In the Shadows (The Outsiders Book 1)

by Susan Finlay

  Dave chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like Reynier.”

  Kate had personal errands to run in the morning. She told Dave she would meet him after lunch in Hampstead. Dave grabbed a quick breakfast before sitting himself in front of the hotel lobby computer to do some research on the internet. When he finished, he took in a bit of sightseeing in London proper, eventually ending up in Hampstead, where he ate lunch in one of the pubs.

  In the early afternoon Kate phoned Dave and picked him up outside the pub. They drove to Willoughby Crescent and parked on the street, about a block from the Raybournes’ house.

  “Where should we begin?” she asked. “Any idea which neighbors know the Raybourne family?”

  Dave glanced at his notes again. “Alice Rickards is the next door neighbor, but she’s in a nursing home right now. I called and tried to talk with her. Her caregiver, who lived with her, told me that Alice had gone into the hospital the day before and wasn’t home at the time of the murder. Greg and I already spoke with the neighbor on the other side, Judy Winston. She also wasn’t home at the time of the murder. She did tell us a little about Jared’s bad behavior, vandalism, etc. Ian Waitley was home, as far as I know. I guess I’d like to speak with him again.”

  “What about other neighbors?”

  “Sally Kavanaugh lives there, on the corner,” Dave said, pointing at a house. “She’s a friend of Elizabeth’s, but she wasn’t at home when Greg and I were here last, so we should talk to her if we can. Also, I was told that Nick and Jenny Hallowell from a few doors down were friends with Elizabeth and Peter. There’s another friend, Rob Carsters. He lives on the next street over.”

  “Very cozy. All right. Let’s try Sally Kavanaugh, first, and then make our way around to the others.”

  Sally Kavanaugh looked at them skeptically, until Kate showed her a business card. “Oh, I know who you are. I read an article of yours in the paper a while back. I guess I can answer a few questions.”

  She invited them inside, and showed them into the living room. As Dave sat down on a sleek black leather sofa, he looked around at a large number of black and white photos covering the walls.

  “I’m guessing you’re a photographer,” he said.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “They’re lovely photographs,” he said, indicating the walls. “Do you have an exhibit going?”

  “Thank you. I did. I hope to have another in a few months. Some of these are from the last exhibit.”

  Dave nodded as he looked around the room again, carefully viewing studies in isolated alleyways, lonely people, and bridges over the Thames River, all captured very artistically. All of the pictures were framed in shiny black or white frames.

  “This is all your work?” he asked.

  “Mine, yes, but these are not all of them. I have many rooms full of photographs. Make yourselves comfortable and look around more if you’d like while I bring some coffee, tea, and biscuits.”

  While she was in the kitchen, Dave and Kate walked around most of the ground floor of her large house. Nearly every wall was covered with her photography. One room held nude photos. This caused Dave to wonder about Sally. She was around Elizabeth’s age and attractive, shoulder-length pitch black hair, sleek and shiny. Would a sixteen-year-old be interested in her?

  Back in the living room, they sat down as Sally returned with a tray.

  “Are you interested in photography, Mr. Martin?”

  He picked up a biscuit and a cup of hot coffee, took a sip, and replied. “Actually, I am. My mother is an amateur photographer. I think she’s always wanted to make a career of it.”

  “I love my work,” she said.

  Kate sat quietly sipping a cup of tea, apparently comfortable playing the observer this time and letting Dave take the lead, because Sally seemed to prefer conversing with him.

  “Your photos are quite artistic, including the nudes. Ever photograph your neighborhood or neighbors?”

  “Maybe.” She flashed a smile at Dave, and touched her chin. “I guess I do occasionally. But if you’re asking if I ever photographed Jared, the answer is no.”

  Dave nodded. “How well did you know him and his family?”

  “I’m friends with Elizabeth. We used to have a cozy group of neighbor friends back when Peter and Elizabeth were still married. We used to get together for dinners and to play cards. We took turns at different houses.”

  “How did she take the divorce?”

