Trust (7 page)

This time she chose to ignore them. There was nothing further she had to say and she sensed that anything she said wasn't likely to help her and would just give them more of an opportunity to make her look horrible on air. So, she kept her head down, refusing to give them any kind of a camera shot and hurriedly made her way to her Honda Civic, then sat there steaming, waiting for one of the vans to move since she was completely blocked in. While she was waiting, the cameramen and reporters swarmed around her car, knocking on the window to get her attention, trying to get her to look their way, but instead, she put her sunglasses on and looked straight ahead. As soon as the van moved out of the way, she pulled out.

There was only one van parked outside the school, so she was able to avoid them easily, hurried right inside and went to the cafeteria to get a coffee. She'd been so rattled and eager to get away from the media that she'd forgotten to stop for her usual Starbuck’s fix. Once she had her coffee, she headed to her office and found Amy waiting there for her. She handed Lauren copies of both the local and Boston papers. Lauren glanced at the covers and then immediately felt faint. She grabbed onto the side of the desk and then sat in her chair.

"Are you all right? You look as white as a ghost."

"I'm ok. I knew there'd be coverage today, but I didn't expect that." They both looked at the front covers where Lauren's picture was front and center, and her name in giant bold letters. The local paper wasn't as sensationalistic as the Boston one, which had more of a tabloid look to it. The headline made both of them cringe, "Forbidden love affair gone bad?" and below that in just slightly smaller letters, "Did this single teacher turn to murder to cover up her relationship with an underage student?"

"Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?" Lauren was dreading facing her first class. "I'll have to say something to the students, reassure them this is nothing but speculation and that there's no truth to it."

"Let's discuss that. If you could, please come by my office for a moment, Lauren." Emily Morehouse, school principal was standing in the doorway.

"I'll catch up with you later," Amy said as Lauren got up to go to the principal’s office.

Lauren had always admired Emily Morehouse. She was a warm, smart and funny woman who had been principal for over ten years. The teachers loved her and the students respected her. Emily walked back to her office and Lauren joined her a few minutes later.

“Please, have a seat," Emily said as she shut the door firmly behind them and then sat down at her desk, facing Lauren.

"We need to handle this carefully." She began. "As you can imagine, I've had a number of calls already from concerned parents. I've reminded them that you have not been charged with any kind of a crime—that you are just being questioned along with many others as the police seek to find whoever did this."

"Emily, I can assure you that there's nothing to this..."Emily put her hand up.

"I know. I've talked with Betty, and she filled me in on how the two of you had discussed Eric and that he was hesitant to meet with her, afraid that it would get back to his parents. I also know that his talking to you obviously was helping. His grades were showing marked improvement."

"He was having trouble focusing at home. I suggested he get out of the house more, go to the library or to a friend's to study."

“I think, instead of you speaking with each class, I will make an announcement during home room, letting the students know that you have our complete support and that they should disregard the rumors swirling in the media.  Let me know if you run into any problems.”

"Thank you. I will. I really appreciate your support, it means a lot to me."

"You're important to us, Lauren. I've always been a firm believer in dealing with facts, not speculation."

The rest of the day passed in a somewhat uncomfortable blur. Lauren sensed the confusion emanating from her students. Despite the principal's announcement, many were unsure and curious if there was anything to the rumors. She overheard bits and pieces of conversation as she passed through the halls.

"I heard the wedding's off, that her fiancé caught them together."

"I thought Eric was gay, who knew?"

"Miss Stanhope is as straight as an arrow, no way there's anything to this."

"Man, how did Eric do it? She's hot!"

When the last bell rang, signaling the end of school for the day, Lauren wrapped things up quickly and then stopped by Amy's office.

"I'm glad that's over." She said.

"You're all set to go already? I still have a few things to finish up."

"No problem, I'll catch up with you on Monday. David's taking me away for the weekend. I am really looking forward to it.” She told Amy about the Bed and Breakfast in Maine.

