Barclay, Linwood Novel 08 - Never saw it coming

raises new ones. Like, how do I move on, knowing what I know? Right now, Cyn’s kind of taking some time to herself.”
    “You’re separated?”
    He shook his head. “No, no, not that. Not exactly. But she needs a bit of space at the moment. Grace is with me.” He shrugged. “Things’ll work out. You know, one way or another. They have to.”
    “I’m sorry,” Wedmore said. “How’s Grace been handling it?”
    “Well, she’s getting into those teen years, you know? It’s hard to know what she’s thinking. She doesn’t like to let me in.” He shrugged. “But I guess every parent of a teenage girl goes through that, right?”
    Wedmore waved her hand around the room. “When I started calling around, I didn’t think you were still teaching here.”
    “I transferred back a couple of years ago,” Archer said. “But it was good, taking some time away from this place. Listen, I got a class of aspiring first offenders who’d rather steal shopping carts than hear about Hemingway, so if there’s something I can help you—”
    “Keisha Ceylon,” Wedmore said.
    “Jesus.”
    “That got a reaction. What can you tell me about her?”
    “After they did that TV show, about it being twenty-five years since Cynthia’s parents and her brother disappeared, that woman came out of the woodwork, claiming she knew things about the case. Not first-hand knowledge, but things she’d seen in a dream or a vision or something. Cynthia and I were asked to come down to the TV station for a follow-up, so this so-called psychic could tell us on camera what she knew, but when she found out the station wasn’t giving her a thousand bucks, she clammed up.”
    “Hmm,” said Wedmore.
    “She came by the house one other time, trying to shake us down personally. Cynthia threw her out on her ass.”
    “Has she ever been in touch since?”
    Archer shook his head. “Never heard from her again.”
    “What was your sense of her?” Wedmore asked.
    A small shrug. “Two short meetings, that was it. But she was an opportunist. She liked to take advantage of people when they were at their most vulnerable. That puts her pretty high on my list of lowlifes.”
    Wedmore smiled. “Yeah, I can see that.”
    “Is she still out there, doing her thing?”
    “Maybe.”
    Something flashed in Archer’s eyes and his brow furrowed. “That thing on the news. The man and his daughter. Asking for information about his wife.”
    Wedmore nodded and extended her hand again. “Thank you for your help. I should let you get back to your students.”
    Archer tried to smile one last time, but Wedmore could sense the effort. The man wore his sadness like a jacket. “Actually, it is nice to see you again. You were a great help to us at a very dark time.”
    He slipped out of the guidance counselor’s office. Wedmore had a strange feeling, as she watched him leave, that she would see him again before long.

Twenty-four
    “Shit,” Keisha said as the banging on the door continued.
    “What are you gonna do?” Kirk said, dabbing blood from his cheek with a tissue.
    Keisha stood there, frozen, not sure whether to answer it, or escape out the back door and jump the neighbour’s fence. The latter seemed like a pretty stupid idea. If this was the cops wanting to talk to her, they probably already had someone covering the back door.
    “I’ve got no choice,” she said, took a breath, and opened the door.
    “Oh, thank God you’re home!” said Gail Beaudry, who had her hand raised, ready to knock again. The woman’s eyes were bloodshot from crying.
    “Gail?” Keisha said.
    “I
have
to talk to you!” the woman said, forcing her way into Keisha’s house. She glanced at Kirk, who was standing there, dumbfounded. “I have to talk to you
alone
.”
    “This isn’t a good time,” Keisha said. “Maybe later this week, but right now—”
    “He’s dead!” Gail blurted. “My brother’s dead.”
    “What?”
    “Someone killed my brother!”
    “Gail, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “This morning,” she said. “And they’re saying all these horrible things about Melissa. Ridiculous things! That she killed her mother. It’s all crazy. The police have everything all wrong! You have to help me! You have to make them see the truth!”
    Keisha was getting a very bad feeling. She grabbed Gail by the shoulders, steadied her and looked into her eyes. “Gail, stop, just
stop
for a second. Who’s your brother?”
    “Wendell,”