Unholy Shepherd by Robert Christian (classic literature list .txt) 📗

she slipped into her brogue. Her ex-husband in particular enjoyed seeing her get upset—just to “hear her Irish voice.” The pig.

“Mrs. Aller— Ms. Keane,” Officer Dennis corrected himself, “this is just standard procedure. There’s no need to get upset. Between you and me, I don’t think you’re under serious consideration as a suspect for your son’s murder. And we’ve also just received word that your husband—I’m sorry—your ex-husband’s whereabouts for the past week have been confirmed as well. We have verification from our embassy that he has indeed been in Berlin on business since before your son’s disappearance.”

That didn’t shock Maire. As much of a bastard as he’d been to her, the one thing she could say about Stanley Allerton was that he loved his children fiercely. Although the custody battle was going bitterly, and her lawyer assured her she would come out victorious, that didn’t change the way he had doted on his son and daughter every chance he got. No. However much she might wish he was capable of something like this—just to give her another reason to hate him—Stanley could never harm their son. He’ll be just as broken over this as she is. Maybe he’d just stay in Germany. That thought gave her little comfort.

“All right, Officer, what do you need from me?” Maire sighed. This was getting ridiculous, but she knew Officer Dennis wouldn’t leave her alone to grieve until he had accomplished what he was supposed to.

“I just need you to give me your account as best as you can from the day your son disappeared until this morning. Maybe there’s something you forgot to tell us, or remembered, since the last time we went over all this.”

Four days for her to remember. Most people would find a task like that to be intimidating. But Maire had gone over every minute of each one of those days over and over in her mind, to the point that she couldn’t think of one detail she had overlooked. She walked slowly over to the safety rail along the roadway and sat on it, hugging her blanket around her tighter. It would be easier for Officer Dennis to hear her there, away from the noise and confusion of the cameras. The last week was so vivid in her mind—the story so complete—that she was positive that she could nearly repeat her previous testimony verbatim, if she felt so inclined. There was still only one detail that she had kept to herself, a personal matter that may not even bear anything out on the actual case, yet still caused her to be uneasy. She would deal with it when she needed to.

The officer came slowly over. He seemed almost hesitant, as if sitting next to her violated some sensibility that he held. Too professional, she thought. Poor kid just isn’t ready for all of this. She actually did feel a certain sense of pity for the young man. Anyone could see that he was in over his head. He clearly hadn’t joined the department in their quiet little town thinking he’d be involved in a case like this. She glanced down at her watch. Twelve minutes to noon. The day felt like it was taking a lifetime. Maire could hardly believe that it was only six hours ago that she was at home holding out hope her boy was still alive.

Officer Dennis sat down on the rail next to her and looked at the ground in front of them. Maire got the impression that she would have to be the one to break the silence. She did not relish having to go over her statement again, but if it would help in finding the bastard responsible for her son’s death, she could find the strength to keep herself together for another hour or so.

“Where would you like me to start?” she asked Officer Dennis.

Dennis looked at her, blinked a few times, and then quickly flipped open his notebook to sift through the pages. A sharp sigh of aggravation escaped Maire’s lips before she could catch herself, but he seemed to take no notice.

“Let’s start on Thursday evening and just go from there,” he said after finding the page he was looking for in his notebook. She could tell by the way he had flipped back and forth through the book that his notes were in no particular order, and she anticipated having to stop several times while he caught up or added new information he’d missed. Or misplaced. Maire took a deep breath and began her account.

She took Officer Dennis through the four days, beginning with her son and daughter’s arrival home from school on Thursday afternoon around three o’clock. Maire recalled how Braden had brought her a crayon-drawn picture of what was meant to be her and her children in front of their house. He had also included a yellow, stick-figure dog, which made her laugh. Braden had been asking for a dog for the last six months, but she had been resistant to the idea, knowing that she was going to be the one taking care of it. The picture was titled “MY FAMILY” in big, blocky child letters. She inquired where his father was, trying to be civil and point out that even though they were divorcing, daddy would still be part of the family. “Daddy’s on the plane!” Braden had quickly answered, taking the picture back and pointing to the upper corner at what Maire had at first thought was a bird. The picture is still hanging on the refrigerator.

She remembered that her daughter had gone straight to her room. Maire noted how quiet she had been after coming in the house that day. She thought it a bit odd, even as of late. Maureen had always been a quiet child, and had been interacting even less since hearing the news about the divorce, but at the very least she’d come into the kitchen for an after-school snack before retreating upstairs to her homework