  She sighed. “Elizabeth was devastated. Guess that’s not really surprising, is it?”

  “No. When I divorced I started drinking too much.”

  ”Yes— well, yes, that can happen.”

  “Did you ever go to her house after the divorce?”

  “Sure. Several times for dinners, though we more often went out.”

  Changing the subject after taking a bite of biscuit and washing it down with another sip of beverage, Dave asked, “Did Jared have any friends in the neighborhood?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” She sipped her tea and peered over the rim in a flirty kind of way, bright pink fingernails with glittery stars on them sparkling and enticing. “Well, now that you ask, possibly Brittany Stevas. I saw them together a few times.”

  “When was this?”

  “Over the last few months before Jared . . . well, you know.”

  “What were they doing?”

  She was silent and looked deep in thought. After a few moments, she said, “I’d completely forgotten about this until you brought it up, but the last time I saw them together, they were having an argument in the street. It must have been a few weeks, a month maybe, before his murder. Oh, you don’t think . . . .”

  Dave said, “Do you remember anything else about them?”

  Sally shook her head and sipped her tea.

  Dave said, “What about Robin Sutcliffe? Do you know her?”

  “Hah. I certainly do. She was Peter’s assistant, and not a very good one from what I’ve heard. But there, I’m just gossiping, I don’t really know. As Elizabeth told it, Robin was afraid she’d lose her job, so she started making advances on Peter. Well, you know the rest. That woman broke up the marriage.”

  “Elizabeth blames Robin for the breakup?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did Elizabeth or Peter confide their problems to you?”

  “Elizabeth, yes. Peter, only once or twice.”

  “Did you actually meet Robin?”

  “Yes, once at a dinner party. That was right before the break-up.”

  “What did you think of her back then?”

  She shrugged.

  “Then how do you know about Robin?”

  “Elizabeth liked to talk. That was months ago, mind you. I wasn’t sure what to actually believe about Robin, until I saw her and Jared together at the movie theatre.”

  Dave set his cup down and asked, maintaining calm, “When was that?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Was Peter with them?”

  “No. And they looked pretty cozy, too. Even shared a drink from the same straw.”

  “Did you tell Elizabeth?”

  She nodded.

  “What did she do?”

  “They had a big blow-up, Elizabeth and Robin, I mean. Robin wasn’t allowed at the house after that. It caused problems between Elizabeth and Jared, naturally.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Elizabeth resented him. He was too much like his father. I think he was a lot like Elizabeth, also, but she didn’t see it. All she saw when she looked at him was Peter.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “She rang me and wanted to go out for drinks. She ranted for hours about Robin and Jared and Peter.”

  Nick Hallowell didn’t seem at all reluctant to invite them inside. He called out to his wife, Jenny, who met them at the door, wiping her hands on her apron. “You’re just in time for refreshments,” she said. “My cake is cooled off and the tea is finished brewing. Go ahead and sh
ow these folk around, why don’t you, Nick, while I’m in the kitchen.”

  “Sure, thing, love.” He smiled, then turned to Dave and Kate. “Follow me. My wife and I love to have guests, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  He led them into the parlor and waved his hand. “Here in our parlor you can see some of our artwork and artifacts from around the world—Africa, Asia, you name it—we’ve probably been there.”

  “What kind of work do you do?” Kate asked.

  He gave a blank look for a moment, and then said, “Imports. This isn’t a hobby. We own a store where we sell these and others like them. We sell online, too.”

  Kate nodded.

  Dave thought of Jeannette Devlin whose house was filled with antiques. As they walked around from room to room, Dave was impressed. These were obviously people with good taste.

  Back in the parlor Jenny had set out a feast of tea, cake, biscuits, and even fresh strawberries. She poured four cups of tea. “Oh, Mr. Martin, you are American, yes?”

  He nodded.

  “Forgive me, we are out of coffee, I hope tea is okay? Please help yourselves to the food.” She filled her own plate with a little of each offering. Dave and Nick followed suit, but Kate merely smiled and shook her head.

