Page 114 of I Will Ruin You
But that revelation did nothing to stop Bonnie from shaking. Marta released her hold on her and took a closer look at the dead man. She could see that Bonnie was right, that it was obvious that this man, even with his neck blown away and his head and chest covered in blood, was not her brother-in-law. This was an older man, heavier set. And Marta was even thinking she knew who he was, that she’d spoken with him the day Mark LeDrew came to the school.
“Where is he?” Bonnie asked. “Where’s Richard?”
It was a good question. He certainly wasn’t among the people who had gathered here.
“Richard!” Bonnie cried out. “Richard!”
She worked her way back through the crowd and started running for the school, no doubt hoping she’d find her husband there, Marta thought. God, what a clusterfuck.
She turned to the woman wearing a Milford police uniform. “What happened here?”
The cop said, “People heard a shot about twenty-five minutes ago.”
“One shot?”
The cop nodded. “A meeting had just ended and some of the people were coming out to their cars. This lady”—and she pointed to one woman standing over by a van—“saw something.”
Marta broke away and approached the woman, who was standing with her back to the van, wringing a tissue in her hand, her fingers shaking.
“Ma’am?” Marta said. “I’m Detective Harper. What’s your name?”
“Violet. Violet Kanin.”
“What did you see, Mrs. Kanin?”
“I was... I was coming out the main door over there, and I... this man came into the meeting at the end, and Mr. Boyle seemed very upset by it.”
“What man was this?”
“The one who shot Mr. Willow.”
“Herb Willow. A teacher.”
The woman nodded. “He was in the meeting tonight.”
“Meeting?”
“About the book.”
“Book? What book?”
“The Road. It’s by Cormac Mc—”
“Let’s go back. This man who came into the meeting late. Mr. Boyle wasn’t happy to see him?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. Boyle say his name?”
“No, I don’t think so. He didn’t say anything. He looked stunned.”
“Describe the man.”
“He was... he was in his twenties or thirties. He was a white man, a little heavy. Kind of a round face. He had on a sweatshirt, I think, with some writing on it or a picture.”
“Do you remember what that was?”
“There were Bs.”