Page 16 of Midnight Secrets

“Tell me about her.” I sat back, assuming a relaxed posture. Over the years, I’d learned that asking a broad, open-ended question often led to more information.

“Well, she was nice. Always willing to help out with things around the school. She liked to joke, but wasn’t mean about it, you know?”

I nodded but stayed silent.

“The kids liked her. So did the parents. She kept her class engaged and did well with problem students.” Her composed expression crumpled slightly. “I just don’t know why someone would do this.” She turned a frown on me. “I heard Warren’smissing.” She rolled her eyes.

That was interesting. She liked Marie but not the husband.

I stayed silent several beats, hoping she’d continue, and was quickly rewarded for my patience.

“I don’t know what she saw in that man. His money, probably. He didn’t treat her well.”

“Oh?” The single word prompted her to continue that line of thought.

She nodded, grimacing. “I don’t know as if he hit her. But I guess if he stabbed her, he probably worked his way up from beatings. I know he belittled her, though. I’ve heard him do it. And he drinks a lot.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“We do the standard holiday get-togethers, you know? At this year’s Christmas party, we played some party games, like the candy cane run and pin the star on the tree. Silly stuff. She kept dropping candy canes, and he told her she was worthless and said how he couldn’t believe she wasn’t doing it on purpose. That no one was that bad at the game.” She shook her head, clearly disgusted.

“You said he drinks a lot. Was he drunk then?”

“Yes. We held the party at a restaurant with a banquet room. He was several drinks in by that point, and was slurring his words some.”

“What did Mrs. Hammond do?”

“She finished the game, then left the room.”

“But not the party?”

Mrs. Byron shook her head. “No. She was gone about fifteen minutes. When she came back, she sat at a table with another teacher from the high school and ignored her husband until they left.”

I pulled the pen off my collar. “What’s the teacher’s name?”

“Grace Alonso.”

Sliding my notepad forward, I wrote her name down. “Is she here today?”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to speak with her before I leave. Tell me about Mrs. Hammond’s relationship with the rest of the staff.”

“It was good. She never created waves. Everyone liked her.”

“Was she particularly close to anyone? Other than Ms. Alonso.”

“Kaya Strand. She’s another high school teacher.”

I wrote her name down as well. “Tell me about Mrs. Hammond’s attitude lately.”

Mrs. Byron frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Has she seemed… off?”

She glanced away, thinking. “Not really. I mean, she might have been a little quieter than usual, but nothing drastic.”

“And no problems with any students or their parents?”

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