"That sounds heavenly. Mark and I went up there about six months ago. You're going to love it. Don't even think about the madness down here. It'll do you good."

"That's what I'm counting on."

––––––––

Chapter Sixteen

D
avid was having the longest golf game of his life. Randy had called earlier in the week and suggested they get together Friday afternoon for a round of golf at the club. He tried to demur, saying he was going away for the weekend and had too much to get done before he left. But then Randy threw out his trump card. "Billy and Chuck are in and they said they're looking forward to it and to tell you they'll be expecting you to be there.”

So for over two hours now they'd been listening to the Randy show—non-stop chatter about his many successes and plans for the future. Billy and Chuck seemed genuinely interested, impressed even, but David kept checking his watch. He was eager to finish up and get on the road with Lauren. He was glad that no one had mentioned anything about her or the Eric Armstrong murder. It was the last thing he felt like talking about, especially with Randy and his partners.

"So, David, where did you say you and Lauren are off to this weekend?" Billy asked as they approached the 18
^th
hole.

"Kennebunkport, Maine. There's a bed and breakfast Lauren has been dying to go to."

"How is Lauren doing? Holding up okay?" Chuck asked.

"She's good, looking forward to a weekend away though."

"How long have you two been dating?" Randy had a curious look on his face.

"Just about two years now."

"That's not a very long time though, is it? I mean to really know everything about a person?"

"What are you getting at?" David felt his jaw clench.

"Nothing, not a thing at all. Just thinking out loud. I've been married for ten years now and still keep learning things about my wife; things I never would have guessed years ago. She went through a shoplifting phase when she was in high school. All her friends were doing it, but she was the one who got caught. Ended up doing community service or something so it wouldn't go on her record. I'm just saying—there might be things you don't know about her."

"Lauren's a great girl," Billy interjected as he saw the anger flash in David's eyes and shot him a look warning him to stay calm.

"I think I know everything I need to know about Lauren," David said quietly.

"Hey, I'm sure you do. You have a good weekend now." Randy turned to the other two men, "All right then. Great game. Who's ready for a cocktail? David...one for the road?"

"I'd love to," he lied. "But I have to get going since Lauren wants to try and get up north before dark."

––––––––

Chapter Seventeen

T
he ride up to Kennebunkport was a relaxing one. David drove and they left early enough that they managed to miss the rush hour crush. By an unspoken agreement, they didn't talk about the Eric Armstrong case once. They listened to all their favorite CD's—Pearl Jam, the Stones, Billy Joel and Elton John, and Lauren's newest discovery The Fray. It was just getting dark as they entered Kennebunkport and found their bed and breakfast, The Road's End.

Amy had raved about this place when she and Mark came here back in the spring for their anniversary. As they stepped inside, and walked toward the front desk, Lauren felt a wave of peace wash over her. The atmosphere was wonderful and calming. There were thick scented candles placed around the lobby area and she picked up a hint of vanilla or a freshly baked cake. The inn was lovely and beautifully decorated with delicate patterned wallpaper in soothing colors of soft blue and sea foam green, accented with cream painted wood. An older woman with a preppy salt-and-pepper bob and fashionable reading glasses, sat at the front desk and smiled as they walked in.

"Welcome to The Road's End. I'm Ethel Murphy. May I help you?" She asked in a distinctive Maine twang.

"We have a reservation, under David Landers."

"Of course. Yes, here we are. Oh, and you're in luck. We had a cancellation for this weekend for our honeymoon suite, so we put you in there. I thought it was appropriate as Mr. Landers mentioned that you're due to be married in a few weeks."

"That's wonderful," Lauren exclaimed. And it was. Ethel showed them to the suite which was on the second floor, overlooking downtown and the harbor. There was a gas fireplace, which cast a warm rosy glow over the already cozy room. The bed was a queen-sized sleigh bed of dark wood, topped with a pile of plump pillows and fluffy down comforter with a matching coverlet all in soft elegant shades of cream. There was a sitting room with a small sofa and table, and the bathroom was amazing. It was huge, with a Jacuzzi and a large glass door shower.

