The club manager had confirmed that Eric didn't show for work that day. Which meant he'd likely been killed in the early morning hours when it was still dark out.
"Where were you and Mr. Armstrong that day?"
"We were both home. Ted was working out back in his shed. He does woodworking as a hobby, mostly wooden boat models. He loves working on boats of all sizes."
"Does he own a boat?"
"He keeps a small dinghy down at the pond. Ted also loves to fish. He'll disappear for hours sometimes, just sitting out there in his boat waiting for a fish to come by."
At that, the front door opened and Ted walked in. He looked surprised and not overjoyed to see Jack engaged in conversation with his wife.
"What's going on?" he asked gruffly as he shook off his coat and stepped out of his work boots.
"Hi honey. Jack was just asking a few more questions."
"What's left to ask? Didn't we cover everything the other day?"
"We just don't want to miss anything. We're determined to find who did this to your son, Mr. Armstrong."
"Good. We just about done then?"
"Just about. Oh, do you golf, Mr. Armstrong?"
"Used to. Not so much anymore, too busy. Why is that important?"
"Just wondering how Eric became interested in it. I heard he was pretty good."
Ted puffed his chest out a bit at that and his voice sounded a little friendlier. "Taught him myself when he turned five. We used to spend a lot of time together on the course." Jack decided to end the conversation on a high note.
"Well, I think we're good for now. Thank you both for your time." He stood up and turned toward the door. Judith jumped up to open it for him.
"We're glad to help and appreciate everything that you're doing. Don't hesitate to call again if you need anything else."
"I'll be sure to do that. Good night."
Jack walked back to his car and glanced back at the house. The shed door was ajar and he could see what looked like half of a small wooden boat on a workbench. He wondered what his real boat looked like. Neither of the Armstrong’s was considered a suspect, although their only alibis were each other. Technically, they still needed to be officially ruled out. He'd have to go get a look at that boat on Pine Pond for starters.
Chapter Fourteen
Lauren almost ran a red light on her way home. She just couldn't get there fast enough. She was sill sniffling as she pulled into her parking spot and ran into the house. She threw her stuff down on the kitchen table and went upstairs to draw a bath, and added a generous amount of bubble bath to the water as it poured in. One of her favorite ways to unwind after a stressful day or when she was really upset about something was to sink into a relaxing, hot bath.
She undressed and dipped a toe in the water. It was just hot enough and she stepped in and sat back with her head leaning against the side of the tub. She tried to empty her mind and just let the warm water wash over her. It felt wonderful and she lost track of how long she had laid there. She didn't want to get out of the tub—it was so nice to just float and think of absolutely nothing. But eventually, the water started to cool and the troublesome thoughts began to creep back in.
How bad was this going to get? She knew from personal experience that it didn't always matter so much whether someone was guilty or not. Once word got out that she was even considered a 'person of interest', there would be many who would consider her guilty as charged. Where there's smoke, there's fire, you know. Since the media vans were there today, she knew that her life was about to change.
She'd be on the news tonight and in the papers tomorrow morning. It didn't matter that she wasn't an official suspect, or that they had no real suspect or any evidence to tie her to anything. It was becoming public knowledge that she was being looked at, and that alone would be damning. She wondered what it would mean for her job. There were bound to be parent protests, and in a way, she couldn't blame them. If she were in their shoes, she'd be concerned too.
Reluctantly, Lauren eased out of the tub and wrapped herself in a thick soft towel. Half an hour later, with shiny dry hair and in her favorite velour sweats and a big fisherman knit sweater, she padded downstairs and poured herself a small glass of chardonnay. David had called earlier and said he'd bring home some Thai takeout. She figured she had about an hour before he arrived and could probably get through grading most of the stack of papers she'd brought home.
Almost exactly an hour later, she finished grading her last paper and put the stack back in her bag to bring in to work the next day. It was a few minutes before six, so she clicked on the TV, dreading the evening news, but knowing she needed to know what she'd be dealing with tomorrow.
David came in the door just as the news started. Lauren got a couple of paper plates and they settled on the living room sofa with the takeout cartons lined up on the coffee table. They dug in as the broadcast started, and sure enough, it didn't take long for the coverage to begin. In fact, Lauren was the lead story for the night.
Mary Piper, a perky, twenty-something brunette with a gleaming smile and perfectly styled hair started things off: "Tonight we're bringing you the latest on the shocking disappearance and murder of a young Waverly teen. His teacher, Lauren Stanhope is officially a 'person of interest' as there seems to be some question as to whether or not the two were having a romantic relationship. They were admittedly meeting secretly after class and Eric's grades took a sudden upturn in the past few weeks. We spoke with the teacher, Lauren Stanhope, earlier today and have live coverage of her statement after the break."
"You spoke to them?" David put down his fork and looked at Lauren in surprise. "Why would you do that?"
"I felt like I had to. If I hadn't said anything, they would have shown coverage of me running away from them, looking guilty. This way I stood up for myself. I was pretty upset."
After the break, they aired the video of Lauren. She cringed at the crazed hunted expression on her face and wondered if she'd done the right thing. Maybe she should have kept quiet, said nothing and waited for it to all blow over.
