In Hope's Shadow

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Ben rose to his feet. “I’m guessing you know Joel as well as any teacher here at the high school. I appreciate your assessment of his character.”

  “You remember it.”

  Ben offered his hand. The coach grudgingly shook it.

  Boys were hurriedly dressing, some still emerging from the shower room, others stuffing their PE uniforms in lockers and slamming them. Aware of stares, Ben made his way out, crossing an open courtyard and reentering the main building. He’d been told Bruce Golzynski, wrestling coach and government teacher, had a planning period next. To be sure to catch him, Ben wanted to be outside his classroom before the bell rang.

  He just made it, and was glad to be able to flatten his back to the wall when the flood tide of students poured into the hall. Unlike with freeway traffic, kids going one way didn’t stay to the right, kids going the other way to the left. Instead, it was the same, mad jostle he recalled from high school. Then, he hadn’t noticed the scrawny kids struggling to avoid being trampled underfoot. Now, he shook his head. High school was no picnic.

  He earned some glances, but Gavin Shaffer, strolling out of Golzynski’s classroom, didn’t see him. Somehow, space opened up for him. Ben watched as a phalanx of other good-looking boys fell in behind him and girls all sneaked looks at him. His blond hair shone. He was the kind of kid all the others wanted to be, which meant plenty of them hated him. The arrogance in his stride said, It’s all about me.

  Yeah, Ben could see why Eve disliked the boy. But cocky and insensitive didn’t translate to cold-blooded killer. A lot of decent people had been cocky and insensitive as teenagers.

  When Ben saw his chance, he entered the classroom, to find the teacher sitting at his desk, a pile of papers in front of him. When he heard the door click closed, he glanced up.

  Ben introduced himself and explained that he was gathering background on a couple of boys as part of an ongoing criminal investigation.

  Turned out Golzynski had heard about Joel’s arrest. “Don’t know that I can see it.” But he shrugged. “He’s withdrawn. Sullen-looking sometimes.”

  Which also didn’t translate to cold-blooded killer. But his analysis also suggested not everyone thought Joel Kekoa was too sweet for words.

  Golzynski had been hired as a social studies teacher, he explained when Ben asked, but a few years back had taken on the wrestling team, as well. He’d been a high school wrestler himself. He wouldn’t have been big enough to play basketball or football, even in a small high school, but even now had a lean build that suggested a wiry strength. Although prematurely balding, he probably wasn’t older than early thirties, at a guess.

  When Ben mentioned Gavin’s name, Golzynski’s expression became cautious.

  “He was new this year, you know.”

  “I am aware,” Ben agreed, stretching out his legs. He’d chosen to sit in a student desk in the first row.

  “With his record, I considered myself lucky to get him for the wrestling team.”

  Past tense, which was interesting.

  “How’d he do this year?” Ben asked. Wrestling was a winter sport.

  “He’s good. Quick, strong. Wants to win real bad. Team made it to the regional finals, and Gavin was part of the reason why.” His tone had a constraint as interesting as that use of the past tense.

  Did wants to win real bad translate to has a killer instinct? “What weight class is he?” Ben asked mildly.

  “One hundred fifty-two pounds.”

  That was about what Ben would have guessed. Gavin was maybe five foot ten, a couple of inches shorter than Ben was, and would probably gain more bulk given a few more years. He might even grow a little taller. Nonetheless, he was a lightweight compared to Joel, who without carrying any noticeable fat had to weigh in over two hundred pounds.

  “I see you have him in class, as well,” Ben remarked.

  “I do.”

  “Can you give me your impressions of him?”

  Golzynski hesitated. “Can you tell me what this is in relation to?”

  “I’d rather not at this point. He is not accused of a crime.” He paused, hoping the teacher heard the subtext. Yet. “What I’m hoping is to get a sense of his character. I can promise what you tell me won’t go in any police reports. It’s useful background information, that’s all.”

