Page 15 of Memory of Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #3)

Crystal Lake

Farrell Residence

They stood outside the door of Beatrice Farrell’s house. This was a cold call, so Jack wasn’t sure how it would go.

Farrell was one of the teachers at Crystal Lake Elementary who had worked with Morton. She had been interviewed by the detective investigating the case, but she’d had no helpful information to share, according to his report.

She had retired at the end of this school year, so hopefully she was home and not traveling to celebrate her newfound freedom.

Anne pressed the doorbell a second time, and they continued to wait.

Jack had been a little worried about her after the visit with Preston Reed.

She’d been more upset by the man than Jack had anticipated.

He suspected all these years of ignoring the situation had not prevented Anne from forming feelings for the family she had never known except through newspaper clippings and online articles.

What little girl abandoned by a parent, whatever the circumstances, didn’t dream of the fairy tale that could have been?

He hoped Farrell would be helpful. Of the three teachers who had been fairly close to Morton back then, Farrell was the only one still alive.

Finding someone who had relevant memories of Mary Morton and who was willing to share them would be good about now. Not only for the investigation but for Anne. She needed to see progress.

The door opened, and the woman who matched the photos from the school’s website stood before them.

Beatrice was petite, with hair that was more blond than gray and kept in a long braid.

She had pale eyes, almost a blue, but they were actually a very light shade of silver.

The knee-length shorts and cotton t-shirt she wore said she went for comfort over fashion.

Judging by her weathered skin and the sheer number of blooming plants in her landscape, she liked spending her free time outside.

She looked to Jack. “I’m sure you noticed the no-soliciting sign next to the sidewalk.”

“Mrs. Farrell,” Anne said, drawing her attention, “my name is Anne Griffin.”

Farrell shifted her attention toward Anne. Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my word, you’re Mary’s daughter.”

Jack watched Anne’s reaction. This just kept happening. If she’d had any doubts about how much she looked like her mother, she shouldn’t have any now. He’d noticed the remarkable resemblance the first time he googled her.

Anne produced a realistic smile. “I am.”

Maybe she was getting attached—or at least accustomed—to the idea.

The older woman pressed her hand to her chest now. “I was so sorry to hear that she passed.” She smiled sadly. “I wrote to her every month all these years.” She shrugged. “Even though she never wrote me back, I felt it was the least I could do considering everyone else had turned on her.”

The relief on Anne’s face was palpable. “Would you have a few minutes for us to ask some questions about Mary and the time surrounding…what happened?”

“Of course.” Farrell drew the door open wider. “Come in.”

Jack followed Anne, then closed the door since Farrell was busy explaining how her husband had passed away last year and now it was just her.

He followed the two to the kitchen, where Farrell insisted on putting on a pot of tea.

The house was a typical ranch style. A good-sized yard surrounded it, all enclosed with an aged picket fence.

A gray cat appeared, rubbed against its master’s legs and then eyed Jack suspiciously before disappearing.

“Sit at the table with me.” Farrell ushered them to the dining table.

The kitchen-dining combo was just off the living room. You could actually see both the front and back doors from the table.

“I have lots of questions for you,” Farrell said to Anne, “but you go first. I’m sure yours are far more important than mine.”

“Thank you.” Anne accepted a cup of tea from their host.

“Would you like cream or sugar?” Farrell asked.

“No, thank you.” Anne cradled the fragile cup in both hands as if she needed the warmth.

Farrell looked to Jack. “The same for me.”

When the lady had poured a cup for Jack and then one for herself, she turned back to Anne. “Please, ask away.”

“First,” she began, “you said you wrote to Mary. But she never once wrote you back?”

Farrell shook her head. “No, she didn’t, but I understood. The lack of a response never put me off. I continued to write to her. Usually only a page, but something to let her know I was thinking of her.”

“That was very kind of you. Before the murder, were you aware of any issues between Mary and Neil?”

Farrell shook her head. “Absolutely not. Those two were madly in love. The only time I ever heard her mention being upset with Neil was when he wanted to accept that position with some start-up company.” She frowned, set her cup aside as if holding it splintered her concentration.

“They’d just found out about you.” She smiled at Anne.

