“Initially, he acted confused.Claimed he had no idea what I was talking about.But I extracted confessions from teenagers for many years, Deputy.I know how to wait out a lie.”A smile flickered briefly across her face.“Alcohol loosened his tongue eventually.He actually boasted about it, saying Roger ‘had it coming.’“
“Did he say why?”Jenna asked.
Ms.Drummond shook her head.“I tried to get him to elaborate, but he suddenly seemed to realize what he’d admitted.His demeanor changed completely—defensive, quarrelsome.He tried to walk back his confession, claimed he’d never said any such thing.”
“And then?”Jenna watched Ms.Drummond’s face carefully.
“I left.There was no point in continuing a conversation with someone in that state.I hadn’t planned to post anything on TownCircle until I could speak with Roger again.I wanted to understand what might have provoked Derek’s vandalism before going public with his admission.”
Something about Ms.Drummond’s story nagged at Jenna.The account was too neat, too perfectly constructed—like a lesson plan without room for the messiness of real human interaction.
Jenna studied the woman before her.Ms.Drummond had always been slight, but there was wiry strength in her frame, the kind built from decades of maintaining classroom discipline.A woman who could control thirty rowdy teenagers wouldn’t need much physical strength to overpower one drunk man from behind.
“Ms.Drummond,” she said carefully, “where were you between 1:30 and 3:30 this morning?”
The change was instantaneous.Ms.Drummond went rigid, her chin lifting as if pulled by invisible strings.“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s a standard question,” Jenna kept her tone neutral.“We’re asking everyone who had contact with Derek last night.”
“I was here, of course.In my bed, asleep, like any reasonable person would be at that hour.”Ms.Drummond’s voice had taken on a dangerous edge.“Though I suppose you realize no one can confirm that alibi, making me an easy target for your insinuations.”
Jake shifted uncomfortably beside Jenna.“Ma’am, no one is—”
“Twenty years,” Ms.Drummond cut him off.“That’s how long you’ve been holding grudges against me, isn’t it, Jenna?Because I gave you a B- on your senior thesis when you believed you deserved an A?”
“This isn’t personal,” Jenna replied.
“Isn’t it?Now that you’ve found your sister, you need a new project.And what better than to humiliate the teacher who wouldn’t give you an A that you didn’t deserve?”Ms.Drummond stood abruptly, her chair sliding back with a harsh scrape against the hardwood.“I believe this interview is over.I’ve provided the information about Roger Dixon as a courtesy to law enforcement.What you do with it is your business.”
Jake rose first.“Thank you for your time,” he said, already edging toward the door.
“We may have additional questions,” Jenna added, unwilling to let Ms.Drummond have the final word.
“And I may choose not to answer them without my attorney present.”Ms.Drummond followed them through the dining room, her steps quick and precise.“Sheriff Graves, I suggest you focus your investigation on Roger Dixon.His temper is legendary, and his threats were explicit.”
At the front door, Ms.Drummond paused.For a moment, something flashed across her face—doubt, perhaps, or something deeper.But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
“Be careful,” she said, her voice suddenly softer.“Rage makes people unpredictable.”
The door closed behind them with a decisive click.
Jenna stepped off Brenda Drummond’s porch, the September sun a harsh contrast to the chill that had settled in the retired teacher’s house.She waited until they were halfway down the garden path, safely beyond the windows’ sight lines, before letting her shoulders drop from their defensive posture.Beside her, Jake expelled a breath that suggested he’d been holding it since Ms.Drummond’s parting words.
“That was...”he started, glancing back at the yellow house.
“Exactly what I expected and somehow worse,” Jenna finished, her voice low.“Some things never change.Twenty years later and she can still make me feel sixteen and inadequate.”
Jake unlocked the car with a soft chirp.“She certainly has an agenda.Question is, was she trying to hide something by pointing us so forcefully toward Roger Dixon?”
Jenna slid into the passenger seat, grateful to let Jake drive again while her mind processed the interview.“I don’t know, but we need to talk to him.If Roger really did threaten to kill Derek over a keyed car...”
“Already mapping the route,” Jake said, tapping the GPS screen.“Dixon’s Small Engine Repair is about fifteen minutes from here.”
As they pulled away from the curb, Jenna caught a flicker of movement behind Brenda’s living room curtains.The woman was watching them leave, her face a pale oval in the shadows.The hairs on Jenna’s neck prickled.
“Do you really think Roger would kill someone for scratching his car?”Jake asked as they turned onto Maple Street.“I mean, I’ve dealt with him on noise complaints.He’s unpleasant, sure, but murder is a big jump from being a town crank.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted.“People have killed for less.And that car means everything to him—it’s the one thing in his life he has complete control over, that responds exactly as he expects it to.”She paused.“But there’s something about Brenda …”
