Chapter 3

It was just after three in the afternoon. Officer Gilmore walked down the hall of Grantham Elementary School toward Ms. Kendall's classroom. There were groups of boys and girls walking on both sides of the hall in perfect unison with each other their arms folded behind their backs. They were quiet as they moved down the hallway behind each of their teachers.

Gilmore wondered what it would be like to have a child of his own. He'd never really thought about it before. He'd always thought of one day finding a woman he loved and getting married. But children had never been a part of that dream. Until he met Carly. She'd pretty much changed his thoughts about everything. Those things that had once seemed important to him, no longer seemed to matter. When he'd been content to be alone, he now found himself wishing for a mate, someone to fill his life with subliminal joy.

He had never been in any hurry to settle down and get married. It was something, however, that he did occasional think about. But he knew now was not the time to get involved with anyone. His life was a mess. He didn't know what his future held for him and until he did, there was no point in trying to establish a meaningful relationship with anyone.

He entered Ms. Kendall's room carrying a brown leather briefcase. The first thing he noticed were the overly large cut outs of pumpkins and apples and animals of every kind. Book shelves lined both sides of the room and were filled to capacity with every kind of book imaginable.

The next thing Gilmore noticed was how striking Ms. Kendall was. She was tall and she wore a floral print skirt and a pale pink sweater. She had brunette hair that she swept up into a neat bun at the back of her neck. Her eyes were big and brown and flecked by thick black eyelashes. Her smile was tender, yet there was a confidence about her that told him she was comfortable with who she was.

He realized he was starring.

“Officer Gilmore?” she asked softly. Her voice was like velvet. Smooth and flawless.

“Yes,” he responded, holding out his hand. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I'm sure you have a very busy schedule.”

Ms. Kendall swept her hand around the room and she smiled warmly ignoring his outstretched hand. “As you can see, there isn't any where for us to sit in here, so I'm suggesting we move to the teacher's lounge, if that's alright with you. I believe you'll find it more suitable there.”

“Yes, of course,” Gilmore responded. He stepped aside and allowed Ms. Kendall to proceed him down the hallway. He moved in beside her and tried to keep himself from tripping over his own feet and further embarrassing himself.

Gilmore could smell the soft scent of green apples lingering in the air. For a moment he felt awkward and strangely euphoric. He wondered if Ms. Kendall felt it too. He knew he was being ridiculous not to mention improper. He had no business thinking of Ms. Kendall in any way other than in a professional capacity. He had to stay calm and in control. Otherwise he might come off looking like a complete idiot. What would she think of him if he made a fool of himself?

Finally they reached the teacher's lounge. Gilmore opened the door for the teacher and she entered the small room giving him a silent nod of thanks. Her eyes held his for a moment longer than he thought it appropriate under normal circumstances. Then quickly she turned her head and moved toward a wooden table in the center of the room.

Gilmore pulled a chair out for Ms. Kendall and she lowered herself into it. He took the chair across from her so that they could easily see one another without straining their necks. He felt her knees close to his own and he felt a tremor of nerves travel down his spine.

He opened up his briefcase and removed yellow pad of paper then he took a ball point pen from the pocket of his shirt. He met her gaze squarely and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Ms. Kendall, I want to express my appreciation for taking the time to meet with me. I'm hoping that you might shed some light on Carly's current situation. As I understand it, you were the one who requested my first visit to the house.”

Ms. Kendall eyed him with cool admiration. “That's correct, Officer Gilmore. Carly was a sweet child,” she admitted, her eyes softening as she spoke of the small child. “We have a very special relationship. It took a lot of work, but she finally came around.”

“What do you mean exactly?” Officer Gilmore questioned.

Ms. Kendall glanced down at her hands that were clasped together. The look on her face turned sad and dismal. The she lifted her chin and met his stare straight on.

“Carly was an unusual child. She came from a difficult home life. The first few weeks she was in my class, she barely said a word. Most of the time she'd crawl into a corner of the room and that's where she'd stay. It took a lot of coaxing to get her out of there.”

Ms. Kendall's voice fell somber as she continued.

