Jude pressed the doorbell and stood back waiting for someone to answer.
An elderly gentleman with a stooped back opened the door. “Detective Byrne?”
Jude nodded. “I am, and this is Detective O’Mara and Captain Fitzgibbon.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Greg Fairbanks.” His rheumy blue eyes turned to Everly. “You must be the tiny psychic.”
“Everly O’Mara, sir.” She offered her hand. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
Once again, Ronan was struck by Everly’s maturity. She must have seen Ronan introduce himself hundreds of times over the years and had simply adapted his style into her own.
“Please, come in.” Greg held the door while the others filed inside.
Ronan took a look around the living room and found himself in a comfortable, if formal, space. High-back chairs sat near a fireplace. A newspaper was laid out on one of the footstools, and a cup of coffee sat on a nearby end table.
“Have a seat. Would you like anything, little lady? Some crayons or Easter candy?” Greg asked Everly, sounding as if she were one of his grandkids.
“No, thank you.” She seemed to study the old man for a few moments before she took a seat on a blue sofa and rubbed her hands over the soft, velvety upholstery. “I love your house. I can feel all of your happy family memories.”
Greg smiled at her. “April and I raised our kids in this house. The grandkids love to play in the yard and garden with me.”
“My dad and I like to garden too. Last year, we had enough cucumbers to feed the whole neighborhood.”
“I do the same with tomatoes.” Greg took a seat at the other end of the couch while Ronan sat near Everly. Jude and Fitz took the chairs near the roaring fire. “April is at a hair appointment this morning, so we’ll have a little time to talk about the past. I don’t like to say too much about Marie in front of her.”
“Like I said on the phone, Everly was able to see and speak with the three children who died in the lunchroom back in 1968,” Ronan began. “They each said their spirit remained behind to help Miss Fairbanks clear her name.”
“Have you spoken with Marie?” Greg asked, his attention on Everly. Fear rippled through his eyes, making Ronan wonder what he was hiding.
“No. I did not see her at the school.” Everly’s eyes narrowed on the widower. Ronan assumed she picked up the change in Fairbanks’s demeanor too.
Obvious relief flooded Greg’s face. “Does that mean she’s resting in peace in heaven?”
Everly shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve tried reaching out to her, but so far, she hasn’t responded.”
Ronan studied Fairbanks as he spoke with Everly. He’d worn an indulgent smile with her when he’d invited them all into the house, but the second Everly mentioned speaking to the dead kids’ spirits, his entire attitude changed. He’d gone from calm and passive to on edge. “According to the police report, members of the school staff saw Marie leave the school in the afternoon the day before she was killed, and a janitor found her in her classroom the next morning. Can you tell us what you remember from that last day?”
Greg sighed. “I hadn’t thought much about those old days until you called on Friday. Marie was so young and beautiful. I wanted her to stay home and take care of the house and herself so we could start trying to have a baby, but she was insistent on teaching. She said it’s what she was born to do. I could see that was true by the way her eyes would glow when she talked about her students. Marie was usually home from school by half past three in the afternoon, which gave her time to get dinner started and to run a mop over the kitchen floor or to do some laundry.”
As he spoke, a frown marred Everly’s face. Ronan wondered if she was picking up on something from Fairbanks about Marie or if his little feminist was angry that he’d wanted his wife to cook and clean for him. “She loved her job and her students,” Ronan said, hoping to get the conversation off gender roles and back onto the subject at hand.
“That’s right,” Fairbanks agreed. “Until that awful day. My firehouse got the call out to the school. We’d been told that there were kids getting sick in the cafeteria.”
“Why were the firemen sent if there was no fire?” Everly asked.
“We were sent as a precaution in case there was a gas leak or some kind of issue with cleaning chemicals like bleach mixing with ammonia. A fire engine was always sent when an ambulance was dispatched to a scene. We were there to act as backup if anyone needed our help.”
Everly nodded but stayed quiet.
“Did you see the sick kids?” Fitzgibbon asked.
“I did. To be honest, it was pandemonium in the cafeteria. Some kids were screaming. Others were throwing up. Our captain went around to do a sort of triage with the kids. He quickly identified the three who were the worst off and made sure they were transported to the hospital. While that was going on, I was helping to calm the other kids who were vomiting. It turned out none of them were suffering the same symptoms as the other three.”
“Do you remember the symptoms?” Ronan looked up from his notes to ask.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day.” Greg’s eyes slipped shut. Ronan imagined the retired fireman could see the entire event unfolding in his mind. “The kids complained of burning throats, trouble breathing, and the worst stomachache of their lives. The little girl was having gastrointestinal issues as well. I found out later the same thing happened to the boys before they passed.”
“What’s astro intentional?” Everly asked, her attention on Ronan.
