BY THE TIME Clare caught up to them, she couldn’t tell who was more upset, Gil or Jason. Both were panting heavily after the sprint across the street and around the corner. If Clare hadn’t stepped out of the car, Jason might have made it into the house. But as soon as he eyed her and noted Gil striding his way, he’d taken off.
“Maybe you should relax your hold, Gil,” she advised.
Gil released his grip on the boy and stepped back. Clare couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen such anger in Gil Harper’s face.
Yet it wasn’t enough to intimidate Jason Wolochuk. “Wadda you want?”
The defiance in his voice was hiding something, Clare thought. Vulnerability? “Jason, I’m sure you remember me from Miss Stuart’s class. This is a friend of mine and we want to know why you left me that note.”
“What note? You two are crazy!” His face scrunched up, a mix of anger and apprehension.
“And I know you’ve been prowling around the Kingsways at night.” She paused a moment, letting that register. “The police can probably do some kind of test to link the type of marker you used in the note to you or maybe you even left fingerprints on the paper.”
His eyes dropped, but not before Clare saw the increased fear in them. “I don’t know anything about no note,” he insisted. “And I don’t prowl around people’s houses at night, either. So leave me alone!”
“Forget it, Clare. Let’s take this hotshot to the police right now.”
Now Jason looked as though he might cry. Clare felt a tad guilty about the lies they were throwing at him. But only a bit. He had, after all, wanted to frighten her a few days ago. “Did you vandalize the posters in the bookstore, too?” she asked.
That grabbed his attention. The surprise in his face suggested he hadn’t but Clare had a hunch he knew who might have. “Or maybe it was someone you know?”
He quickly shook his head but remained silent. Clare was about to suggest to Gil that they leave when the boy spoke up. “Okay, okay. I wrote the note. How much of a crime can that be? What’re the cops going to do? Lock me up?” he sneered.
“Maybe not,” Gil said. “But they might do a check on any unsolved petty crimes in town. You know—small thefts, car break-ins. That kind of thing. Once they fingerprint you, hey, it’s a whole new ball game.”
After a moment’s thought, Jason said, “I just wanted to give her a message,” he said to Gil. Then his eyes swung round to Clare. “You don’t know how much trouble you’ve caused since we first heard you were coming back here.”
“How have I given your family trouble?” Clare asked.
“Soon as my mom found out, she was on the phone yelling and screaming at my dad. Then he came over to the house—something he hasn’t done in almost a year—and they had this big fight. All because of you.”
Clare glanced at Gil and raised her shoulders, speechless.
“Maybe you should be a little clearer, pal,” Gil said. “Or maybe we can just continue this talk down at the sheriff’s office.”
“If I knew any more, I’d tell you. But I don’t. Just that it had something to do with that book you wrote. That you wrote a bunch of lies. They were scared people would believe them.”
More confused than ever, Clare turned a blank face to Gil. He looked as bewildered as she did. “So?” Gil asked her.
She shrugged. The boy appeared to be telling the truth although there was no sure way of finding out. “So you have no idea why your folks were so upset by my book?”
“I told you!”
“Okay, then, I suppose we should pay a visit to your father,” Clare said. There was little reaction from the boy, other than a slight lifting of his shoulders as if to say, “See if I care.”
Gil stepped away from Jason and said, “Be grateful we’re not pressing charges.”
Jason brushed past them, cockier now that he was out of Gil’s reach. “Go ahead, jerks!” he said. He loped across the street and turned the corner.
“Nice fella,” Gil muttered.
“Hmm,” Clare agreed. “Gil, remember that Saturday night we went for dinner with Dave and Laura? Before the christening? You walked me back to the hotel and on the way I bumped into a woman who gave me a real dirty look.”
“Yes, why?”
“I’m pretty certain she was Helen Wolochuk.”
“I guess that makes sense, if she knew you were coming to town, as Jason said.”
It made sense on one level, Clare thought, but it didn’t clear up any of the mystery around Helen and Jason’s hostile reaction to her.