“I realized that Carly had special needs and that she did not trust many people, if any. From some of the things Carly told me, I began to suspect abuse in the home. That's why I requested an officer to visit her mother. I was hoping . . . “ Ms. Kendall's voice trailed off as tears came to her eyes. “I can't imagine what the poor girl is going through right now. I somehow feel responsible. Maybe had I acted sooner, none of this would have happened.”

Gilmore placed his hands on top of Ms. Kendall's and gave her a gentle squeeze. “None of this is your fault, Ms. Kendall. You need to understand that. Because you cared, you saved her life.”

Gilmore was silent for a moment, but he continued holding Ms. Kendall's hands. “If you want to know the truth, I feel responsible too.”

Ms. Kendall's eyes glowed with surprise. “How can that be possible?” she asked meekly. “You pulled her out of that burning home.”

Gilmore straightened and pulled his hands away. Suddenly he felt cold and shaken.

“Had I done what I should have done in the first place, she wouldn't have been in that house the night of that fire. She would have been in the custody of Child Protective Services. For that I will never forgive myself.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Ms. Kendall quietly examined Officer Gilmore and as she did, she felt a mixture of compassion and understanding. She was adept at reading people and she could easily determine that though Officer Gilmore was a strong, handsome and masculine man, underneath it all it was a gentle creature full of sensitivity and genuine honesty. Something she hadn't seen in a long time. But what she also saw was a man broken in spirit, short on hope, and uncertain of his future.

Ms. Kendall felt the need to reach out to him on a level other than that of a professional nature. She wanted to reach into his heart and soothe away his pain, his guilt. He was torturing himself for something that was in no way his fault.

“Officer Gilmore,” she said tentatively, “I'm sure this is difficult for you, but I believe you did the right thing. Carly is alive because of your heroic efforts. Had you not come to her house that night, she would have been killed along with her mother.”

Gilmore didn't know how to respond to her comments. He just sat there for a moment digesting what she had said. He thought about everything that had happened that night and nothing made sense. He was confused and disturbed. Somehow he had to find a way to prove Carly's innocence and get her out of that place.

“Ms. Kendall.” Gilmore watched her from across the table. She was relaxed yet poised. Her features were delicate, her eyes luminescent. She had a smooth olive complexion that blended well with the color of her hair. Overall she was a lovely woman. One of the loveliest he'd ever seen. She stirred something in him.

“Ms. Kendall,” he repeated, “I'm going against protocol here, and I am requesting that we refer to each other on a first name basis. I feel a need to make this line of questioning as informal as possible. I want you to feel completely at ease. Do you have a problem with that request?”

Ms. Kendall smiled politely. “Not at all. I'm willing to answer any of your questions, no matter how difficult they might be.”

“Well then,” Gilmore nodded. “My name is Dean. I've been on the Colorado Police Force for six months. This is my first murder investigation. I'll have to be honest with you though.”

“What about?”

Gilmore hesitated. For a moment guilt and sorrow flashed in his eyes.

“I may be removed from the case. There's an investigation going on to see if I were neglectful in handling Carly's case, therefore putting her in jeopardy. If I am found guilty I will have my badge and gun taken away from me and I will never again be allowed the honor of being a police officer.”

Ms. Kendall's expression was grave. “How likely is the outcome that you will be found guilty.”

Dean shrugged. His expression was stony, grave. “At the moment, it is very likely. And that presents a problem.”

“What would that be?”

Gilmore had a hard time looking her in the eyes. It took a moment before he lifted his face to look at her. His face was harsh with anger. His eyes were tormented.

“I'm the only one who thinks Carly is innocent. If I'm removed from the case, no one will care enough to find out the truth. Carly will never get out of that place. Her life will be ruined. I have to help find the real killer before it's too late.”

“How can I help?”

“By answering a few questions for me,” Gilmore informed her firmly. “I need the truth. The entire truth. No matter how frightened you might be, please tell me everything you know.”

Ms. Kendall shifted in her seat. Then she crossed her arms and leaned forward, close to Dean's ear. She whispered lightly with a serious expression on her face.

