I Shall Not Want

Clare lifted her head, as if she had sensed him coming, and said something to the boy at her side. Anyone who didn't know her would see a calm, caring, collected priest. He saw the taut line of her jaw and the strained expression in her eyes. There was another adult there as well, a fleshy soccer-dad type with his arm around a girl. At least one of the kids had had sense enough to call a parent.

'Officer Entwhistle,' he said.

Noble turned toward him. 'Chief.' His relief was evident. The two girls' faces were wet from crying, and one of the boys looked ready to toss his cookies any second. The father ping-ponged between consoling his daughter and glaring at the other young man, standing beside Clare. Russ guessed he was the daughter's date. Fox-featured, he looked like he normally might enjoy mischief but was smart enough not to get too far in. Right now, he was just holding it together. Didn't want to lose it in front of his girl. Well, Russ could identify with that.

'Hi. Russ Van Alstyne.' Russ bypassed the dad and shook with Clare's kid first. 'I'm the chief of police.'

The boy took his hand. 'Hi. I'm-um, Colin Ellis.'

Russ glanced at Clare for a second. 'Any relation to Anne Vining-Ellis?'

The boy nodded. 'She's my mom.'

'She and Chris are on the way,' Clare said.

Russ turned to Noble. 'Officer Entwhistle, will you clear the rest of the onlookers from the area? And tell the traffic guys there'll be some parents arriving.'

'Will do, Chief.'

The father stepped forward. 'Can you take the kids' statements and release them, please? I want to get my daughter out of here. She's had one hell of a shock.'

'And you are…?'

'Clifford Sturdevant. This is my daughter Lauren.'

Lauren snuffled something that might have been a greeting.

'This is Kearney'-Clare indicated the queasy-looking boy-'and Meghan.' Meghan wiped her eyes, smearing blue mascara across her cheeks.

'Why don't you kids tell me what happened,' Russ said.

'They were supposed to be at the-'

Russ held up one hand. 'I'd like to hear it in their own words, Mr. Sturdevant.'

The story was pretty much what he expected from Lyle's brief description. The two couples had been going to the Glen Drive-In, got to talking about the 'Cossayuharie Killer,' and whipped each other up with dares until they had no choice but to go to the Muster Field at twilight. They had stumbled around-Russ got the impression they were looking for soft ground at this point-and through sheer dumb luck had run across the body. They fled back to Lauren's car, where, after a short argument about driving away or not, they called 9-1-1, Sturdevant, and the Ellises. They hadn't seen anyone else coming or going from the field.

It was the Ellis boy who screwed up the courage to ask what they all must have been wondering. 'Are we in trouble?'

Russ eyed him. 'Were you drinking?'

The kid swallowed. 'Yeah. Yes, sir. But not much. We had a six-pack.'

'If I catch you drinking again, you will be in trouble. But I think this time I'll let your parents deal with it.' Kearney looked relieved, Colin horrified.

A flash of arriving headlights and another gust of wind caught Russ's attention. He squinted in the glare. Clare glanced over, then at him. Questioning him without words. 'The medical examiner,' he said.

IX

'Any objection to me taking Lauren and Meghan home now?' Sturdevant's tone implied any objection would be overruled. The boys looked at each other. Russ figured they would eat their own tongues before admitting they wanted an adult to stay with them.

'I'll keep the boys company until the Ellises get here,' Clare said.

He shot her a grateful look. 'You're free to go,' he told the girls. 'Thanks for your cooperation. And thanks for keeping your heads and calling us right away.'

Sturdevant was already dragging them off. Russ excused himself and bolted for the new headlights. It was indeed Dr. Scheeler, stepping out of his Scout in a suit that must have cost as much as a month's rent in Cossayuharie.

'I was having a romantic dinner at the Sagamore with a woman I had to beg for a date,' Scheeler said under his breath. 'I hope to hell this is worth it.'

A lean, tan brunette in a pink suit got out of the passenger side of the car. She wasn't wearing anything under the jacket. No wonder Scheeler was pissed off. She crossed to the driver's side. The pathologist handed her the keys. 'I'm so sorry about this, Barb.' He glared at Russ.

The woman smiled. Not happy, but good-natured. 'Oh, Chief Van Alstyne and I are practically old friends. I'll cut him some slack.' She was, Russ realized, the manager of the Algonquin Waters Resort. One of the last people to ever see Linda alive. 'How are you?' she said, in a different tone. 'I was so sorry to hear about your wife. It must have been terrible for you.'

'Thank you. Yeah. It was,' he said for the seven hundredth time.

Scheeler pulled his bag out of the back. Hot date or no, he was prepared. He helped the woman up into the driver's seat and took his time retrieving his hand. 'So. I'll see you later, Barb?'

She flashed him a killer grin. 'If you want your SUV back.' Then she gunned the engine and was gone.

'Day-um,' Scheeler said. He rubbed the back of his neck, then glowered at Russ again. 'You better have found Amelia Earhart.'

Russ started walking toward the back of the field. 'Since when do doctors have trouble getting women?'

'Pathology is not always the big turn-on some people assume it is,' Scheeler said, falling in beside him. 'Plus, the pay sucks. Dermatology, that's where the bucks are. A certificate in plastic surgery is like a license to print money. Hang on.'

He climbed into the back of the MKPD ambulance and emerged a minute later, zipping himself into a pale blue jumpsuit. He glanced around the edge of the ambulance as they passed, then did a double- take. He turned to Russ. 'It's that minister again!' He looked again to where Clare was talking with the boys. 'Have you checked her out? It's not unheard of for perpetrators to come back to the scene of the crime, you know.'

Russ pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. 'She's here because the victim worked for her church.'

'Have you investigated her thoroughly?' Scheeler asked.

'Uh…' Not as thoroughly as I want to.

'Because a clerical collar can hide a lot.'

Clare's neck bared, her eyes closed, the hot pulse in her throat- Christ. He adjusted his pants under the guise of redistributing the weight of his rig. He was as bad as one of those seventeen-year-old boys, creeping around the old stones, hoping to score. Worse. He knew better.

The area was lit up like a used-car lot with the additional lamps Lyle and Kevin had set up. 'Doc Scheeler,' Lyle said. Kevin was stringing police-line tape around trees and stones. Lyle stepped over the tape and held it down for the medical examiner. 'Hadley's on her way. And the state tech team, although they say it may be another hour.'

'Let's see what we can ascertain before they get here.' Scheeler snapped his gloves on. They walked one after the other, in Lyle's footsteps. Russ kept his eyes moving as he pulled on his purple gloves,