Jeff and Emory walked up the gravel driveway to the Claymon’s trailer, uncertain about the reception they would receive. Emory knocked on the front door. “I hope this family doesn’t hold a grudge.”
Abigail answered the door. “What do you want?”
“Mrs. Claymon, we’re sorry for the intrusion, but we’d like to speak to Dan for a moment.”
“When are you people going to leave us alone? No one in my family had nothing to do with anything illegal.”
“We’re not here about that—” Jeff began, before Emory touched his arm.
“I promise you, we’re not here to accuse anyone of anything.”
Jeff told her, “As a matter of fact, we’ve proven that your husband had nothing to do with the missing water at the factory.”
Mrs. Claymon’s face softened. “What?”
“It was Scot Trousdale,” Jeff said. “Victor Algarotti’s assistant.”
“And he let my Charlie take the blame?”
“He’s going to pay for everything he did,” Emory assured her. “He’s in jail now.”
“Does this mean Charlie can have his job back?”
Emory answered, “He’d have to discuss that with the foreman. Could we talk to Dan?”
“What for?”
“We just need a little more information that might be helpful in solving Britt’s murder.”
A few moments later, Emory, Jeff, Dan and Abigail were all sitting around the kitchen table while Charlie Claymon spoke on the phone in the other room. Dan was telling them, “Yeah, Ian gets picked on a lot. I felt a little obligated to watch out for him because he’s Britt’s brother.”
Emory asked, “Can you tell us what happened last year in Rick Roberts’ chemistry class? There was some cheating scandal?”
“Oh, that. Me and Ian were lab partners, which was kind of embarrassing because he’s four years younger than me, and we were both taking Chem II. Honestly, though, he carried me in that class. One day we had a lab assignment that we had to finish in class – don’t ask me what it was exactly, but it was mixing some chemical with some others and explaining what we were seeing by writing out the chemical equations. I hate chemistry. Ian got it right away and wrote out everything in his lab book with really detailed descriptions, but I didn’t get it at all. He started trying to explain it to me, but class was almost over, so he didn’t have time. He took my lab book from me and starting writing the chemical equations and the reasons behind the experiment’s results. I was watching him while he wrote, trying to understand it. I didn’t notice that Mr. Roberts was walking around to check on everyone’s work. He saw Ian’s lab book closed, and he asked, ‘Ian, are you writing in Dan’s lab book?’ Ian turned white as a ghost and tried to tell him there wasn’t enough time, but Mr. Roberts accused him of cheating and took both our lab books away.” Dan pursed his lips and shook his head. “I felt so bad for him. The next day, Mr. Roberts handed us back our books with a big red F on the assignment. It wasn’t my first F, so I didn’t care, but Ian was crushed. For the rest of the year, he didn’t even speak anymore in that class, and Mr. Roberts never called on him again.”
“That explains the C for the semester,” Jeff said.
“Did Ian threaten Mr. Roberts?” asked Emory.
“Not to his face. He sure said it to me enough, how much he wanted him dead. I’ve never known anyone to hate a teacher that much.” As if he just realized what he had said, Dan told them, “I know he was just venting. He wouldn’t ever do anything like that. He’s just a kid.”
Jeff glanced at Emory and then redirected. “How did Britt get along with her brother?”
“He annoyed the crap out of her, so she was kind of hateful to him – always making fun of him and telling him to go away whenever they happened to see each other at school. I don’t have a little brother, but I figure that’s normal. Plus, I think Britt just hated that he skipped grades and got into high school with her. I think it embarrassed her.”
Emory asked, “How did Ian respond to her hatefulness toward him?”
“It didn’t seem to bother him. I think he got used to it. He loved his sister.” Dan crossed his arms. “I always thought he was kind of nice to have around. He likes doing things for people.”
Jeff asked, “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Little things. Like with helping me in class. He’d always fix me something to drink when I came over to his house. Things like that.”
Charlie Claymon hung up the phone and entered the kitchen with a big grin on his face. “I got my job back!”
Charlie Claymon didn’t know it at the time, but his elation would be short-lived.
As they drove away from the Claymons, Jeff told Emory, “I hope Victor doesn’t try to weasel out of the reward when he finds out who killed his daughter.”
“I don’t know. He’s thirteen. I know teenagers kill, but they’re usually spree or passion killings – not three separate, well-planned murders. He just seems so young.”
“Damien was in preschool when he started killing people.”
Emory snickered at the comparison that Jeff loved to make. “Damien’s not real, and Ian’s not the anti-Christ. Look, after everything Victor’s been through, I don’t want to bring his son in for questioning without being much more certain that he is the one that we’re after. If he has anything to do with either of the murders or the attempted murder, we’re going to have to prove it before we can touch him.”
As the car turned onto the main road, in the opposite direction of the Algarotti house, Jeff told him, “So let’s find the proof you need to arrest him.”
“I need to head back to Knoxville before it gets too late. He’s not going anywhere.”
“I’m more concerned with his potential victims.”
“Pristine’s safe in the hospital, and if he is the killer, I think the last person he’d want to hurt is his father after seeing those pictures.”
“I see your point. Hey, would you mind giving me a ride back here tomorrow?”
“Your car still not ready?”
“No, and Virginia’s got to be in the office, so she can’t drive me.”
“You can ride with me, but I have to warn you that Wayne is going to be with me.”
Jeff moaned and said, “That’s just great. Can’t he drive himself?”
“We’re partners.”
“So you’re saying you’re stuck with him.”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“I’ve seen you two in action. You can’t tell me that he adds anything worthwhile to your investigations. I read the articles on the drug bust. He’s a shadow anchor. I bet you would’ve had that case closed at least a month sooner if he hadn’t led you down false paths.”
Emory agreed with everything Jeff was saying, but he needed to defend his partner. “He spots some things I don’t see.”
“Fine, I’ll bring him a Where’s Waldo? book for the car ride. Is it too soon to call shotgun?”