"I didn't realize how bad they were," David said as the segment ended and the weather forecast began. "I think you did the right thing. They would have worn you down eventually. Better to come out fighting, I think."
"I don't know," Lauren said doubtfully. "I looked a little unhinged."
"You looked upset and who wouldn't be? I don't understand how they can air stuff like this, to put it out there that you are a suspect when they have no evidence of anything. It seems wrong."
"But I'm not a suspect, I'm a 'person of interest', which is significantly different, yet I doubt most people watching the broadcast will realize that. They'll just assume I'm guilty of something."
They finished eating in silence and when done, David leaned back and said, "Let's go away this weekend, get out of town and just relax. Maybe go to that bed and breakfast up in Maine you've mentioned before. We can eat lobster, have blueberry pancakes for breakfast, and forget about all this insanity for a few days.
"That sounds heavenly. First, I have to get through tomorrow. Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday." Lauren also knew she was going to have to share something with David that was a chapter she’d long ago shut the door on. More than once, she had considered telling him about what had happened nearly twenty years ago, but that was something from her past that wasn’t relevant now and things were so good between them. Lauren just wanted to forget that awful night and the aftermath that followed.
Chapter Fifteen
Lauren expected that the media vans might be at the school again; what she didn't anticipate was that they'd be parked right outside her condo, waiting to pounce the minute she walked outside.
This time she chose to ignore them. There was nothing further she had to say and she sensed that anything she said wasn't likely to help her and would just give them more of an opportunity to make her look horrible on air. So, she kept her head down, refusing to give them any k
ind of a camera shot and hurriedly made her way to her Honda Civic, then sat there steaming, waiting for one of the vans to move since she was completely blocked in. While she was waiting, the cameramen and reporters swarmed around her car, knocking on the window to get her attention, trying to get her to look their way, but instead, she put her sunglasses on and looked straight ahead. As soon as the van moved out of the way, she pulled out.
There was only one van parked outside the school, so she was able to avoid them easily, hurried right inside and went to the cafeteria to get a coffee. She'd been so rattled and eager to get away from the media that she'd forgotten to stop for her usual Starbuck’s fix. Once she had her coffee, she headed to her office and found Amy waiting there for her. She handed Lauren copies of both the local and Boston papers. Lauren glanced at the covers and then immediately felt faint. She grabbed onto the side of the desk and then sat in her chair.
"Are you all right? You look as white as a ghost."
"I'm ok. I knew there'd be coverage today, but I didn't expect that." They both looked at the front covers where Lauren's picture was front and center, and her name in giant bold letters. The local paper wasn't as sensationalistic as the Boston one, which had more of a tabloid look to it. The headline made both of them cringe, "Forbidden love affair gone bad?" and below that in just slightly smaller letters, "Did this single teacher turn to murder to cover up her relationship with an underage student?"
"Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?" Lauren was dreading facing her first class. "I'll have to say something to the students, reassure them this is nothing but speculation and that there's no truth to it."
"Let's discuss that. If you could, please come by my office for a moment, Lauren." Emily Morehouse, school principal was standing in the doorway.
"I'll catch up with you later," Amy said as Lauren got up to go to the principal’s office.
Lauren had always admired Emily Morehouse. She was a warm, smart and funny woman who had been principal for over ten years. The teachers loved her and the students respected her. Emily walked back to her office and Lauren joined her a few minutes later.
“Please, have a seat," Emily said as she shut the door firmly behind them and then sat down at her desk, facing Lauren.
"We need to handle this carefully." She began. "As you can imagine, I've had a number of calls already from concerned parents. I've reminded them that you have not been charged with any kind of a crime—that you are just being questioned along with many others as the police seek to find whoever did this."
"Emily, I can assure you that there's nothing to this..."Emily put her hand up.
"I know. I've talked with Betty, and she filled me in on how the two of you had discussed Eric and that he was hesitant to meet with her, afraid that it would get back to his parents. I also know that his talking to you obviously was helping. His grades were showing marked improvement."
"He was having trouble focusing at home. I suggested he get out of the house more, go to the library or to a friend's to study."
“I think, instead of you speaking with each class, I will make an announcement during home room, letting the students know that you have our complete support and that they should disregard the rumors swirling in the media. Let me know if you run into any problems.”
"Thank you. I will. I really appreciate your support, it means a lot to me."
"You're important to us, Lauren. I've always been a firm believer in dealing with facts, not speculation."
The rest of the day passed in a somewhat uncomfortable blur. Lauren sensed the confusion emanating from her students. Despite the principal's announcement, many were unsure and curious if there was anything to the rumors. She overheard bits and pieces of conversation as she passed through the halls.
"I heard the wedding's off, that her fiancé caught them together."
"I thought Eric was gay, who knew?"
"Miss Stanhope is as straight as an arrow, no way there's anything to this."
"Man, how did Eric do it? She's hot!"
When the last bell rang, signaling the end of school for the day, Lauren wrapped things up quickly and then stopped by Amy's office.
"I'm glad that's over." She said.
"You're all set to go already? I still have a few things to finish up."
