Fifty-Two

Marta didn't want to have to wait for Bonnie, but there was no way she could hop into her unmarked car and go racing off down the street, siren wailing and lights flashing, without her. She waited while Bonnie ran next door to the neighbors' house and told a startled Jill at the door that she needed her to watch Rachel.

"There's been a shooting at the school!" she said breathlessly, and as she ran to get into the front seat of Marta's cruiser, Jill beelining it for Bonnie's house, she added, "Don't tell Rachel!"

Marta had the car in gear before Bonnie had the door closed.

"It's him, oh God, I know it's him," Bonnie said.

Marta, keeping her voice as calm as possible, said, "We don't know, Bonnie. We don't know anything yet."

"He didn't answer his phone!"

"He might not be able to get to it," Bonnie said. "He could have muted it."

A block away from Lodge High School they saw the kaleidoscope of flashing lights. Several marked cruisers and ambulances had swarmed the area. Marta had taken the call only eight minutes earlier, but the shooting itself must have occurred sometime within the last half hour. There would have been initial calls—probably several—to 911, then cars would have been dispatched to the scene, and as soon as word got back that someone had been shot, the call had gone out to Marta.

She could think of nothing comforting to say to her sister. The truth was, she expected the worst. She didn't quite have a handle on the extent of the mess in which Richard was entangled, but these kinds of things often got worse before they got better.

The cruiser screeched to a halt by one of the marked cruisers. As Marta got out she said to Bonnie, "Stay here!"

She ran to the center of the school parking lot, illuminated by tall fixtures overhead, where the attention was focused. She pushed her way through a small crowd of civilians, yelling at them to "Get back!" as she did so, until the scene opened up for her. There were three uniformed officers there, two men and one woman, holding out their arms so no one would get too close to the body on the ground.

Marta hadn't even had a second to take a close look at who it was when she heard a scream behind her.

It was Bonnie.

"Oh God, no!" she said, and before she could get any closer, Marta threw her arms around her to hold her back. Bonnie was able to look over her shoulder, see the dead man splayed out on his back on the pavement.

"It's not him," Bonnie whispered into her sister's ear. "It's not Richard."

But that revelation did nothing to stop Bonnie from shaking. Marta released her hold on her and took a closer look at the dead man. She could see that Bonnie was right, that it was obvious that this man, even with his neck blown away and his head and chest covered in blood, was not her brother-in-law. This was an older man, heavier set. And Marta was even thinking she knew who he was, that she'd spoken with him the day Mark LeDrew came to the school.

"Where is he?" Bonnie asked. "Where's Richard?"

It was a good question. He certainly wasn't among the people who had gathered here.

"Richard!" Bonnie cried out. "Richard!"

She worked her way back through the crowd and started running for the school, no doubt hoping she'd find her husband there, Marta thought. God, what a clusterfuck.

She turned to the woman wearing a Milford police uniform. "What happened here?"

The cop said, "People heard a shot about twenty-five minutes ago."

"One shot?"

The cop nodded. "A meeting had just ended and some of the people were coming out to their cars. This lady"—and she pointed to one woman standing over by a van—"saw something."

Marta broke away and approached the woman, who was standing with her back to the van, wringing a tissue in her hand, her fingers shaking.

"Ma'am?" Marta said. "I'm Detective Harper. What's your name?"

"Violet. Violet Kanin."

"What did you see, Mrs. Kanin?"

"I was... I was coming out the main door over there, and I... this man came into the meeting at the end, and Mr. Boyle seemed very upset by it."

"What man was this?"

"The one who shot Mr. Willow."

"Herb Willow. A teacher."

The woman nodded. "He was in the meeting tonight."

"Meeting?"

"About the book."

"Book? What book?"

"The Road. It's by Cormac Mc—"

"Let's go back. This man who came into the meeting late. Mr. Boyle wasn't happy to see him?"

"No."

"Did Mr. Boyle say his name?"

"No, I don't think so. He didn't say anything. He looked stunned."

"Describe the man."

"He was... he was in his twenties or thirties. He was a white man, a little heavy. Kind of a round face. He had on a sweatshirt, I think, with some writing on it or a picture."

"Do you remember what that was?"

"There were Bs."

"Bees? Like bumblebees?"

"No, the letter. Two of them. Boston something."

"Boston Bruins?"

"I think so."

"Okay. Tell me what happened after he came into the room."

"They went out into the hall together to talk. I thought maybe Mr. Boyle would come back, but after a few minutes when he didn't we figured the meeting was over, like, it was a funny way to end it, just walking out. And so I was going out to my car and Mr. Willow was talking or arguing with Mr. Boyle and this man and then the other man... he..."

Marta wanted to be patient, to help this woman get her story out her own way, but she needed to know things. Right now.

"Mrs. Kanin, what did the man do?"

"He pointed the gun at Mr. Willow and he shot him. Just like that. Like it was nothing. And Mr. Willow fell and, oh my God, I can't believe what is happening here. First that boy who was going to blow up the school, and now—"

"What happened then? After Mr. Willow was shot."

"They got in the truck."

"This man and Mr. Boyle?"

"That's right."

"They just got in the truck and drove off? Who was driving?"

"Mr. Boyle, I think. The other man, he was pointing his gun at him."

"Describe the truck."

"It... it was a pickup truck."

"Color?"

"Uh, white, I think. But I guess it could have been gray. But I think it was white. And it had rust on it."

"Was there a cover on the back?"

"A what?"

"Was there a cover on the bed part of the pickup? Or was it open, uncovered?"

"The last thing. There was no cover."

"Did you notice a license plate?"

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine, you did good," Marta said, and placed her hand briefly on the woman's arm. "You stay right here, okay? Because we're going to need to talk to you some more."

Marta ran back to the closest police car and got on the radio to call in descriptions of the car, Herb Willow's shooter, and last but not least, her brother-in-law.