“I've been called a lot of things, Officer Gilmore. But I've never been called a coward.”

She leaned back in her chair to gouge his reaction to her words. His face was hard and unyielding.

“Do you understand we are dealing with a murderer, Ms. Kendall?” Gilmore asked roughly.

“Of course I do. Carly Singleton didn't deserve what life dealt her. She's an innocent victim. I sincerely believe that with all my heart. I will do whatever it takes to find that killer and make sure that he pays for his crime.”

Dean touched Ms. Kendall's hand and held it tenderly in his own. “He could come after you.”

“I'm fully aware of that,' she said without feeling. “It's a risk I'm willing to take.”

“Then you must care an awful lot for that little girl.”

Without hesitation she responded with fervor in her voice, “I love Carly. And I can see that you care a great deal about her as well.”

Gilmore shook his head. “I do indeed. I'm her only hope. Everyone at the police forces believes that I'm crazy. They believe Carly committed the murder. I don't buy it. The truth is someone set the fire to kill her too to keep her from talking. I'm convinced of it.”

“So am I,” Ms. Kendall state emphatically. “I will help you in any way I can.”

She hesitated, then she smiled politely. An inferno blazed inside of him setting every limb on fire.

“So before I start questioning you,” Gilmore said on a lighter side, “what shall I call you?”

“My name is Cynthia. Cynthia Kendall.”

Gilmore grinned as he snatched his pen from the table and poised it in the air as he prepared to write. He scribbled the date and Cynthia's name on a single piece of yellow paper. Then he eyed her speculatively.

“How long have you known Carly?” he asked with a detached air about him. He needed to retain his focus and keep this as professional as possible.

“I've known Carly about six months. Unfortunately she has a problem with absenteeism. Because of it she was missing from my class a good part of that time.”

“Would you say she was a difficult child to manage?”

“Absolutely not. She was shy, but sweet. She didn't make friends very well. It was hard for her to come out of her shell. As I said before she had trust issues.”

Gilmore scribbled his notes with a serious expression on his face. His eyes burned with passion. Cynthia could see the desire in his eyes, the desire to catch a killer and set a young girl free.

“What was her mother like?”

“I never actually met her. I spoke with her once on the phone. It wasn't a very pleasant experience.”

“Why is that?”

For a moment Gilmore stopped writing and just listened. He watched the way Cynthia's lips moved when she spoke. Her voice was soft, almost mournful.

“I tried to talk to Mrs. Singleton about Carly's repeated absences from my class. I told her how important it was for Carly to attend classes every day and to do her home work. The woman yelled at me, told me it was none of my business where her child did or didn't do.”

“What did you say to that?”

Cynthia stiffened as she abruptly shifted in her chair. Her face saddened as she remembered that night just a few months ago.

“I told her an education was the most important thing in a child's life. Without an education Carly wouldn't be able to make it in the world.”

“And what did Mrs. Singleton say to that?”

Cynthia laughed bitterly.

“She said Carly didn't have what it took to be anything more than what she was.”

“Which was?”

“Carly was a lost child. A young girl with no hope. She was frightened most of the time and because of that fear she had a hard time fitting in with society.”

“Did you think Carly was stupid?”

“Not at all. She was a bright child. She tried very hard to please me. When she attended classes she excelled over all the other students. It made her proud.. Only she had no one to share that with. At least no one who cared.”

Gilmore went back to writing on his note pad. Inside he was feeling a little resentful. He felt anger beginning to build in his blood. What kind of woman was Eloise Singleton? She seemed cold and heartless. Unfeeling. Selfish and uncaring. For a brief moment he thought maybe Carly was better off the way things had turned out. Then he felt guilty for having such a thought.

“Was her mother abusive?”

“Her mother drank a lot. Almost every night. From what Carly said, she did street drugs as well. I can't imagine what Carly had to endure when she went home. She was small and thin for her age. At times I'm sure there was very little food in the house for her to eat.”

“What about men. Did her mother have men coming and going all hours of the night?”

There was a hesitation before Cynthia stood from the table and walked over to a small window on the other side of the room. She stared out into the fading sunlight. For a long time she didn't speak.