"No problem, I'll catch up with you on Monday. David's taking me away for the weekend. I am really looking forward to it.” She told Amy about the Bed and Breakfast in Maine.
"That sounds heavenly. Mark and I went up there about six months ago. You're going to love it. Don't even think about the madness down here. It'll do you good."
"That's what I'm counting on."
Chapter Sixteen
David was having the longest golf game of his life. Randy had called earlier in the week and suggested they get together Friday afternoon for a round of golf at the club. He tried to demur, saying he was going away for the weekend and had too much to get done before he left. But then Randy threw out his trump card. "Billy and Chuck are in and they said they're looking forward to it and to tell you they'll be expecting you to be there.”
So for over two hours now they'd been listening to the Randy show—non-stop chatter about his many successes and plans for the future. Billy and Chuck seemed genuinely interested, impressed even, but David kept checking his watch. He was eager to finish up and get on the road with Lauren. He was glad that no one had mentioned anything about her or the Eric Armstrong murder. It was the last thing he felt like talking about, especially with Randy and his partners.
"So, David, where did you say you and Lauren are off to this weekend?" Billy asked as they approached the 18th hole.
"Kennebunkport, Maine. There's a bed and breakfast Lauren has been dying to go to."
"How is Lauren doing? Holding up okay?" Chuck asked.
"She's good, looking forward to a weekend away though."
"How long have you two been dating?" Randy had a curious look on his face.
"Just about two years now."
"That's not a very long time though, is it? I mean to really know everything about a person?"
"What are you getting at?" David felt his jaw clench.
"Nothing, not a thing at all. Just thinking out loud. I've been married for ten years now and still keep learning things about my wife; things I never would have guessed years ago. She went through a shoplifting phase when she was in high school. All her friends were doing it, but she was the one who got caught. Ended up doing community service or something so it wouldn't go on her record. I'm just saying—there might be things you don't know about her."
"Lauren's a great girl," Billy interjected as he saw the anger flash in David's eyes and shot him a look warning him to stay calm.
"I think I know everything I need to know about Lauren," David said quietly.
"Hey, I'm sure you do. You have a good weekend now." Randy turned to the other two men, "All right then. Great game. Who's ready for a cocktail? David...one for the road?"
"I'd love to," he lied. "But I have to get going since Lauren wants to try and get up north before dark."
Chapter Seventeen
The ride up to Kennebunkport was a relaxing one. David drove and they left early enough that they managed to miss the rush hour crush. By an unspoken agreement, they didn't talk about the Eric Armstrong case once. They listened to all their favorite CD's—Pearl Jam, the Stones, Billy Joel and Elton John, and Lauren's newest discovery The Fray. It was just getting dark as they entered Kennebunkport and found their bed and breakfast, The Road's End.
Amy had raved about this place when she and Mark came here back in the spring for their anniversary. As they stepped inside, and walked toward the front desk, Lauren felt a wave of peace wash over her. The atmosphere was wonderful and calming. There were thick scented candles placed around the lobby area and she picked up a hint of vanilla or a freshly baked cake. The inn was lovely and beautifully decorated with delicate patterned wallpaper in soothing colors of so
ft blue and sea foam green, accented with cream painted wood. An older woman with a preppy salt-and-pepper bob and fashionable reading glasses, sat at the front desk and smiled as they walked in.
"Welcome to The Road's End. I'm Ethel Murphy. May I help you?" She asked in a distinctive Maine twang.
"We have a reservation, under David Landers."
"Of course. Yes, here we are. Oh, and you're in luck. We had a cancellation for this weekend for our honeymoon suite, so we put you in there. I thought it was appropriate as Mr. Landers mentioned that you're due to be married in a few weeks."
"That's wonderful," Lauren exclaimed. And it was. Ethel showed them to the suite which was on the second floor, overlooking downtown and the harbor. There was a gas fireplace, which cast a warm rosy glow over the already cozy room. The bed was a queen-sized sleigh bed of dark wood, topped with a pile of plump pillows and fluffy down comforter with a matching coverlet all in soft elegant shades of cream. There was a sitting room with a small sofa and table, and the bathroom was amazing. It was huge, with a Jacuzzi and a large glass door shower.
"We serve a hot breakfast from 7:00-10:00 a.m. Come down anytime during those hours. And if you need anything, at any time, call the front desk. Someone is always there. Oh, and there's a mini-refrigerator over there." Ethel pointed to a small cubby just below the main bay window and padded window seat. "There's a complementary bottle of champagne to welcome you. Enjoy your stay!"
She left the room, closing the door gently behind her. David and Lauren looked at each other and smiled. "This was such a good idea," Lauren said as she took the bottle of champagne out of the mini-fridge, opened it and poured two glasses.
David lifted his glass and tapped it against Lauren's in a toast, "To a great weekend, and to our future together."
"And to everything going smoothly at the wedding. I can't believe it's just a few weeks away." It seemed so close and yet so far.
The weekend flew by. They dined on baked stuffed lobster in the evening and enjoyed blueberry pancakes and plump sugar-topped muffins bursting with fresh blueberries at the morning breakfasts, served in the formal dining room downstairs.
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