By the time they got back to Gil’s car. Jason was nowhere in sight. The curtains in the bungalow where he lived with his mother were still tightly drawn. But as the car pulled away from the curb, Clare glanced once more to the house and saw the center of the curtains part ever so slightly. Just enough for a pair of eyes to witness their leaving.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLARE FLIPPED the tab on her take-out coffee and blew gently across the opening.
“Thanks for the breakfast,” she said, eyeing the bag of muffins on the seat between her and Gil. “I left in a rush.”
“Rough night?” he asked, turning briefly as he shifted into Drive and steered his car away from the curb in front of the Kingsway home. “Did Emma keep everyone up?”
“Not really.” Not Emma so much as my own doubts about the sanity of today’s mission. But Clare had a feeling if she expressed those doubts, Gil would make a sharp U-turn and deliver her back to the Kingsways. “Maybe some anxiety about things.”
His head pivoted back to her. “How so?”
Clare took a moment to edit some of last night’s conversation with Dave and Laura about the incident with Jason. They’d both been shocked, though not at learning that Jason had confessed to writing the note.
“You two were lucky he didn’t call the police,” Laura had commented.
“She’s right, Clare. The boy’s still a minor. Intimidating him the way you did could have led to a serious charge,” Dave had added.
The talk had gone downhill from there. By the time they’d finished their Chinese take-out and Emma was ready for bed, Clare had gratefully slipped off to her room to escape further discussion.
So she decided on a short version of the conversation instead.
As soon as she finished, Gil said, “They’re right, I know. I’ve been kicking myself for being such a hothead. That isn’t my normal behavior and I can’t explain it. Just something about the tough-guy act the kid gave me. His complete lack of remorse.”
“I know. I felt the same. But my experience with teenagers has taught me that sometimes cockiness is a cover for fear or insecurity. Given what we saw of Jason’s mother yesterday, I can sort of understand his resentment against the world. Still, we should direct our inquiries at his parents now.”
“Agreed.” Gil’s eyes connected with hers. He looked concerned. “So what exactly do we want to ask Stanley Wolochuk about?”
Clare sipped her coffee. She’d been thinking about that, too, in the wee hours of the morning. “Jason said his parents were upset about my book but I can’t figure out why they would be.”
“Me, neither. You don’t mention a teacher at all, let alone name Wolochuk.”
“Of course not. Why would I?”
There was a silence then, until Gil asked, “Having doubts about this trip?”
She cleared her throat, startled by his knack for mind reading. “Why do you ask?”
“That look in your face. It’s a look I remember.”
Clare averted her gaze to the road ahead. Best not to go there, she told herself. “I think it’s normal to feel apprehensive about what we’re doing. But I wonder if there’s any point in going to see Mr. Wolochuk. Didn’t you tell me that he and Rina were arguing about her chemistry mark that day?”
“Yeah. But I’ve a feeling there was something more to it than that. She seemed to be a hell of a lot more upset than she ought to have been over some ter
m paper.”
“Not if it meant she wouldn’t get into the college of her choice.”
“Maybe. But I’d like to find out, if possible.”
“What if we don’t learn anything at all from him?”
“We chalk it up to a day’s outing,” he said, and flashed a quick smile.
Clare glanced away, ostensibly to finish her coffee. She tried not to think about those other outings years ago, when Gil had borrowed his parents’ car and they would drive for hours into the countryside, searching for a private place away from the prying eyes of a small town. She leaned against the headrest and stared out at the scenery, realizing it had been a long time since she’d seen Connecticut in its entire autumn splendor. Cutting herself off from the past had also included missing out on days like this.
An hour later, the sprawling suburbs of Hartford came into sight. When they found Stanley Wolochuk’s house, they stared silently at the run-down bungalow.
“That makes his wife’s house look like a mansion,” Gil remarked.
“Hmm.” Clare was almost hoping her former teacher wouldn’t be at home.
“Ready, then?”
