“Did anyone seem to pay particular attention to Heather? Or perhaps notice anything unusual in the months leading up to her death?”
“Nothing comes to mind,” Kyle said as he rested a hand against his wife’s lower back. Theo understood his desire to be protective after such a devastating tragedy. “Heather was well-liked, as is her family.”
Faith began to nod in agreement before her eyes widened fractionally. She turned to Kyle, her fingers tightening on the clipboard.
“Actually,” Faith said, her voice filled with caution, “somethingdidhappen that was unusual.”
“And what would that be, Mrs. Wheat?”
“Remember the fundraising festival?” Faith asked Kyle, her voice rising with the peculiar emphasis others use to jogsomeone's memory. “It took place a few months before…well, you know.”
Kyle's brow furrowed momentarily, his lips parting with uncertainty before closing again. He glanced at his wife, as if he were hoping for some clarification. His wife exhaled in impatience as she once again focused on Theo.
“The old school organized a few fundraisers in hopes of receiving enough money for renovations," Faith explained, her voice taking on a storyteller's cadence. “As you can see, it didn’t work. Anyway, the small festival was held in the parking lot. Local businesses set up booths, donated prizes. It was a huge thing, and the entire town turned out for it.”
“I remember that I set up a photo booth that year. One of those old-style strip photos with props and backgrounds, but I still don’t know why that’s important.”
“Heather was in charge of the art booth,” Faith continued, basically ignoring her husband at this point. “She sold pieces from local artists, plus work from her students. All proceeds going to the school, of course.”
“And did you notice something unusual?” Theo asked, hoping to prompt Faith into revealing more details.
“Yes. Well, no.” Faith held the clipboard a little closer to her chest. “Maybe. You see, Figg Whitlow was there, too.”
Kyle’s facial expression suddenly revealed his memories from that time. He gave her an apologetic smile while nodding to encourage her to finish explaining her recollection.
“Figg owns the tattoo parlor in Harrowick. He has a shop on Main Street. Believe it or not, people come from miles away just to have an appointment with him. He’s very talented,” Faith stressed, as if she were front-running the compliments to balance out whatever it was she was about to divulge. “Figg helped out back then, of course. He was doing temporary tattoos for the kids and real ones for adults.”
Theo stemmed his impatience, having dealt with many individuals over the years who preferred to paint a larger picture than was technically necessary to get their point across.
“A group of us were walking to our car when we noticed Figg and Heather were…talking.”
“Faith means arguing,” Kyle said, leaning forward as he lowered his voice. He’d also caught the two mothers staring at them from across the lobby. “No one really knew what they were fighting about, but it was heated enough that Figg slammed his hand on the trunk of Heather's car. He caught sight of our group. They spoke maybe another few seconds before he got on his Harley Davidson and peeled out of the parking lot.”
“Did you ask Heather about it?”
“No,” Faith interjected with a frown. “She immediately got into her car and drove away. It really wasn’t any of my business, either. It’s not like they were dating or anything.”
“Figg is a nice guy,” Kyle interjected quickly, as if he were afraid word would get out that Faith brought up the argument between Figg and Heather. “He’s just a little temperamental. Always has been.”
“I didn't mean to suggest otherwise,” Faith said, realizing how her story had come across. “Everyone has disagreements. For all we know, she bumped into his bike or something when she was carrying stuff back to her car.”
The backpedaling was as informative as the original disclosure. Theo registered how quickly they'd pivoted to defending someone they'd just implicated in an aggressive confrontation with the victim. It spoke volumes about the town's protective instincts toward its own.
“I appreciate your candor,” Theo said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He extracted a business card and offered it to them. Kyle took it, glancing briefly at the embossed S&E Investigations logo before handing it off to Faith. “If youremember anything else about Heather—any interactions that struck you as unusual—please call me directly. Even small details can be significant.”
“Of course,” Faith said as she clipped his business card to the clipboard. “We hope you find who killed her.”
As Theo turned to head toward the administration office, he noted that the two women by the display quickly turned to face one another. By lunchtime, everyone in Harrowick would know Figg Whitlow had an altercation with Heather Moore.
Even the man himself.
Theo had just handed the town a new piece of gossip. Sometimes, that was exactly what an investigation needed.
11
Brooklyn Sloane
January 2026
