”
“Tell me, what is Jordan Jeffers doing now?”
“Why do you want to know about Jordan Jeffers?”
“Again, Coach, just being thorough.”
“Jordan never played lacrosse again but he did graduate, probably went to some Ivy League college, no doubt, which is what the great majority of Bennington students do. I heard he’s fine now, lives in Montpelier, runs his family’s chain of restaurants.” He paused a moment, pointed to the photo. “You think this man is Alex? Why do you care? Why would anyone care?”
Mia shrugged. “Just a bit of interest, that’s all. Since you knew him very well for four years I thought I’d ask.”
“It could be Alex, but Ms. Briscoe, you should show this to Alex, not me.” He straightened in his chair, suddenly stiff, his eyes narrowed. “Wait. Why did you show me that photo? Why does it matter if Alex Harrington tore his earlobe? Surely an injury that minor can’t be important to your article.”
Mia gave him a fat smile. “A friend of his showed me the photo, name of Benny Holmes, said he’d been to a great party with Alex, celebrating something, he couldn’t remember, someone took this photo and he’d kept it. Before I used it, I wanted to be sure it was really Alex.”
Wiliker was getting suspicious. She couldn’t blame him, she’d gotten too heavy-handed. But she’d gotten what she wanted. Time to pack up her tent and go home. Mia tucked her tablet back in her messenger bag, slipped her cell into her coat pocket, and rose. She quickly pulled on her coat. “I won’t take any more of your time. Thank you, Coach Wiliker, you’ve added depth, some fine details I’ll be able to use in my article. When I see Alex, I’ll tell him I spoke with you, tell him how fondly you remember him.”
That bit of praise unbent him enough to shake her hand.
Mia was back on the road and headed to New York City a few minutes later. Now she could keep her promise to Pilar Kaplan, the administrative assistant she’d spoken to at Harvard when she had stopped there to talk to Alex’s professors. No need to give her name out to anyone as a witness. Pilar had been quite sure it was Alex in the picture, claimed she recognized his old bracelet, said he never took it off. Now Mia knew Alex Harrington’s earlobe had been torn by a lacrosse stick when he was sixteen.
You didn’t get it fixed until much later, right, Alex? Why? Was it when you took charge of your family’s business in New York?She could find the doctor who repaired his earlobe if he denied it, and Tommy Maitland could get the police report on Teresa Jacobs, the girl who went missing at Bennington, just as Serena did at the Delta Rho Phi rave.
