Kenney closed his eyes as if trying to relive the moment in his mind. McCabe found it frustrating other people couldn’t visualize scenes as easily as he could. ‘Cowboy boots,’ he said finally, ‘black cowboy boots. Not many people in Maine wear ’em. Jeans, I think. A long-sleeve black polo shirt. A baseball cap.’
McCabe found it hard to imagine Spencer in cowboy boots, and he didn’t have broad shoulders. ‘Anything else you remember?’
‘Just that I told Katie not to talk to any more scouts, especially guys, without letting one of her coaches know. That it wasn’t smart.’
‘How’d she react to that?’
‘Practically rolled her eyes. Like any kid, she thought nothing bad could ever happen to her.’
‘Any word what the school’s doing as a result of her death?’ asked Maggie.
‘Not yet. My guess is the principal will declare the day of the funeral an official day of mourning and let the kids take time off to attend whatever service the family’s planning. That’s what I’d do.’
‘When was the last time you saw Katie?’
‘At practice. The day she disappeared. Wednesday before last.’
The answer seemed honest enough. Without Annie Rafferty as a witness, McCabe might have accepted it as the whole truth. Of course, McCabe knew, Rafferty might have made the whole thing up. A tired old woman, possibly dozing, in front of a bedroom window? Any defense lawyer worth his salt would jump on that and suggest that Rafferty was asleep and dreaming. Even if Rafferty was wide-awake and telling the truth, how were they going to prove the girl she saw on Kenney’s front porch was actually Katie? McCabe had to push harder. Get Kenney himself to provide the corroborating evidence. ‘You teach biology?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, sophomores and juniors. Never had Katie in class, though.’ He was on his way into the kitchen.
When he returned with another beer, Maggie said, ‘I guess you’ve done a lot of dissecting, being a biology teacher and all?’
Kenney looked at her strangely. ‘Dissecting? Sure. A zillion frogs. Sometimes fetal pigs. Sometimes things a little bigger. Why?’
McCabe wanted to see what would happen if he put on a little pressure. ‘Pretty good with a scalpel, are you?’ he asked. If Kenney was the killer, the question might rattle him, maybe make him think they were onto him.
‘What the hell is this all about?’ asked Kenney.
‘Maybe you want to tell us, Tobin?’ asked McCabe.
‘Whoa. Wait a minute. Let’s just back up here. Are you telling me I’m a suspect in all this?’
‘Suspect? Nobody said anything about suspect,’ said Maggie. ‘We’re just having a little conversation. Checking on the whereabouts of the people who knew Katie. The people she trusted.’
‘Am I under arrest or something?’
‘Come on, Tobin. Relax,’ Maggie said softly. ‘Like I said, this is just an interview, a little chat. That’s all.’
‘So maybe you can tell us what happened that night,’ McCabe said. It was his turn now.
‘What night?’ Kenney sounded worried. Defensive.
‘Well, the night Katie disappeared, of course.’
Kenney’s eyes darted back and forth between them. He didn’t say anything. McCabe figured he was thinking about lawyering up, and that’d be the end of the interview. If he was really innocent, though, he might keep talking just to prove it. ‘You got a girlfriend, Tobin?’
‘No … yeah. Well, not really. There’s this woman I see from time to time,’ said Tobin. ‘I don’t know what that has to do with any of this.’
‘Were you seeing her that night?’
‘The night Katie was killed?’
‘No. Not the night she was killed.’ McCabe leaned in toward Kenney, forcing the younger man to look up at him. ‘We can talk about that night later.’ He was speaking quietly. Calmly. One friend to another. Aware of the recorder and its little green light, there was no threat in his voice. All the threat was in his eyes, which bore in on Kenney. ‘Why don’t you just tell us about the night she disappeared? Where you were. What you were doing.’
Kenney slid his chair back an inch or two away, avoiding McCabe’s gaze, looking out toward the boat in the yard. ‘Jesus, I don’t know.’ Pause. ‘Let me think. No. Wait.’ Pause. ‘I do remember what I was doing. Yes, I do. I remember the teachers talking about Katie’s disappearance the next day at school when she didn’t show up. When she didn’t show up for practice, that’s when I got really worried. I knew she might cut her classes, but Katie would never miss practice. Never. Not unless something was really wrong. The night before,’ Kenney said, ‘I went to the movies.’
‘The movies?’ asked Maggie, with just the slightest touch of well-practiced disbelief in her voice.
‘Yes. The movies.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes. Alone – but I can prove I was there. I ran into some people I know. Another teacher at the high school, Ellen Bodine, and her husband. I’ve probably still got the ticket stub.’ Kenney seemed relieved by his response. It was as though he’d solved a difficult problem and now things were going to be alright.
‘What did you see?’ asked McCabe.