Before the first-period bell rang, she stopped into the teachers’ lounge for a second cup of coffee. Several teachers were there, including Scott Kimball, who was talking to a very attractive history teacher who was new to the area. She was looking at him admiringly. I have to admit, Aline thought, he is a good-looking man. She guessed the new teacher, Barbara Bagli, to be about thirty, and that she was very interested in Scott.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Barbara told Scott, “My parents are going to be visiting next week from Cleveland, and they love to go out to nice restaurants. Where would you recommend?”
Waving Aline over to join them, he said, “Aline and I had a great dinner at the French restaurant La Petite in Nyack, last week. Aline, wasn’t it terrific?”
Aline had assumed, incorrectly, that Scott would be discreet about their having spent an evening together. She looked around to see if any of the other teachers were privy to their conversation. She didn’t think so. She tried to conceal her irritation as she answered, “La Petite is wonderful. I’m sure you and your parents will enjoy it, Barbara.”
Aline walked over to the coffee machine to avoid further small talk. As she poured a cup for herself, she thought, That is the last time I will socialize with Scott Kimball outside of school and give him the chance to embarrass me.
43
Alan lived through the next week in a daze. He remembered unpacking his suitcase, hanging up some clothes and putting the rest in the dresser. Mom made sure I was neat, he thought. She’d give me a smack if I left clothes on the floor.
He didn’t know what to do with himself. His father suggested that he try to find a temporary job. Temporary? he asked himself. How long is that? Until I go to trial and get convicted of murder?
Kerry’s face was always in his mind. The fun things they had done together kept jumping back into his memory. The senior prom last May. The ride down to the shore afterward. Even though it was very late, they both got up early and took a walk on the beach. Again he could feel the warmth of the sand under his bare feet and hear Kerry’s voice. “Alan, you were the best-looking guy at the prom. I’m so happy you let me pick your tux. It was perfect.”
“And I was also the luckiest guy at the prom because I was with the most beautiful girl in the room.”
Every day after breakfast he had driven to visit her grave. He stopped after noticing someone taking his picture next to the Dowling monument. The next day it had appeared on the front page of The Record newspaper.
Before he was arrested, he had always had a good appetite. Now it felt as if anything he ate stuck in his throat. His mother’s constant reminders to eat made him feel even more stressed. Finally he burst out, “Mom, are you trying to fatten me up for my trial to show what good care you’re taking of me?”
“Alan, these outbursts of yours are the kind of thing you pulled when you were a child. I didn’t tolerate them then, and I’m not going to tolerate it now. I can understand that you are upset, but so are your father and I. We’re not taking our anxiety out on you; don’t take yours out on us.”
Right to the end, Alan thought, Mom will run her tight ship.
As usual, she had the last word. “And don’t forget. The only reason you are in this situation is because of your temper. If you hadn’t quarreled with Kerry and had just told the truth, you’d be at Princeton right now.”
After that exchange Alan vowed to say as little as possible to either of his parents. Unable to sleep at night, he slept most of the day.
His mother went back to her job as a critical care nurse at Englewood Hospital. His father had only taken two days off at the time of his arrest. He was back to catching the 7:14 A.M. train to the city.
The only one whose company he looked forward to was Brenda, their longtime housekeeper. Her sympathy and concern for him was a welcome change from his parents. One afternoon, after fixing him some pancakes, Brenda said, “Alan, I know there’s no way in the world you hurt that poor girl. Everything is going to be okay for you. I can feel it in my bones, and my bones never lie.”
A ghost of a smile came over Alan’s face. “Take care of those bones, Brenda. They’re the only things that believe in me.”
By now all of his friends had left for their colleges. He had not heard from any of them. The several texts and emails he sent received no response. He could understand why Rich, Stan and Bobby were angry at him. But why had his other friends dropped him? Did he really have to ask?
The sense of isolation was suffocating. His father was right when he said he should try to get a job. But on a job application they ask if you have ever been arrested. How should I answer? “Yes, I’m charged with murder, and I’m wearing an ankle bracelet. But don’t worry. I didn’t do it.”
After sleeping a good part of the day, Alan began to take long walks at night. He would drive to a walking trail, and carrying only a flashlight, he would take comfort in the solitude and quiet of the woods.
44
Seven players from last year’s lacrosse team were still students at the high school. Thanks to Pat Tarleton’s administrative assistance, Aline’s counseling appointments with each of them were spaced far enough apart that no one had any suspicion about why she had been assigned to Aline.
With each session she began by saying, “I know you played lacrosse with my sister Kerry. I wonder if you would like to talk about how you felt about her and how you’re feeling now.”
As she expected, there was a pattern to the answers.
“I miss Kerry so much.”
“I can’t believe that anyone would deliberately hurt her.”
“The party was so much fun, but then Kerry and Alan had the fight.”
“Did the fight spoil the party?”