  Expression troubled, Golzynski said, “Nobody wants to admit it, but teachers all have favorite students, and we have students we don’t like. I do my damnedest to hide my feelings either way. I don’t let them influence my grading.”

  “Understood.”

  “Gavin is smart, and he turns in his work. Every so often, I catch his sneer. He’s two-faced.”

  “Looked like he’s popular with his peers,” Ben said, nodding toward the hall.

  “He has his fans. Didn’t take him any time last fall to become one of the big men on campus. The girls buzz around him.”

  “I saw that,” Ben agreed.

  “But I’m not so sure he’s liked. Got to say, he has a nasty tongue and excels at making a laughingstock out of anyone who annoys him. Beyond that, I don’t know. Sometimes, though, I have the sense...” He hesitated, flushing. “I shouldn’t say this, but I will. Everyone walks softly around him. I don’t know what he’s done.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “I appreciate your frankness. You’ve confirmed what I heard from at least one other source.”

  Golzynski now appeared deeply uneasy. Probably regretting having said as much as he had, he couldn’t—or didn’t want to—suggest anyone else Ben might talk to. Ben repeated his thanks and left, glad to escape the building before the next bell rang.

  Tomorrow, he decided, he’d visit Cascade High School and, depending on what he learned, possibly the middle school Gavin had attended. He’d like to talk to some of Gavin’s former neighbors, too.

  The contrast between what the coaches had said about the two boys was striking. Walking out to his car, Ben shook his head in disbelief. Had he let his investigation be manipulated by a kid?

  Everyone walks softly around him.

  No, he wouldn’t jump to any conclusion. After all, Golzynski hadn’t much liked Joel, either. And Ben himself had found him to be sulky during their lengthy interview.

  That said...if Gavin Shaffer had murdered that old man, he was going down.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I’M GLAD YOU stopped by,” Kirk Lawson said in his mild way, as he and Eve walked down the alley leading behind his autobody shop. They detoured around Dumpsters and a delivery truck backed up to the carpet store, ignored trash the wind had blown up against the chain-link fence. Beyond the fence were detached garages and peeks into backyards.

  “I wanted to talk to you without Mom around,” she admitted. “It’s such a nice day, I got a craving for tacos.”

  He chuckled at that. Only Eve knew how often he cut through the alley to buy lunch from the taco truck that parked most days in a vacant lot at the corner. Mom worried about his cholesterol and would have disapproved. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, Eve figured. Too late today anyway—he and Eve had already purchased their lunch, which he carried in a white paper bag.

  The break room for his business, such as it was, consisted of a couple of molded plastic lawn chairs placed on the asphalt just outside the door, some piled cinder blocks serving as makeshift tables. Mostly, the young employees came out here to smoke, rain or shine.

  Today was balmy, even for the third of April. A forsythia on the other side of the alley poked branches covered with bright yellow flowers through the wire links of the fence. Eve had seen viburnums in bloom already, too, along with crocuses and snowdrops. The forsythia failed to make the alley an attractive picnic spot, but when Eve was troubled, she felt more comfortable here than she did in the home
where she’d grown up. Here she could talk to her Dad.

  Plus, these were the best tacos in the world.

  He went inside and returned with cold sodas from the machine available to employees and customers. While he was gone, Eve had moved the coffee can serving as an ashtray a distance away, although the stale smell of smoke lingered.

  The two of them sat, each unwrapping a taco. It was Dad who said, “Something on your mind, Eve?”

  “Don’t I ever visit you just for the pleasure of your company?” she said lightly.

  He smiled at her, his eyes kind. “Sure you do. But I can tell the difference.”

  She sighed. “I had a huge blowup with Ben last night. It...had to do with some of my insecurities.”

  “Hope.”

  “She’s part of it.” She told him what Ben had said, and was gratified by the spark of anger in her dad’s eyes.

  “Maybe he was right to ask,” she said finally, so quietly it was as if she was talking only to herself.

