Page 123 of The Instruments of Darkness

“I have a few more questions, then we’re done.”

“Shoot.”

“You and Stephen grew up together, right?”

“We went to the same school, but he was a couple years ahead. We didn’t start going out until after we’d both graduated.”

“Did you ever have cause to visit Gretton?”

“Gretton? What a shithole that was, and last time I drove through, it hadn’t improved any. It did have a bar, though: the Junction, known as the Junco, that some of the boys liked, because age was just a number there. I’m surprised they didn’t have high chairs and plastic sippy cups for half the customers.”

“Was Stephen Clark one of the boys who went to the Junco?”

“Sure. I remember he fucked a girl from Gretton in the parking lot. That was before we started seeing each other. The pack he ran with ribbed him about it for months after, so everyone knew. She wasn’t even pretty, they said, just a local Gretton freak. It’s a weird town anyway, but this girl had it in her bones.”

“Do you recall her name?”

“Lord, no. I doubt even Stephen could bring it to mind, once he’d sobered up after the act.”

“Does the name Mara Teller mean anything to you?”

“No, that’s not someone I know.”

“It may not be important, but do you think you could find out who that girl was?”

“Seriously, after all this time?”

“Seriously,” I said. “After all this time.”

“I can try. And let me guess: I shouldn’t tell anyone why I’m asking.”

“It would be better if you didn’t.”

“I can’t promise I’ll learn anything. I don’t stay in touch with but a handful of people from my childhood.”

“I’d appreciate the effort.”

She was gathering up her things, preparing to go. I didn’t have long left with her.

“How did you feel when you read about the abduction of Stephen’s child?” I asked.

She didn’t answer immediately. I’d noticed her taking her time throughout our conversation. Beth Witham was a woman who stepped cautiously.

“I thought it was a misprint,” she said, “because I couldn’t believe he had a kid of his own. I thought at first that it might have been his wife’s from a previous relationship, but then I said to myself that Stephen would never have married a woman who’d had a child. He always told me he couldn’t imagine fucking a woman who’d given birth, let alone marrying her and helping raise another man’s son.”

“People change.”

“Some do: they get worse. The beating I took from Stephen was a hard lesson to learn, but I’ve always been grateful that I didn’t end up married to him. There’s something dead in him, rotting away deep inside. I bet it poisons him more and more with every year that goes by. Now ask me if I think he could have killed his son. Forget about alibis. Just ask me.”

“Do you think he could have killed his son?”

“No,” she replied. “It’s going to sound odd, especially after what he did to me, but Stephen doesn’t possess the psychological strength to take a life and live with the consequences. He cried after he beat me. I think he was genuinely shocked by his loss of control. He’s a weak man trying to find a shortcut to becoming a strong one. That never ends well.”

She put on her jacket.

“But if you asked me if I thought he’d let someone get rid of the child for him,” she continued, “I’d say that was possible. What I still don’t understand is how he ended up with a baby to begin with.”

“Accidents happen,” I said. “You can attest to that.”