“Oh, no. Kerry, as usual, just laughed it off. But I know they were texting back and forth after he left.”
“Does anyone think that she should have broken up with him?”
“Only Annie. But you know why? She had a big crush on Alan.”
When she broached the subject of who had brought the beer to the party, their answers were for the most part the same. “Some of the guys brought it. Kerry had some there.”
Only one girl, Alexis, when asked about the beer, hesitated for a long minute before she said, “I have no idea.”
Aline was sure she was holding back, but did not press her. She asked the girls if they had been with Kerry the day of the party. Four of them had been swimming in the pool with her from noon until three o’clock.
“Was anyone else there?” Aline asked.
Alexis said, “When Jamie Chapman came home from work, he yelled over to Kerry to ask if he could come swimming too.”
“What did Kerry say?”
“Kerry liked Jamie. She told him to come over. Then he heard us talking about who was coming to the party. He asked Kerry if he could come. She told him it was only for kids who were still at the high school.”
“How did he respond to that?”
He looked really disappointed. And when he left, Kerry said, “I feel bad turning him down, but we’re having drinks at the party. He might talk about that to other people.”
Aline decided to be candid with her next question. “The police believe that the guy who got Kerry the beer for her party had an argument with her. He’s the one who recently helped her change a flat tire. They want to find that guy and talk to him. Did Kerry ever mention him to you?”
The only one who knew about the flat tire was Sinead Gilmartin. “Kerry told me she had a flat on Route 17 and she wasn’t going to tell her father because he’d been after her to replace a bald tire.”
“Do you know how long before the party that happened?”
“I guess about a week, maybe a little more.”
“Sinead, do you recall anything Kerry told you that might help the police find this guy. What he looked like? The kind of car he was driving?”
“I think I remember. The guy who pulled over, Kerry said, was driving a tow
truck. That’s why he was able to change it so fast. She tried to give him a ten-dollar tip, but he turned it down. She said he was really nice.”
It was information Mike would want to know immediately. As soon as Sinead left her office, Aline started typing an email to him, but then stopped. Don’t send this through the school computer system, she thought. She took out her phone and sent Mike a text.
• • •
When Mike read the text from Aline, he seized on the words “tow truck.” Although the information was still very general, it gave them more to work with than just some guy who was “about twenty-five” had stopped to help Kerry.
From his time on the Waldwick police force, he knew how most Traffic Safety units in Bergen County regulated their highways and roads. They had township Traffic Safety units that oversaw crossing guards and traffic lights. These units also maintained the list of tow truck operators who had a permit to work in their town. Waldwick, he recalled, had about a dozen companies with permits. He assumed Saddle River and the neighboring towns—Washington Township, Upper Saddle River, Woodcliff Lake, Ho-Ho-Kus—had a similar number.
There was no guarantee, however, that the tow truck he was interested in was on the permit list in a local town. Route 17 was a major highway serving northern New Jersey. Going five miles up or down the highway from Saddle River would bring in more towns and dozens more companies. But they had to start somewhere.
Mike assigned Sam Hines, a young investigator in his office, the task of tracking down each town’s roster of companies with tow truck permits and contacting the companies to ask about their drivers who were under thirty years old.
“Mike, this is going to take a really long time,” Sam said.
“I know. That’s why I suggest you begin immediately.”
45
The last student Pat Tarleton had suggested Aline work with was Valerie Long. Because she was a junior, the discussion of college choices could wait.
It was one of the economics teachers who brought matters to a head by stopping by Aline’s office and telling her that Valerie was totally indifferent in class and seemed to be almost in a trance.
“Maybe if you talk to her, you can find out what the problem is,” the teacher said.
The next day Aline scheduled a meeting with Valerie. When the girl came into her office, the sad expression on her face and in her eyes was clearly visible. Aline wondered if grief over Kerry’s death might be the cause of her malaise.
She decided to go directly to that subject. After Valerie took a chair opposite hers, Aline said, “Valerie, I know many of the girls are very upset by Kerry’s death, and I hear that you were very close to her.”
“I loved Kerry. She was my best friend in school.”
“Then I can understand why you feel so bad about her death.”
“No, you can’t.”
Aline paused, hoping Valerie would say more. But when she didn’t, Aline knew that there was no point in pressing her. Instead she said, “Valerie, I reviewed your records. Your marks at your former school were very good. They were strong after you arrived here last January. But then they fell off considerably. And this year your teachers are concerned that you seem distracted in class.”
I am distracted, Valerie thought, but I can’t tell why. Instead she said, “I miss my friends in Chicago. They’re all there. My stepfather changed jobs, and overnight they told me we were moving. I wanted to live with my grandmother in Chicago and stay in my former school, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“What about your biological father?” Aline asked.
Valerie smiled spontaneously. “He was wonderful. I was Daddy’s little girl. He found out he had brain cancer and was dead in two months.”
“How old were you when that happened?”
“He died on my eighth birthday.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m sure that was very difficult for you.”