  “Of course he wasn’t!” Kirk snapped, with rare forcefulness. “Have you ever given any thought at all to the race or skin color of the kids whose welfare you oversee?”

  “No.” She thought she was being honest. “I mean, it’s sometimes a factor in their placement.”

  He nodded, understanding. Their rural county was primarily white, but with an increasing population of Mexican and Central American immigrants. Black and Asian families were rare.

  “It wasn’t race he was talking about anyway. It was...not belonging. And Ben is right that Joel’s situation had some parallels with mine.” In the long hours of the night, she’d had to admit he’d seen something that hadn’t occurred to her.

  “Eve, to start with, I don’t think it would have mattered what Hope looked like. Your mother doesn’t want to see it, but I don’t know how you could have helped but feel overshadowed by Hope.” He shook his head. “Her being blonde and blue-eyed, what difference does that make?”

  “It’s—” She had to stop, bite her lip, start again. “She looks like you and Mom. I don’t.”

  And there it was, the raw truth.

  Her dad had the blue eyes he’d passed onto his daughter, but he wasn’t a handsome man. His craggy face looked well worn, she’d always thought.

  “You always had the promise of beauty, even when you came to us.” Not looking at Eve, he smiled as if he was seeing that wild-haired, terrified little girl. “Your mom and I, we didn’t care one iota what color your eyes were. We wanted a little girl who needed us.”

  She had to say this. “I always thought you asked for a child who didn’t look like Hope. So I wouldn’t remind you too much.”

  She saw grief on his face now. “No, Eve. It was probably better you didn’t look like her, but we wouldn’t have turned you away if you had. We loved you right away.”

  “I always thought—” Her throat closed up again. She had always thought so many things. She sneaked a peek to see the sadness she’d awakened in this man she loved so much.

  “What did you think, Eve?” he asked gently.

  “That I was supposed to be, I don’t know, a substitute. But I hadn’t been enough for either of my parents, so I knew nothing I could ever do would be good enough to make up for not being Hope for you, either.”

  He had an uneaten taco in his hands. Now he set it down. “I have never, for one minute, been disappointed in you, Eve. Can’t imagine I ever will be. I can’t deny we mourned for Hope. I guess we were too obvious about it.” He didn’t say, especially your mother, even though they both knew it was true. “But we didn’t measure you against her. How could we? We didn’t know her at nine or ten or fifteen or twenty. She stayed a little girl in our minds.”

  “Until she came home.”

  “Having our first daughter back, that means the world to us. But it doesn’t change how we feel about you at all. Truth is—” he hesitated, lines deepening on his forehead “—and I wouldn’t say this in front of Bailey, but you’re woven into our lives in a way she can’t ever be. All those thousands of memories, the fights—” he smiled at that “—the proud moments, the silly ones, we’ll always have those, and we don’t with Bailey. Doesn’t mean we don’t love her and aren’t grateful every minute that we’ll have a chance to be her parents again, but you’re ours in every way. I thought you knew that.”

  She suddenly became aware that tears streamed down her face. “I do,” she wailed. “It’s just sometimes—”

  He laughed. “We all get mixed up. Come here.”

  He stood, pulled her up, wrapped his arms around her and let her sob against him. Nothing in the world was more comforting than his smell, the rumble of that chuckle, his business logo embroidered on the chambray shirt that soaked up her tears. Most of her tears over the years had been shed on this shirt or an identical one.

  “Daddy,” she whispered.

  She pulled herself together at last. They finished their tacos and talked a little more, some about Joel, some about Bailey, and a little bit about her mother. Eve knew he’d never criticize his wife, but he said a few things that confirmed her belief he’d seen enough to understand the tension between her and Mom.

  At the end, he said, “If he apologizes, you might want to think about forgiving Ben.”

  She stared at him in shock. “Why would I?”

  “Because I’m thinking he’s used to asking hard questions of people, trying to figure out what drives them. Maybe he did what he thought he had to.”

