When she answered the bell, Father Frank followed her into the modest living room, which was scrupulously neat. She invited him to sit down and pointed at a large overstuffed chair that reminded him of the furniture in his grandmother’s house.
“That was Jack’s favorite chair,” Marge said. “After his grandmother died, Jack brought it home.”
“It’s very comfortable, Marge.”
“I’m sorry, Father. I’m talking about furniture because I’m too nervous to talk about the reason I asked you to come over.”
“Marge, I was planning to call you. I think I know what you want to talk about.”
“It’s not right for me to keep quiet while Alan Crowley is in so much trouble.”
Father Frank remained silent to allow her to continue.
Marge bit her lip. “Since I spoke to you, I have asked Jamie twice to tell me what he saw the night of Kerry’s party. Both times he repeated that Alan kissed Kerry and then went home.” She looked away as though gathering strength. “I know in my heart of hearts Jamie never would have hurt Kerry. I have to tell the police what I know.”
“Marge, you are making the right decision.” Father Frank tried to conceal the relief he felt that Marge had reached that conclusion on her own.
“Father, I don’t have any money. Obviously, neither does Jamie. I understand there are lawyers that will help people like us for free.”
“Do you mean public defenders?”
“Yes, if that’s what they call them. I’d like to speak to one now, before I talk to the police about Jamie.”
“Marge, from what I understand, it doesn’t work that way. They will make a public defender available to someone who has been accused of something. I don’t think they can help you before then.”
“I have ten thousand dollars in my savings account. Will that be enough for a lawyer?”
“Marge, I don’t know a lot about how much lawyers charge. I do know that one of our parishioners, Greg Barber, is a very good attorney. For much less than his usual fee, he has worked with our parishioners who needed his help. If you would like, I’ll reach out to him for you.”
“I would appreciate it so much.”
“I’ll speak to him this evening. I know he’ll want to help you.”
That evening Father Frank phoned Greg’s home. Greg’s wife told him he was finishing a case in Atlanta and would return in four days. She gave Father Frank his cell phone number. Father Frank immediately called Greg, who promised that he would try to help Marge and asked that she call his office the day he got back.
Father Frank called Marge and told her about the lawyer’s schedule. They both agreed that she should wait to speak to him before contacting the police. He would remain in touch with Alan Crowley to make sure he was all right. Hopefully, a few more days would not make any difference.
53
The seminar, as promised, concluded promptly at 8:30. Aline was happy she had decided to go. The presenters had offered interesting insights about how some student athletes turn sports, which should be a stress reliever, into an additional source of stress. The problem was often made worse by parents and coaches who focus solely on winning.
The small auditorium appeared to be about half-filled. As she was standing up to leave, Aline looked around. She was relieved when she did not recognize anyone she knew.
As they started to walk outside, Scott said, “Now for the $64,000 question.” His hands pretended to do a drumroll. “I know a wonderful Italian restaurant nearby. And I promise I won’t practice my fractured French on you.”
“I enjoyed brushing up on my French.”
She followed him to a restaurant that was less than a mile away and pulled up next to him in the parking lot. When she got out of her car, he was holding up a wine carrier with two bottles. “It’s a bring-your-own restaurant. I brought a Chardonnay and a Pinot Noir, just in case you said yes.”
Once inside, Scott ordered from the menu in surprisingly good Italian.
“You didn’t tell me you know Italian as well.”
“My grandmother was from Italy. She loved to talk to me in Italian. Fortunately, I remember most of it.”
“You are a man of many hidden talents,” Aline said, smiling.
“My mother would often say that to me. And then my aunt would always chime in, ‘If you’re so damn smart, why ain’t you rich?’?”
The calamari and the veal were excellent. Their conversation glided easily from politics to favorite movies. When they were finishing their cappuccinos, Aline brought up a topic that had been in the back of her mind all evening.
“Scott, I’ve been meaning to ask you about a student I’m really concerned about. I’m sure you know her because she played varsity lacrosse.”
“Who are you worried about?”
“Valerie Long, the girl who transferred to Saddle River last January. I met with her parents today.”
“It sounds serious. What’s wrong?”
“She appears to be withdrawn and depressed. One of her teachers has already spoken to me about her appearing distracted.”
“I’m so sorry to hear this.”
“The reason I bring it up is, as her coach, you got to work closely with Valerie last spring. Is she in any of your math classes?”
“No, not this year.”
“What was your impression of her when you coached her?”
“Frankly, she’s a kid with two personalities. On the sidelines she is shy, often standing someplace off by herself. Put her in the game and she goes into attack mode. She’s the most aggressive player on the field.
“But when the game’s over, it’s back to quiet and timid. She was the only sophomore on the varsity squad. I know Kerry tried particularly hard to make her feel included.”
“Was Valerie close to any of the other girls?”
“Not really. I tried to be, what’s the word, available to her. But she kept me at a distance as well.”
“Do you see her often in school now?”
“Lacrosse isn’t until the spring, so I don’t see her every day like I used to. We’ll pass in the hallway and say hi to each other. Nothing really beyond that.”
“Okay. I’m just trying to figure out a way to get through to her.”
“I’ll try to help, engage her in conversation. Maybe she’ll open up to one of us.”
“Thanks. And thank you again for dinner.”
54
As Nancy Carter glanced out her kitchen window, she found it hard to believe how quickly the last two weeks had flown by. She and her husband Carl had agreed that he would take their son Tony to Alaska on a fishing trip. It would be a break in every sense of the word. Workaholic Carl would see that his partners at his civil engineering firm were perfectly capable of running the business while he was away. Tony would break his habit of constantly being on social media by leaving his cell phone home. Carl had brought his phone, with the understanding that Nancy would contact them only in the event of a dire emergency.
And, she admitted to herself, although she dearly loved her husband, it was a nice break for her.
But in the two weeks they were away, Nancy wondered if she should have let Tony know that Kerry Dowling had been murdered.
Tony had gone to Saddle River High School for two years and was about to start at Choate, the famous boarding school in Connecticut, where he would do his junior and senior year. He and Kerry had known each other from the time they had been in student government together. Nancy knew he would be very sad to hear of her death and learn that he had missed her wake and funeral. That was precisely why she had decided not to tell him about what happened to her while he was away.
She had checked the United Airline app. Their flight had landed in Newark on time. The sound of car doors opening and closing in the driveway announced their arrival.
After hugs all around and carrying in their gear, they sat at the kitchen table.
Carl introduced the conversation Nancy had been so concerned about. “So, did we miss anything while we were away?”