I groan and rest my head against Dalton’s shoulder.
Outside, Arturo continues, “She isn’t just breaking curfew. She’s in the forest, where she’s not supposed to be atanytime, but who cares about the rules?Shewanted an early-morning walk.”
Dalton shakes his head, but I go still. Then I pass Rory to him and open the door.
“You said Muriel was in the forest? Early this morning?”
“No, yesterday morning.”
I murmur to April, “May I take him into your office?”
She nods, and I usher Arturo in.
Arturo and I talk in April’s office, which also serves as a room for patients who need to sleep over. I’ve given Arturo the desk chair, while I lean against the bed.
“Muriel was out early yesterday,” I say. “In the woods.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You also said that no one cared. Who did you mention this to?”
He shifts, some of the belligerence leaving his voice. “I just found out this morning.”
“So you didn’t personally see her come out of the forest yesterday?”
“Someone else did, and I’m not giving you his name because he doesn’t want to start trouble. We were talking about the lockdown, what a pain in the ass it is, and he said he saw Muriel come out of the forest around dawn. He was at his window, lookingout, because, you know, we’re all boredshitlessand we can’t leave our rooms until eight thirty. He felt like he should tell someone—for security reasons—but worried that it sounded like snitching. He asked my opinion. I said I’d pass it along.”
“If I can’t get the name of the person who witnessed it, I’m going to need all the details from you. Exactly what time it was. Where she was seen. Even what she was wearing or how she was acting. Can you get that from him?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a notepad. “I have it all here.”
Arturo reminds me of those nosy neighbors that everyone hates… everyone except cops. Well, no, copsdohate them when they’re reporting nuisances, but when an actual crime happens in a residential neighborhood, that’s who you want to talk to. The stereotypical little old lady with her binoculars and notebook. She’s a pain in the ass… until her testimony catches the person who has been breaking into nearby homes.
Those nosy neighbors might tell themselves they’re keeping the street safe, but most times, they’re just looking to judge others. Likewise here, as useful as Arturo’s information is, he isn’t trying to help. He’s only feeding a grudge. But he also just handed me a major clue, one that I hope I’d have figured out when my brain had time to rest and ruminate.
We knew Muriel had been going into the forest. She’d admitted it, and while she was breaking the rules, her explanation was plausible, and supported by evidence. She was an introvert who needed alone time, and her stowed backpack proved it. She’d readily agreed to not do it again, and so I’d dropped the matter, especially since we had far more pressing issues.
But yesterday morning, we heard a woman in the forest. A woman talking to a man. After we found Gretchen in the area, it seemed to have been her. Sure, she claimed she was nearby because she also heard the voices, but I hadn’t been completely convinced of that.
Once I had time to rest, I would have come back to this and—I hope—put two and two together. Who did we hear? Maybe the woman who’d admitted to being in the forest alone before her early-morning shifts.
Except, if that was Muriel, shewasn’talone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I’m in the town hall with Muriel. I’ve asked Kendra to join us. She’s not there as an official witness—she’s making coffee and then puttering about, as if putting in some work time. But whenever I conduct a potentially adversarial interview, I want a witness. Kendra is the right one for this job. She’s not officially law enforcement, and she’s so universally well liked that her presence should put Muriel at ease.
I lean into that impression. This is not an interrogation. Not a hostile interview. Just me chatting with a resident about an annoying little issue that doesn’t seem to be resolving itself.
“I hate to call you in on this again,” I say as I serve her coffee. “I thought it was wrapped up, and it’s certainly the least of our concerns right now, but I need to address it.”
She frowns. “Is it my schedule? I’m working my full hours. Even a bit extra.”
“No, it’s the curfew. We have an eyewitness who saw you coming out of the forest around dawn yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” The frown deepens. “Are you sure it wasn’t a few days ago? We already discussed that.”
“Yes, but this was yesterday. After the curfew was in place.”