“Whatever. My mother knows better than to have a celebration on my birthday. She remarried two years ago. Wayne,” she said derisively, “is twenty years older than my mother.”
There are multiple reasons Valerie is floundering, Aline thought. She misses her Chicago friends. She lost Kerry, her only friend here. She’s still grieving for her natural father, and she resents her stepfather.
Aline decided that the next thing to do was to arrange a meeting with both of Valerie’s parents and discuss with them Valerie’s obvious resentment about the move. And if that might be a factor in her lack of interest in her schoolwork.
“Valerie,” she said, “as you know, Kerry was my sister. I of all people can understand how sad you are to lose her. It’s hard to make friends in a new environment, especially when all the other students have known each other for a long time. I can only imagine how difficult it was for you to lose your best friend.”
“You have no idea how difficult it was,” Valerie said.
“Valerie, I know that Kerry would want you to make new friends and keep up with your schoolwork.”
“I’ll try,” Valerie said indifferently.
Then as she looked into Aline’s face and saw the sadness in her eyes, she wondered if someday she could tell Aline what was really going on.
46
June Crowley went to Mass every Sunday, but she was a practicing Catholic in the loosest definition of the phrase. It was just as important to her to be beautifully dressed as it was to attend the sacraments. Over the years it had never occurred to her to have a private conversation with Father Frank. But now, because she was frantic with worry about Alan, she decided to have a talk with him.
She called and asked if she could meet with him as soon as possible. He suggested that the next morning would be a good time for him.
When she arrived at his office, she was still framing in her mind how to tell him about her concerns. But when she was there, she simply blurted out the words.
“Father, I’m desperately worried that Alan may be suicidal.”
Father Frank was well aware that Alan Crowley had been arrested. He had been thinking of calling June and Doug to tell them how sorry he was for both them and Alan. Now he was deeply concerned that June might be right.
“What makes you think that, June?” he asked.
“It’s the way he’s acting. He sleeps most of the day and then takes off right after dinner. I don’t know where he goes, or if he’s even talking to anyone. And I doubt that. He swears that he was not the one who hurt Kerry, but he knows that everyone believes he did it and everybody expects that when he goes on trial, he’ll be found guilty and sent to prison for many years.”
“June, you’re a nurse, do you know any psychiatrists who could talk to him?”
“I’ve suggested that to him. He flat out refuses to go.”
“Do you think it would help if I had a talk with him?”
“It would be a great relief to me if you did.”
“It will be better if I can catch him alone. Are you and Doug working tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Okay, I’ll drop by in the late afternoon and see if I can get him to speak to me.”
“Our housekeeper Brenda will be there. I’ll tell her to let you in.”
The next afternoon Father Frank drove to the Crowley home and rang the bell. It was answered immediately by a middle-aged woman he assumed was the housekeeper.
“You must be Brenda,” he said. “I’m Father Frank.”
“Mrs. Crowley told me you would be stopping by,” Brenda replied.
“Is Alan home?”
“Yes, he’s in the den watching TV. Should I tell him you’re here?”
“No, just show me the den, and I’ll take it from there.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
As Father Frank stood at the door of the TV room, Brenda made a noisy retreat in the direction of the kitchen.
Alan was watching a movie. He didn’t look up when the
priest opened the door and walked into the room.
Father Frank barely recognized Alan, whose appearance was quite different from the well-groomed young man he often saw in church. He was wearing an old T-shirt that looked like he had slept in it and gym shorts. A pair of scuffed sneakers was next to him on the floor. It was obvious he hadn’t shaved in several days. It looked as though he hadn’t bothered to comb his hair.
Alan looked up. A surprised expression came over his face. “I didn’t know you were coming, Father Frank.”
“Your mother is very concerned about you. She believes that you’re depressed.”
“Wouldn’t you feel depressed if you were facing a long prison term?”
“Yes, I would, Alan.”
“Well, Father, don’t be disappointed. If you came over to hear my confession, I’m sorry to say I didn’t do it.”
“Alan, I came over to talk to you and to hear what you had to say.”
“Then let me say it clearly. I loved Kerry. I still love her. That night I went over to help her clean up. She told me she was tired. We could do it in the morning. I kissed her good night and went home. I know I lied about that to the police and asked the guys to lie for me. But you know why I did that? I was scared. Wouldn’t you be scared if suddenly everybody was looking at you like you’re a killer? Do you know what it’s like to have handcuffs on and be forced to wear an orange jumpsuit?”
“So you’re telling me that you are innocent of Kerry’s death.”
“I’m not just telling you; I’m swearing it to you. If you have a Bible with you, I’ll swear on that. But it’s obvious nobody believes me.”
“Alan, in my experience, the truth has a way of coming out. If you do go to trial, I’m sure that will be many months from now. What are you going to do between now and then?”
“Frankly, Father, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking how nice it would be to be with Kerry again.”