“He didn’t speak much of his high school years. When he did, it wasn’t entirely happy. I’ve found in counseling that a lot of how people become who they are as adults — for better or worse — traces to adolescence.” Kirstin slid into professional speak, clearly a comfortable mode. “Not solely high school, but it is the core period. It’s not that we’re stuck in always being who we were in high school, but the processes we develop often endure. Especially if we don’t disrupt them.
“It’s a core period in other ways, including what’s called the reminiscence bump. Given random prompts, adults’ recollections will disproportionately come from the teens and early twenties. An aspect of that is people’s preferences in music are often set in that period for the rest of their lives. A phenomenon that’s kept a lot of aging musicians in business.”
Clara and I both echoed her quick smile. But I didn’t want to let this go too far down the track of her shop talk.
“What was Glenn’s process?”
She was silent so long I started hearing phrases in my head about professional confidentiality, not to mention husband-wife confidentiality.
I threw out another potential starter. “How did he become who he is as an adult?”
“He grew into his intelligence. He was always smart. How he handled it in high school was to be quiet, especially about the things that most interested him, including technology. He did his best to blend into the background. He once told me—” She flicked a look toward Clara, as if prefacing what she was about to say with Is this true? “—that when he was announced as valedictorian, students said there must be a mistake because there was no one by that name in their class.”
“I never heard that,” Clara said. “I—”
“I did,” I interrupted. “A variant of it, anyway.” I related what I’d heard of the conversation between Glenn and Josepha Viedux. “I wonder if the sheriff’s department knows….”
Kirstin made a small sound of protest.
“Their knowing should help him,” Clara said. “From Sheila’s account, he obviously wasn’t the least bothered by Josepha’s attempt to get under his skin.”
I kept my gaze down. Afraid it would show that I was thinking it might make the sheriff’s department wonder if Josepha Viedux had made a second attempt and been more successful.
“Let’s back up and get the background,” I said.
We started with a more organized rendition of what we’d gathered Friday night, including the names and dates of businesses, their address, Glenn’s degrees.
Remembering the dearth of information online, I asked, “How old are your kids?”
“Eight, six, and three.”
“Oh, dear, who’s taking care of them?” Clara asked.
“My mother and father. They’re there at the house with them. So they’re okay.”
“That must be such a relief to know they’re well-cared for.”
“It is. Without my parents there…” She didn’t need to explain that this would be even more difficult, perhaps dividing her loyalties, certainly wanting to be in two places at once.
“You must be all over social media to share photos of the kids with family,” I said.
“No social media. I had accounts before Glenn and I got together, but he’s adamant about not using it. Certainly not with the kids. He’s very security conscious, especially about our digital lives. It’s also important for business reasons to keep his online presence in line with his professional standing.”
That made some sense. I still wasn’t completely convinced.
“Do you know of any connection to Josepha Viedux?”
Her right eyelid twitched. She’d expected another question. A harder one. “None at all that I know of. He’s never even mentioned her name.”
I hit her with the harder one.
“Tell us about Glenn and Heidi Holmes.”
She’d been ready for that from the start.
“They dated their senior year, but broke up before the end of the year. Never had contact after.”
“Who broke up? Why?” I asked.
She jerked her head to the side. “That’s Glenn’s business.”
“If we’re going to help—”
“She died twenty years ago. What can it possibly have to do with this?”
Good question.
Except it certainly had been the focus of Glenn’s interest Friday night at The Tavern and Saturday when he went to the library.
Clara eased the taut silence. “Tell us about who you and Glenn talked to at the reunion and what you talked about.”
It was a great question. I listened carefully to what Kirstin said. But didn’t harvest anything more than reunion chit-chat.
From Kirstin’s account, Glenn’s only encounter with Josepha had been the brief one I overheard. That didn’t mean there hadn’t been another that neither she nor I witnessed.
After we stood to end this meeting, I said one more thing to the worried woman.
“Kirstin, whatever Glenn said, you need to call those lawyers.”