The Kind Worth Saving (Henry Kimball/Lily Kintner, #2)(72)

“Totally understandable,” the detective said. “So I take it from what you’re telling me that you don’t think there’s any connection between Henry Kimball’s involvement in the case of your husband and the attack on him in his office?”

Joan shook her head. “No. I mean, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Right.”

“Is there a connection?”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d be able to tell me.” The detective smiled, her lips moving fractionally.

Joan pretended to think for a moment. “You mean, besides the fact that Richard Seddon went to the same high school I went to?”

“Well, let’s start there. If that’s a coincidence, then it’s quite a coincidence. Did you know Richard Seddon?”

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t even recognize his name, but then I read the article that said he’d gone to Dartford-Middleham and I remembered him.”

“You grew up in Middleham?”

“I did.”

“And so did Richard Seddon?”

“I guess so, yes. I mean, he went to the high school, so—”

“I’m sorry,” the detective said, “I’m not making myself entirely clear. It’s a regional high school, right? It includes all the kids from Dartford, which is a fairly large town, and from Middleham, which is a lot smaller, right? And you and Richard were both from Middleham, so you would have gone through elementary and middle school together, as well, right?”

“We did. I do remember him, but honestly, I hadn’t thought of him for years. We didn’t know each other at all. I mean, it’s possible we’ve never actually spoken.”

“What do you remember about him?”

“Hardly anything. He was super quiet and kind of nerdy. I mean, I do remember that he was friends with James Pursall. I think they were gaming friends, or something like that.”

Detective James was nodding along. “Yes, they were friends.”

“Do you think that’s why he was targeting Mr. Kimball?”

The detective pushed her bottom lip, and said, “We don’t really know. That’s why I wanted to talk with you.”

“I wish I knew more.”

The detective nodded again but didn’t immediately say anything. Joan said, “So how is he? How’s Mr. Kimball?”

“He was your teacher, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m asking because you call him Mr. Kimball.”

“Oh, yes. Old habits, I guess.”

“I get it. And last I heard he’s out of immediate danger, but he’s still unresponsive. He had a subdural hemorrhage that they seem to have dealt with, and he has a lot of abrasions, but strangely enough, no broken bones. We’re all just waiting for him to open his eyes and tell us what happened.”

“You think he’ll be able to do that?”

“Well, hopefully, he can at least fill us in on his connection with Richard Seddon. Oh, that was what I was going to ask you: Your husband went to Dartford-Middleham too, right?”

“He did. I didn’t particularly know him, then, though. He was the class above me, and he grew up in Dartford.”

“Uh-huh. And did your husband know Richard Seddon?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, if he did, he never told me about it.”

“What about James Pursall?”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, we all know James Pursall, I guess you’d say, or know of him, because of what he did. But I’m pretty sure that Richie didn’t actually ever talk to him, or anything.”

“Richie was what you called your husband?”

“Richie was what my husband was called in high school. I guess sometimes I still think of him that way, even though he hated it, and wanted to be called Richard now.”

Joan heard the detective’s cell phone buzz and saw her light gray jacket pocket light up briefly, but she didn’t check it. “So I think I know the answer already, but I just want to make sure. Your husband never took a class with Henry Kimball, when he’d been a teacher at Dartford, right?”

“I doubt it. No, I’m sure he didn’t. He was only there a year, you know. Mr. Kimball. He came in as a student teacher for my honors English class and then he stayed on.”

“What kind of teacher was he?”

“Oh,” Joan said. “He was kind of like the cliché of an English teacher, if you know what I mean. He was really into it, especially poetry, and he wore ties sometimes, and you’d always see him smoking in the parking lot. It’s weird because he was probably only a few years older than me back then, but he seemed older, you know, because he was a teacher.”

“So what made you pick him when you were looking for someone to investigate your husband?”

“I wanted a detective to confirm what I knew about my husband, so I googled local ones. I saw Mr. Kimball’s name and it made me wonder if it was the same Henry Kimball who’d been my teacher. So I looked him up, and it seemed like it was him. He’d become a police officer, right, after leaving teaching?”

“He was my partner for a while, yes.”

“And there was some kind of controversy. He was suspended.”