She took a deep breath. “Let’s go,” she said, opening the car door. They walked up the broken cement sidewalk to the front steps, which were in a similar state of disrepair.
“Definitely not a home maintenance kind of guy,” Gil said.
Clare stifled a nervous giggle. She pushed on the door buzzer and, when nothing happened, rapped on the door itself. After a long moment, the door was wrenched open.
“I told you I wasn’t interested—oh. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Then, recognizing Clare, Stan Wolochuk said, “Good heavens! Clare Morgan.” His eyes shot to Gil and he frowned. “You look familiar. A former student of mine, as well?”
“Nope, I avoided sciences. But I did go to Twin Falls High.” He extended his right hand. “Gil Harper.”
The frown deepened. He ignored Gil’s hand. “Uh-huh,” he muttered, looking from one to the other.
There was an uncomfortable moment when Clare thought Wolochuk was about to close the door in their faces. But eventually he asked, “What can I do for you?”
“We’d like to speak to you about your son, Jason,” Clare said.
He thought for a minute before opening the door farther. Something in common with his estranged wife, Clare realized. Worry over a son. “Then I guess you’d better come inside.” Unlike his ex-wife, however, he waited while they squeezed past him into a tiny entranceway and, after closing the door, he led them to the living room.
The room boasted less furniture than Helen’s, but was tidier. It also, however, reeked of stale tobacco. Clare scanned the room but failed to see an ashtray. Except for the day’s newspaper lying scattered on the sofa, there was little more in the room than the sofa, a small television sitting on a bookshelf, and a single armchair. Wolochuk gestured toward this. “Have a seat,” he said to Clare.
She did, grateful not to have to sit next to him on the sofa. There was something strange and unnatural about meeting with her former teacher in these surroundings. She watched him clear away the papers for Gil and when they were all sitting, got right to the point. “Do you recall when I was talking to you at the book signing here that I mentioned paying a visit to one of Lisa Stuart’s English classes?”
He looked puzzled. “Yes. Why?”
“You didn’t mention then that your son, Jason, was in her class.”
His mouth turned down. “It didn’t occur to me. She likely has a few classes.”
“A day or so later I found a note in the copy of my novel that I had passed around in the class.” She dug it out of her purse and handed it to him.
He gave it a quick read and raised his face to Clare and Gil. “What’s this got to do with Jason?” Then it hit him. “You’re not suggesting he wrote this note?”
“We know he wrote it, Mr. Wolochuk,” said Gil. “Because he told us he did. He also admitted to sneaking around the place where Clare has been staying in Twin Falls. At night,” he added.
The paper trembled in Wolochuk’s hand. “What’s this all about? Why are you coming to me with this?”
“Jason said he wrote the note because he’d seen you and his mother having an argument about my book.”
The note fluttered from Wolochuk’s hand to the floor. He didn’t say a word, but the redness in his face continued to deepen. The room was silent except for Wolochuk’s heavy breathing.
Clare recalled that he’d said he had a heart condition and felt a surge of alarm. “Are you okay, Mr. Wolochuk?”
He waved a hand, dismissing her concern. “Of course I am. You think I’m going to have a heart attack over Jason? I’ve had more than this to get shook up about, trust me.”
She caught Gil’s eye. “Clare and I are making some inquiries about Rina Thomas’s death, Mr. Wolochuk, and we were wondering if you could help us,” Gil interjected.
Beads of sweat broke out on Wolochuk’s forehead. He passed the back of his hand across his brow. His gaze shifted to the floor. “I don’t understand why Jason would do this,” he repeated.
“Mr. Wolochuk, we don’t mean to upset you,” Clare said. “But apparently Jason was affected by this argument you and your…uh, ex-wife had. That’s the only reason I can come up with to justify why he lashed out at me and my book. Some posters in the bookstore in Twin Falls were also vandalized.”
Stan Wolochuk was mute, shaking his head back and forth, as if trying to awaken from a bad dream.
“Do you remember the quarrel you had with Mrs. Wolochuk?” Clare prompted, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice.