  Husband and wife sat together on the sofa. Dave and Kate took the two side chairs.

  “Can you tell us about your relationship with Elizabeth and Peter Raybourne?” Kate asked.

  “We used to get together for card games once a week at different locations,” Nick said. “Sometimes we met at their house, sometimes here, or at the Randolphs’ house, Sally’s, Ian’s, or even Rob’s. The Randolphs moved away about four months ago.”

  Jenny said, “That’s right. We thought it only fair to switch off. That way, no one got stuck hosting and cooking every time. Of course, all of that was before the divorce.”

  “What happened after the divorce?”

  “We tried to stay friendly with both Elizabeth and Peter,” Nick said. “Peter was okay, but Elizabeth made it difficult. She was bitter and would gripe about Peter and his girlfriend every time we got together. Kind of ruined the evenings for us. Eventually, by group agreement, we stopped inviting them.”

  “Did you go to her house?”

  “Yes. A few times. For cards and dinners—like before.”

  Jenny said, “I do miss her. We used to be close. It’s so sad.”

  “What was her relationship with her son? Did you notice any changes in their relationship after the divorce?”

  Nick and Jenny exchanged glances. Jenny said, “The few times we saw Jared, they argued.”

  “Do you know what they argued about?”

  Nick said, “Just usual teenager-parent stuff as far as we could tell. I remember when my parents divorced. I was around the same age. My behavior was rather atrocious. It was a phase. That’s all.”

  Jenny shook her head. “Call it what you want, but their relationship wasn’t good. I wouldn’t have allowed his behavior if he’d been my son.”

  “What about Robin Sutcliffe’s relationship with Jared? Did you ever see them together?”

  Nick said, “I think we only saw them together once or twice. That was when Peter invited us over to his new home for dinner. Jared walked out in the middle of the meal. Poor Peter was embarrassed.”

  “Why did Jared do that?”

  “We don’t know. He and Robin were whispering together in the hallway, and then he left.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  Nick shrugged. “Maybe a month or two before he was killed.”

  “Did you know Maua Barrington, the woman who rented a room from Elizabeth?”

  Jenny said, “Maura, yes, sort of. She was there when we went to Elizabeth’s house for dinner. We only spoke briefly. She seemed nice, quiet.”

  “Did she eat dinner with you?”

  “No. She only came out of her room for a few minutes.”

  “Was it a large dinner party?”

  Nick shook his head. “Only the two of us, a few other neighbors came, and Elizabeth’s sister and brother-in-law.”

  They left the Hallowells’ house shortly after and walked over to the street where Rob Carsters lived. Kate pulled up her jacket collar to ward off the wind, which had become rather chilly.

  Dave zipped up his own jacket. “Did they ever find the murder weapon?”

  “I don’t think so. The post-mortem report indicated it was probably a kitchen knife, but the weapon hasn’t been recovered.”

  “Are any knives missing from the Raybourne house?”

  “Elizabeth couldn’t tell the detectives,” Kate said.

  “Why is that?”

  “Apparently, she didn’t cook much. She didn’t really know how many knives they had.”

  Dave frowned. “The Hallowells said she invited them over for dinner. Who did the cooking?”

  “That, I can’t tell you,” Kate said. “Though it seems like a good question.” She glanced sideways at Dave.

  Dave said, “I have another one for you. Why did the inspectors assume someone used a key to enter the house?”

  “I can’t answer that either,” Kate said. “All I know is that they said it didn’t look like a break-in.”

  “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean he didn’t let someone in. For that matter, he could have left the door unlocked, maybe for his mother or maybe out of laziness. Who knows?”

  Rob Carsters didn’t answer his door, and when Dave and Kate turned around to leave, they almost bumped into a man who was walking a collie up the sidewalk to the front door. The dog pulled on the leash and the man let go.

  Dave reached down and petted the dog who was wagging its tail and lapping up the attention.

  “He likes you. Were you looking for me?”

