The Silent Boy (Emma McPherson Book 1) A.J. Flynn (ebook reader play store TXT) 📖

had a discussion with your guys last night. There’s nothing else for us to add.”

“The investigators have found that it’s more advantageous to have more than one person overhear a statement. As you might imagine, it lessens the likelihood of mistakes. May I please come inside?”

The request was superfluous. Her manner said that come hell or high water she would have her way.

“If you wish,” the woman replied ungraciously, and held open the door.

“Hello, ma’am.” Mr. Rogers had returned to his chair and held a trembling hand out to McPherson.

“Mr. Rogers. I’m Lieutenant Emma McPherson.”

“Yes, I heard you speaking at the door. Take a seat and tell us what we can do for you.”

McPherson took her seat on a sun-faded couch. The room gave one the impression that everything in it, including the Rogers, had been transferred here by means of a time capsule.

The furniture was overstuffed, and everything was covered in some drab shade of beige or brown. All of the wood pieces were oak, with the same fit and finish she had often seen in libraries. The only hint of color was the vibrant green in the robe Rogers had placed over his legs.

Set against the modern, light-colored background, the entire thing looked out of place.

“I would like to speak to you and Mrs. Rogers about the murder of Charlie Turner.”

Mr. Rogers sank back into his chair. It almost looked like he was personally bereaved.

“It’s a thing that’s quite beyond my understanding. I simply can’t imagine a person capable of killing a child.”

“It’s hard for us all, but tell me what did you know about the boy? Were you two well acquainted?”

“Not very. I’ve spoken to him a few times. One night in particular, I was out walking and I dropped my pipe. It’s difficult for me to bend over, and Charlie passed by just as I was trying to pick it up. He got it for me and then asked if he should join me in my walk. I told him I’d be glad for his company, but if he had other things to do I’d be all right on my own. We didn’t say much to each other, but he followed me all the way back to the house. I thought it showed rare kindness in a person so young.”

McPherson nodded in agreement then turned to Rose Rogers, who was sitting up rigidly in a straight-backed chair.

“How about you, Mrs. Rogers. Did you know Charlie?”

“I have better things to do than waste my time chatting with strange children.”

“Rosa,” Lester said sadly, “you don’t mean that the way it came out.”

“You can be as sentimental as you want, Lester, but I find the children around here to be both destructive and noisy. There’s no reason for me to lie about it.”

McPherson turned away from the woman. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to conceal her distaste.

“Then you don’t know any reason why the boy would be out at that time of night?”

“None, Lieutenant. I know all the children around here, but not that well. We talk, but I don’t know much about their lives.”

McPherson rose to her feet. There was nothing further to gain. Mr. Rogers might be able to walk the distance to where Charlie had been found, but he didn’t seem capable of carrying him.

Mrs. Rogers was strong enough to do it, but she could already tell that the woman wouldn’t even bother giving her the time of day, let alone proof that she did it.

“I’ll be going then. Here’s my card. If you can think of anything that might help, I’d appreciate it if you called me.”

By the time McPherson had handed the card to Lester, Rose was already at the door, holding it wide open for her. McPherson shook hands with the man then walked by Rose as if she didn’t exist. When it came to showing bad manners, McPherson never took a back seat to anyone.

Back at the car, Taylor told her two local shoe repairmen suspected the work on the heel could have been theirs, but they didn’t remember who’d brought it in. The detectives were gathering whatever pictures they could of the people involved, in hopes of obtaining an identification. There was nothing found on the tires.

“Well, I guess that’s something. I’m gonna head over to see what Mrs. Johnson has to say, then we can take a trip down to the school.”

“OK.,” Taylor said. “I’ll keep in close touch with headquarters.”

XI

Colleen Johnson was relieved to find her husband gone when she woke up. The scene from the night before was still fresh in her memory, and as she prepared her morning coffee she couldn’t help but wonder about him.

She began pulling some of the many pins from her hair as she made her way to her dressing table and sat down in front of the mirror. Robb eventually slipped from her mind as she gave her face its daily morning scrutiny for possible wrinkles. The new cream she bought seemed to be doing her skin a lot of good.

Once satisfied, she continued pulling out pins as her thoughts drifted back to her husband.

There was no way he could have done it, of course, but he hadn’t given her any explanation for his whereabouts during the time the boy had been killed, and the violent action he’d shown by destroying the porcelain figure made her think back to how he would sometimes act toward children.

Not having any children of their own had always been a great disappointment, though Lord knows she had tolerated Robb’s persistence often enough to have made it possible.

She and Robb had very little in the way of companionship, but she firmly believed the presence of a child in their house would solve all of their problems.

It was a desperate effort for her to relive her very real and deep-seated lack of fulfillment that prompted her to call the children to come inside so often, baiting them with cookies and cakes as