“Yeah. Ethan Stoner. They were like, a weird combination, what with her being a brain and him being a head.” The unintentional pun made Alyson smile at her own wit. “I think they knew each other from way back, like in grade school or something. He was held back a year someplace, otherwise he would have graduated last year with Katie. They were a pretty hot and heavy item.”
“Had you seen her since she went away to school?”
“Had I seen her? What do you mean?” Clare wished there was more light on Alyson’s face. She couldn’t tell if her voice was strained because it was finally sinking in that an acquaintance, someone her own age, was dead, or if she knew more than she was letting on. Or if she was just hostile to Russ’s authority.
“Did you see her back in Millers Kill at any time?”
“No. But like I said, we weren’t friends. So if she came back to visit Ethan, I wouldn’t have known about it.”
“Or her parents.”
“Huh?”
“She might have come back to visit her parents.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Alyson looked at her own parents at this. “Can I go now? I really don’t know anything else.”
“Can you think of any reason, anything at all, why someone might have wanted Katie dead?”
“God, no. I think it must be one of those random violence things, don’t you? Some stranger coming into town and raping and murdering the first girl he can lure into his car?” She shuddered visibly and dramatically.
Her mother whimpered. “Chief Van Alstyne, do we need to be worried about the safety of our daughter?”
“My God, what if it’s one of those serial killers, like the one over in Rochester a few years back?” Mr. Shattham put his arm around his daughter’s thin shoulders.
“Dad-dy . . .” she said, her voice rising in a whine.
“I can’t rule out a stranger killing in this case,” Russ said, “but I doubt that’s what we have here. And Katie was never raped.” He folded his fingers together and leaned his chin on his hands. “She had recently had a baby, though.”
Alyson’s mouth dropped open. Dust motes rose through the air on thermals caused by the sunlight puddling on the floor and the table. “What?” she finally choked out. “She was pregnant?” It was the first genuine emotion Clare had seen from the girl since she laid eyes on the photos of Katie’s body.
“She had been pregnant. The doctor who autopsied her says she gave birth within the last two weeks.”
“Pregnant. Holy shit.”
“Alyson!”
“Oh, Mummy, don’t have a cow.” Alyson’s shaded face stilled, only a small frown marring the blankness of hard thought. “It must have been Ethan,” she said finally. “He knocked her up and then killed her. It must have been Ethan.”
“Why do you say that?” Russ leaned back in his chair.
“Like, who else would it be? He was seriously in love with her. Aren’t most women murdered by their husbands or boyfriends? I remember discussing that in my health class.”
Clare thought back to health class at Hopewell High School. The only thing dangerous she had discussed was venereal disease, which over 50 percent of the male population was afflicted with, according to her teacher.
“Maybe he wanted her to, like, have an abortion and she wouldn’t. Or maybe he wanted her to marry him and she wouldn’t. Whatever.”
“Whatever,” Clare said under her breath.
“Wow. Ethan and Katie. And I know both of them. That’s like, creepy.”
“Alyson,” Russ asked, “do you remember Katie’s parents’ address? Was it on Depot Street?”
“No. I don’t know her parents’ names. Oh, whoa, she has a big sister, though. She was a senior when I was a freshman. Kristen. She works at Fleet Bank as a teller.”
“The branch here in town?”
“Yeah. I know because that’s our bank.”
“Okay, Alyson.” Russ gathered up the photos and closed the folder. “Thank you for your cooperation. You’ve been a big help.”
“I can go? I’m done?”
“That’s right. I don’t need a formal statement from you, there’s no need to go to the station.” He pulled off his shades and stared into her eyes. “Remember that we’re just gathering information at this point. I appreciate your, ah, insight into Katie’s relationship with Ethan Stoner, but none of us can draw any conclusions from that.” The girl gaped, a blank expression on her beautiful face. Russ sighed. “Don’t go telling everyone you meet that Katie’s dead and Ethan murdered her. Got it?” He turned to Alyson’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Shattham, thank you.”
“You will let us know if you come to suspect this was the work of some . . . some . . .”
“Wandering serial killer? I certainly will, Mr. Shattham.”
Russ and the Shatthams looked at Clare. She rose from her seat, gesturing toward the door. “Let me walk you out,” she said to the Shatthams. They got up, taking coats off the other chairs, and preceded her into the hall. Somehow, she assumed Russ would remain behind, sitting in the sunlight, thinking. Probably the same way he was assuming she’d come back as soon as she had seen the Shatthams off, to talk things over with him.