  “That depends. Are you Rob Carsters?”

  “I am.” He pulled a key out of his jacket pocket, walked past Dave and Kate and up the steps, and unlocked the door. He turned around to face them, obviously waiting for them to say something.

  Dave introduced himself and Kate. The man nodded.

  “Come on in. I don’t have anything to offer you. I’ve been running errands off and on all day. No time for domestic stuff.”

  “That’s fine,” Kate said. “We would like to ask you a few questions about your neighbors—especially the Raybourne family.”

  “I expected as much. I bumped into Brittany Stevas. We walk our dogs in the same park.”

  “Were she and Jared friends? Did they ever go out on dates?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t keep up with all the kids—who they like or don’t like, who is dating who, who just broke up. I gave up trying a long time ago.”

  Dave said, “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a science teacher. If you remember back to your high school days, I’m sure you’ll understand what kids and dating are like.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “Westglenn.”

  Dave studied him more closely. Young, maybe early to mid-thirties, brown hair, brown eyes, athletic build. What had Maurelle told him about Carsters? She thought the guy was interested in Elizabeth, but she wouldn’t go out with him. Why hadn’t Maurelle mentioned that he was a teacher at her school?

  “Did you know Maura Barrington?”

  Carsters nodded.

  “How well did you know her?”

  “We went out a couple of times. Nothing serious.”

  Avoiding Kate’s eyes, Dave said, “Why did you stop going out?”

  “Seemed like a nice woman, but we didn’t really have much in common—other than teaching and neither of us wanted to talk shop.”

  Kate said, “Were you surprised by the rumors of an affair?”

  He shrugged again, and sprawled his legs out the way Jonas Lefevre did back in Reynier when Dave visited him.

  “Was there a lot of that kind of thing going on in the school? Student-teacher romances?”

  “Like I said, I gave up on f
ollowing that stuff—whether it’s students or teachers or a mixture.”

  Dave finally dared to look at Kate. She had apparently been watching him, and a look of something verging on pity flashed in her eyes before she turned her attention back to Carsters.

  “There must be a lot of talk amongst the faculty.”

  “It’s not my business.”

  Again, Carsters reminded him of Jonas. A laid-back, devil-may-care attitude. Could he get away with murder? He wondered about Carsters and Brittany Stevas and their rendezvous in the park.

  Kate flipped a page in her notebook. She looked up and met Carsters’ eyes. “You were friends with Elizabeth and Peter, is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened after the divorce? Did you maintain those friendships?”

  “With Peter and Robin, yes.”

  “But not with Elizabeth?”

  “Not much.”

  “Did you two have a disagreement?”

  He shifted in his seat.

  “What happened between the two of you?”

  “Nothing happened. It’s just not easy staying friends with both of them.”

  Outside, on Rob’s front porch, Kate whispered, “I sure would like to know what he isn’t telling us about his relationships with Maura and Elizabeth.”

  Maurelle and Jeannette took hold of Fabienne’s arms and helped her walk back to the stone cottage, though Fabienne kept resisting. “I don’t need help. I’m feeling better.” As the house came into view, it struck Maurelle how warm and inviting it now looked. The light chocolate-colored shutters that had been tightly shut when they’d first arrived were now pulled back, and flowers graced the window boxes. Yesterday, with Fabienne fretting about the flowers she’d left behind, Maurelle had gone back to the store and bought more. She planted them, while the older women sat in their rocking chairs and watched. Two neighbors, having noticed the open shutters and flowers, had come over and cut back some of the overgrown bushes and brush. One of the neighbors, Lucien, told them that they had started performing this ritual at least twice a year in the hopes of stopping further encroachment into their adjacent lands. Jeannette and Fabienne, after ensuring that the men didn’t uncover the hidden car, had gushed over both and sent store-bought pastries home with each of them. Maurelle smiled as she remembered Fabienne closing the door behind him as they left and confessing how embarrassed she was that she hadn’t baked them something from her own kitchen.