“The only man that Carly ever mentioned was her father. He came in and out of her life as if it were nothing. Carly was terrified of him. The things that man would do to her was unspeakable, unforgivable. Sometimes I thought of killing him myself.”

She laughed lightly and turned from the window to peer at Gilmore. Then she grew weary and sad. “I suppose I shouldn't have said that,” she confessed. “If he comes up dead, I just might become your prime suspect.”

Gilmore placed his pen on the pad and rose from his chair. He slowly walked across the room to stand beside her. They weren't touching, but the heat of their bodies surrounded them engulfing them in a pleasant, intoxicating sensation. Gilmore's breathing was slightly labored.

“I would never consider you a suspect, Ms. Kendall,” Gilmore admitted. “I can see in your eyes your true beauty and innocence. I know that you could never kill anyone.”

Suddenly the interrogation was taking a turn in a direction Cynthia had not expected. For an instant she felt indecisive and a bit feeble. Gilmore must have read her expression well for abruptly he returned to his chair. It was a short while before he began asking questions again.

“Do you happen to know Carly's father's name? Do you happen to have an address, a phone number, a place of employment?”

“All I can tell you is that his name is Aadan Singleton. He works for one of those work source agencies.”

“Are you referring to one of those agencies that hires people on a day to day basis to work for other companies doing odd jobs?”

“Yes, that is correct. But I'm afraid I don't know the name of the agency.”

“It shouldn't be that hard to find the agency. I'm sure there aren't that many in this part of town.”

Gilmore slapped his pen down on his pad marking the end of his interrogation. He startled Cynthia and she jumped. He could see that she had become uneasy and uncomfortable in his presence. He'd made her feel disconcerted and he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to make that go away. Suddenly her eyes seemed hollow and lifeless.

He opened his briefcase and tossed his pen and pad inside. Then he closed it and clamped the locks shut. He stood.

He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want things to end like this. Some how he had hoped things would turn out differently. He had wanted to ask Cynthia if she would like to go see Carly with him, but he knew that now wasn't the right time. If there had been any type of attraction on her part, he had squelched it with his careless comment about her beauty and innocence. How stupid could he be? Even to himself he had sounded like an idiot. He'd managed to embarrass himself twice in one day.

He felt like an inexperienced teenager. After all he hadn't had the opportunity to meet or date many women. His only girlfriend had been Rebecca Reed and that relationship had ended well over two years ago.

The relationship had lasted only a year. They'd been so different from one another and because of their differences they had fought all the time. After a while it seemed pointless to try and carry on the relationship anymore.

It hadn't taken him long to get over Rebecca. He had bounced back rather quickly. But he had been in no hurry to get back into another relationship. Even now he wasn't sure that's what he wanted.

He found Cynthia undeniably attractive. She seemed pure and wise beyond her years. He imagined her to be about twenty-five. If he were looking for a wife, which he wasn't, he knew she'd be the one.

There was just something about her that captivated him, made him feel things he'd never felt before. A part of that was their connection to Carly Singleton. But part of it had nothing to do with her at all. He was certain that Cynthia felt it to.

Gilmore knew he could no longer prolong their meeting. Reluctantly he held out his hand to say good-bye. When she didn't take it, he smiled and headed for the door. Just before he left, he turned to Cynthia with grim eyes and said, “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Ms. Kendall. That was never my intent. I was wrong and I apologize for my unprofessional behavior. You don't have to worry about me. I have all the information I need. I shouldn't have to come back here for any reason.”

Then very quietly and very quickly he disappeared from the room.

Cynthia felt the earth move beneath her feet. She made her way to the table and sat down before she could fall to the ground. She felt shaken. Even though Gilmore was gone, it felt as if his presence were still there.

She found it puzzling. Never before had she responded like this with any man. She had dated a few men the last couple of years, but none of them had touched her like Dean had. There was something about him that she found fascinating.

She wasn't ready to feel this strongly about a man she barely knew. It was completely insane and utterly ridiculous. She tried to shrug off the feelings as she returned to her classroom. But thoughts of Officer Gilmore kept coming back to her.