  She shook her head. “He couldn’t have said anything like that unless on some level he holds me in contempt. In a way, I can’t blame him. I’ve allowed myself to feel so much resentment. But you understand and still love me. You wouldn’t have needed to ask that question. He understands and still had to ask.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

  Eve forced a smile and rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “My ever-wise father.”

  He looked troubled, but let her go. He’d said so much that was healing, but he would never understand what it had done to her to know that people always looked at her family and wondered how she fit in. She had hungered so for that sense of belonging. And there Ben was, saying the words that told her he 100 percent got it.

  The outsider, darker-skinned. Biological child, blond, handsome, favored. Anyone looking at them would know.

  Hope’s reappearance had resurrected feelings Eve had thought she’d long since overcome. She’d had her moments, emotions rising like ghosts from the past. But she’d told her dad the truth today: she had felt loved by her parents. Especially by him. A few petty moments did not mean she’d let her insecurity growing up warp her.

  Obviously, Ben thought differently. That was what hurt most.

  * * *

  BEN PUSHED HIS chair back and rose to his feet. After shoving his weapon in his holster, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair.

  Seth, who had just hung up the phone, glanced over his shoulder. “You going to lunch?”

  “I’ll probably grab something on the way, but I’m visiting Cascade High School in Everett. Hoping to talk to some teachers and coaches, maybe some kids, who knew Gavin Shaffer.”

  “Shaffer?” Seth looked blank.

  Ben reminded him who Gavin was.

  “Why are you looking into his background?” Seth looked surprised.

  “Eve has been uneasy about him from the beginning. She thinks he resented Joel. Might have started this shit with the goal of getting rid of him.”

  Seth clasped his hands behind his head and scrutinized Ben, who had paused by his desk. “The victim was convinced Joel was tormenting him. The murder weapon had Joel’s fingerprints on it. It was hidden in his locker.”

  “It was his bat. It would have had his fingerprints on it no matter what. There were n
one on top of the blood. And putting it in his locker could have been a setup.”

  “So.” Seth sounded incredulous. “Have you looked seriously into Joel’s background? Or are you depending on what Eve’s told you about the kid?”

  Ben’s irritation was checked only because he could see the justification in Seth’s questions. “Today, I interviewed teachers at the high school about both Joel and Gavin.” But wasn’t my real goal to find support for Eve’s belief?

  No answer.

  “There must be a dozen teenage boys within a couple-block radius of Rowe’s home,” Seth continued. “So why Gavin in particular?”

  “I’ve checked out other neighbors, too. But what I heard today raised some red flags where Gavin is concerned.”

  “All right,” Seth said slowly. “But I think I need to say this. I know how much pressure Eve is capable of applying to protect one of ‘her’ kids. Given your relationship, watch your step. Be sure you’re thinking like a cop, not her boyfriend.”

  Ben stared in disbelief that was a thin covering for his fear that Seth was right about his motivation, even though he wasn’t Eve’s boyfriend. Not anymore. My fault.

  He struggled for his usual detachment. Eve didn’t like Gavin. One teacher at the high school didn’t like him, either.

  Everyone walks softly around him.

  “Gavin had the same advantage of proximity that Joel had,” he said. “I’ve learned enough about him. I’d be irresponsible if I didn’t follow up.”

  Seth let his hands fall to his sides and nodded. “Okay. Go forth and do your job.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Gritting his teeth, Ben walked out. He bounded down the stairs, shoved through the swinging half door and stalked across the parking lot to his sheriff’s deputy car.

  Behind the wheel, he made himself take some deep breaths. He felt more like burning rubber, which wasn’t smart.

  Instead, he gripped the steering wheel with both hands, flexing, loosening, flexing, loosening.

  Goddamn. What if Seth was right? Had he done a one-eighty not because Gavin was a real possibility, but because he felt guilty for what he’d said to Eve?