“She’s handling this horrible thing so well, really. Still, she had nightmares last night. It’s terrible of me, I suppose, but all I keep wishing is that it had been another child to find him with Melodie. Is there anything more? Something you didn’t want to say in front of Rayleen?”
“Can you tell us if you, your daughter, or your husband had any trouble with Mr. Foster?’
“Trouble? No. He was Rayleen’s favorite teacher, really. Top marks across the board in his class. Rayleen’s an exceptional student. Craig made her class leader. She’s also class leader in her Literature class and in Computer Sciences. She loves school.”
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Foster?”
“At the last parent-teacher conference in, hmmm, November. No, no, I’m sorry, that’s wrong. It would’ve been at the holiday party in December. The school suspends the last two classes of the day, and the parents or guardians are invited. The school orchestra and choral group play, and that can be interesting,” she added with a quick laugh. “There’re refreshments after the program. I saw him there, spoke with him. Rayleen gave him a little gift. A coffee mug she’d made in pottery class. This is all so tragic. I wish I could keep her home.”
She kneaded her fingers on her thighs. “Ray’s determined not to miss school, and my husband’s very firm about her continuing classes, the normalcy. I’m outvoted,” she said with a quick smile. “I suppose they’re both right, but it’s hard to send her there after this.”
“Did Mr. Foster ever speak to you about Mr. Williams?”
“Mr. Williams?” There it was—that flicker over the face that was shock and guilt and a little bit of fear. “Not that I can recall. Why would he?”
“You and Mr. Williams are friendly.”
“I try to be friendly with all the staff at Sarah Child.”
“More friendly with some than others.”
“I don’t like your implication, and I don’t understand it.” She got to her feet, but the gesture was one of panic rather than authority. “I think you should go now.”
“Sure, we can do that. We’ll just go by your husband’s office, discuss this with him.”
“Wait.” Allika held up a hand as Eve started to rise. “Wait. I don’t know what you’ve heard or what you believe, but…” She glanced toward the foyer, took a quiet breath as she heard Rayleen chattering with Cora as they left for school. “It’s not your concern, it’s not your business.”
“Anything that touches on Craig Foster is our business.”
“My personal life…You have no reason to talk to Oliver about…about gossip.”
“Did Foster know about you and Reed Williams? Did he tell you, tell Williams he would report your affair?”
“It wasn’t an affair! It was…it was a lapse, a momentary lapse. I broke it off weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“Because I came to my senses.” She pushed at her hair. “I have…with the holidays coming, I have trouble with depression. Our son, our Trev, died three years ago, Christmas morning.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Straffo,” Peabody put in. “How did he die?”
“He…” Allika sank down again. “We were spending the holiday at our home…We had a home in Connecticut. He, he wasn’t quite two. Trev. And he was so excited about Santa. He got out of bed early. It was still dark when…He fell, he fell down the stairs. Such a long way, such a little boy. He must have been running, they said, running down to see what Santa had brought, and he fell and his neck…”
“I’m very sorry,” Peabody repeated. “I don’t think anything can be more difficult for a parent.”
“I broke to pieces. It took months of treatment to put me back together. I don’t think I’ll ever be completely back, or that I should be back. But we had Rayleen. We had another child, and she needed us. We don’t have the house in Connecticut, but we have Ray, and she deserves a normal life.”
“You became involved with Reed Williams,” Eve prompted, “because you were depressed.”
“I know it’s not an excuse; I knew it as it was happening. As Christmas gets close, I hurt, and when I hurt, I shut down some part of me. Reed—it helped block it out, that’s all. It was exciting, and it was foolish. My husband and I, we aren’t the same people we were before Trevor died. But we’re trying, we keep trying. I was stupid and selfish, and if he finds out, it will hurt him. I don’t want that.”
“And if Foster had reported it?”
“He didn’t know.” She laid a hand on her throat, rubbing, rubbing as if at an ache. “I don’t see how he could have. He never said anything to me, and we talked—I told you—at the holiday party. It was a mistake, yes, but it was just sex. Only twice. Only twice. It didn’t mean anything more than that to me or to Reed.”
“Did Williams say anything to you about Foster?”
“We didn’t do a lot of talking. It was physical, it was shallow, then it was over.”