He heaved a loud sigh. “My ex and I are always quarrelling. Usually about money. That is, the lack of it.” He uttered a harsh, bitter sound.
“So are you saying there was no quarrel about the book?” Gil asked.
“I haven’t finished reading the book,” he said, shrugging. “As for my wife, I doubt she’d even buy a copy. I did only because I remembered Clare.” He raised his head directly toward her.
She felt her face redden.
“Mr. Wolochuk,” Gil said, breaking the silence. “We’d appreciate it if you would speak to your son about his actions. He obviously caused some distress to Clare and, since she plans on being in town a few more days, I’m sure she’d like to feel comfortable during her stay.”
“Of course I’ll speak to him. What he’s done is inexcusable.” Wolochuk stooped over to pick up the note and then got to his feet. “I’ll call him right away.”
Clare looked at Gil. Obviously, the visit was coming to an end.
“One other thing, Mr. Wolochuk, and then we’ll be on our way.” Gil paused while the note was passed back to Clare. When he had Wolochuk’s attention, he asked, “Clare and I have been going over our memories of the day Rina Thomas was killed.”
Wolochuk stood still, his face giving nothing away.
“And uh, I was wondering what you and Rina argued about that day in your office.”
Wolochuk frowned. “I don’t recall seeing Rina that day.”
“Oh, but you did, Mr. Wolochuk,” Clare said. “I was finishing off a lab experiment, and while I was working, Rina came to see you in your office.”
“Oh? Well, if you say so.”
“Did you remember? She was very angry and you were both shouting at one another for a minute. Then she stormed out.”
“What were we shouting about?” He looked at Clare, his face impassive.
“I don’t know because the glass partitions blocked most of the sound. But you both seemed very angry.”
“The little I recall about Rina Thomas is that she was not only remiss in doing her schoolwork, but she was also hot-tempered. If we argued about anything, it was probably over some assignment she had failed to submit.” He moved toward the hallway. “I’ll see you two out.”
Clare regretted the visit, realizing it had unnecessarily upset the shell of a ma
n who had once been her teacher. She followed him into the hall, noticing on her way a bicycle propped against the wall farther along.
“Do you still cycle?” she impulsively asked.
He spun around, puzzled. “Yes, why?”
“I remember you used to ride your bike to school every day, didn’t you?”
His face softened. “Yes, I did. But then I rode it for exercise. Now, I do it to save myself some money.”
She hesitated, wanting to say something kind to the man, but thought she might sound patronizing. “Thanks Mr. Wolochuk, and sorry we had to trouble you about Jason.”
He opened the front door and stood aside for her and Gil. “I apologize on behalf of my son, Clare. And I will ensure this doesn’t happen again.” He closed the door as they stepped onto the small porch.
“Well, we’ve definitely struck out with all of the Wolochuks,” muttered Gil, unconsciously echoing her own thoughts.
Clare stared at the closed door a moment longer before joining Gil on the sidewalk. “He’s obviously had a lot of bad luck,” she said.
“That may be an understatement.”
They didn’t speak again until they were heading onto the highway to return to Twin Falls. “I haven’t been in Hartford since I flew in here when my father died,” Gil unexpectedly said.
“Oh.” Clare thought about Gil having to deal with the death of his father on his own. The idea of it made him seem vulnerable, more like the Gil she’d had glimpses of years ago. “Did you see Laura and Dave then?”
“Nope, but Laura’s parents came to Dad’s funeral. Her father and mine both worked at town hall.”
“Yes, Laura mentioned it.”
Gil looked over at her. “Did she say how Dad got the job?”
“No. Didn’t he just apply?”
“No, he didn’t. It happened shortly after I left town that summer.”
Clare held her breath. He was referring to the weeks immediately following Rina’s murder. After Gil had been released from questioning, talk in town continued to escalate about the possibility of his guilt. Although he wasn’t slated to leave for Yale until the end of August, his parents arranged for him to leave sooner.
Past, Present and a Future (Going Back) Page 15