"We serve a hot breakfast from 7:00-10:00 a.m. Come down anytime during those hours. And if you need anything, at any time, call the front desk. Someone is always there. Oh, and there's a mini-refrigerator over there." Ethel pointed to a small cubby just below the main bay window and padded window seat. "There's a complementary bottle of champagne to welcome you. Enjoy your stay!"

She left the room, closing the door gently behind her. David and Lauren looked at each other and smiled. "This was such a good idea," Lauren said as she took the bottle of champagne out of the mini-fridge, opened it and poured two glasses.

David lifted his glass and tapped it against Lauren's in a toast, "To a great weekend, and to our future together."

"And to everything going smoothly at the wedding. I can't believe it's just a few weeks away." It seemed so close and yet so far.

The weekend flew by. They dined on baked stuffed lobster in the evening and enjoyed blueberry pancakes and plump sugar-topped muffins bursting with fresh blueberries at the morning breakfasts, served in the formal dining room downstairs.

Everything was perfect until the ride home. Lauren was driving this time and David's mind kept drifting back to what the ever-annoying Randy had said. He totally trusted Lauren, but was curious to know more about her. She never had shared much about her past before moving back to Waverly; only that her parents had died in a car crash years ago and that she'd been raised by her Aunt who lived in Connecticut. She was an only child as well, so didn't have much in the way of family. Unlike David, who'd grown up in a large extended family with lots of cousins, aunts and uncles. The holidays were like crazy sprawling reunions, complete with a kids’ table and adults’ table with people running around and food everywhere. His family was Italian, and every gathering revolved around food—an abundance of it.

"So, do you have any deep dark secrets you haven't told me?" he said in a teasing tone.

"What?" Lauren had been lost in one of her favorite Pearl Jam songs, the slow rhythmic Wish List. David's question jolted her out of her happy music trance.

"When we were golfing with Randy the other day, he was just saying how he's been married over ten years and still keeps discovering things he never knew about his wife. Like that she went through a shoplifting phase when she was a teen."

"I never shoplifted," Lauren said as she shifted lanes to pass the car in front of them.

"No, I never pictured you as a shoplifter. So, you have no skeletons in your closet? No ugly surprises you might spring on me one day?" he asked with a smile.

Lauren glanced over at him and opened her mouth as if she were about to speak and then just shook her head and turned her attention back to the road.

"What? Is there something? What were you about to say?"

"Well, I never really
did
anything, but I did once
confess
to doing something. Three of us did, but it was thrown out by the courts."

"What do you mean? Why would you confess to something you didn't do? What did you confess to?"

"Murder."

––––––––

Chapter Eighteen

"Y
ou're kidding, right?"  David couldn't imagine that she was serious.

"No, I'm not kidding, unfortunately."

"What happened? And why did you never mention this before?

Lauren bit her lip for a moment. “Two reasons. First, it's something I don't talk about, having been a long time ago and I prefer not to go back there. Second, I was innocent and the confession thrown out, so there were never any charges. So, it's like it never happened."

David thought about that for a bit. "But it did. And you still haven't told me exactly what happened, why you would confess to something you didn't do?

“To be honest, it's all a little hazy. It was the same way back then too—it was always a blur. I was sixteen, and a bunch of us were playing miniature golf at that old course by the beach—you know the one off Silver road?" He nodded and she continued. "Well, it was late on a cloudy Saturday afternoon and the miniature golf place was getting ready to close up early as business was slow and the sky was dark, threatening rain. Someone suggested moving the party up the road to the beach where someone’s brother had a cottage and would buy beer for us."

"You were drinking beer at sixteen?” David was surprised.

Lauren chuckled nervously. “Most of them started a year or two earlier, actually. We'd drink on the beach. It was stupid, but we were bored and curious."