“Mary was worried that some start-up company wouldn’t provide the stability they would need going forward with a baby on the way. ”

“Do you remember the name of the company?” Jack asked. There was mention of Neil’s offer from a start-up company, but the journal never mentioned the name.

Farrell appeared to ponder the question for a time. “I can’t… Wait. Bio something, I think. Some sort of medical something.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I swear the memory is the first thing to go once you pass sixty.”

“I feel that way,” Anne said, “and I’m not even thirty.”

“Life is busy,” Farrell said. “Too much on our minds these days.”

“Some have suggested,” Anne went on, “that Neil was cheating on Mary.”

Another firm shake of her head. “Absolutely not. I would have known.” She laughed softly.

“I wasn’t Mary’s closest friend, but we teachers spend so much time together discussing students and the headaches and heartaches of being an educator that we’re bound to share personal difficulties.

She would have told me. I’m certain. She adored Neil and never spoke negatively of him. Never.”

“Do you,” Jack said, “remember anything at all that gave you pause during the days that led up to the murder?”

Farrell took a moment before she answered. “The only thing I recall is that Mary was furious with her friend Eve—you know, the senator’s wife.” She cringed an unpleasant expression. “It was the first time I’d heard Mary sound so put out by her. I think they were friends since childhood.”

“Did she mention any specific trouble?”

Farrell hesitated for five or so seconds but then looked at Anne. “I swore to Mary that I would never tell this.” She sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now that she’s gone.” Farrell tilted her head and frowned. “Not that I would tell a soul except you.”

She inhaled a big breath as if what she had to say was quite the burden. “Mary was looking into how to do a reliable paternity test without Neil knowing anything about it. She couldn’t let him find out.”

Anne drew back as if the woman had slugged her. “What?”

“I’m so sorry. If Mary didn’t tell you this, then I’m guessing she found a way and determined that all was as it should be.

” She stared into her cup a moment. “I probably shouldn’t have told you.

” Her gaze lifted to Anne’s once more. “But Mary was beside herself about it for reasons she never explained. Of course, it was easy enough to assume the reason. I suppose Eve didn’t agree with some aspect of the situation.

Whatever the case, the two were out of sorts. ”

Jack watched Anne carefully to ensure she was going to hold it together after that revelation. There certainly hadn’t been anything in the diary about another love interest.

Anne moistened her lips. “You’re right. I didn’t know, but now it’s important that I know everything possible if I’m going to find the truth.”

“Do you know if she spoke to Eve or to her other friend, Carin about this?” Jack chimed in, hoping to usher things forward. He felt bad at the sorrow clouding Anne’s eyes.

“I don’t know.” Farrell picked up her tea once more.

“I actually found out by accident. It was Mary’s planning period, and her class was in the gym.

It was mine as well. My class was in art, but I went to the gym for a personal reason.

The PE instructor at the time was my husband’s first cousin.

We were planning a cookout that weekend, so I popped into the gym to run the date and time by him. ”

“Was Mary in the gym?” Anne asked.

“No. No. She was in her classroom.” A frown furrowed across the older woman’s brow.

“As I walked into the gym one of Mary’s third graders stopped playing and started crying.

She said she didn’t feel well and wanted to go home.

” Her gaze grew distant as if the memory was playing like a movie reel in her mind.

“Suddenly the little girl fell to the floor and had a seizure. While Winston, our cousin, saw to her, I ran to the nurse’s office.

I sent her to the gym, then I rushed to Mary and told her what had happened.

She hurrie d out of the room, and I collapsed into her chair to catch my breath. ”

“Was the little girl okay?”

Farrell nodded at Anne. “Oh, yes. A fever caused the seizure. She had a thorough checkup and spent a few days at home, and then she was fine.”

Farrell hesitated a moment. “When I stood to go from Mary’s room I noticed a brochure open on her desk.

I didn’t mean to be nosy, but it was right there.

Later, I asked her if everything was all right, and she broke down into tears and said she had to be sure about who the father was before she and Neil could move ahead with their wedding plans. ”

Her face pale, Anne tackled the next realistic question. “Was she planning an abortion if things didn’t turn out the way she hoped?”

The hollow sound of her voice tore at Jack.