"But her gun-"
Rick interrupted. "I know. I have a thousand theories and not one useful fact but I am willing to bet you a hundred dollars of my hard-earned pay that our murderer is sitting in the gymnasium right now. For whatever reason, this twentieth reunion has triggered him."
"Jeez, I just want to get out of here."
Rick frowned. "A normal response. I'm not sure I can let you all go. Not just yet, anyway."
As Market left the room, Rick thought about bringing in Dennis next. However, having Dennis in the gym would disquiet the others. Maybe he'd get more information from them if they stayed agitated. He decided to call Hank Bittner next.
Market walked back into the gym. Cynthia kept everyone on a short leash. No one could rush up to Market. He sat down at the end of the table, his grim visage further upsetting the others. Market was usually so cheerful.
Walter Trevelyn asked Cynthia, "Are we trapped in the gym or what?"
"Once Rick finishes his interviews, he'll make a decision." She kept checking hands.
"I think we should forget the reunion," Linda Osterhoudt, who'd looked so forward to this reunion, suggested. "How can we go on? At least, I can't go on."
BoomBoom put down her barbecue sandwich. "If we cancel our reunion then the murderer wins. He's spoiled everything."
"I'd rather have him win than me be dead," came the sharp retort from Market.
Others spoke in agreement.
Mike Alvarez dissented. "I came all the way from Los Angeles. If we stick together what can he do?"
"I have something to say about that." Mike's attractive wife spoke up. "We came all the way from L.A. and it would be perfect if we could live to go all the way back-soon."
He declined to reply.
"We could market this," Bonnie quipped. "You know, like those mystery party games? We'll create one, Murder at the Reunion. If you get a lemon, make lemonade."
"Baltier, how insensitive," BoomBoom chided.
Hank Bittner returned, telling Bob Shoaf to go out. Bob glared at Dennis, who glared right back. Then Bob turned on his heel and left to join Rick Shaw.
Chris sat, avoiding eye contact with Dennis. Market moved and sat on the other side of Chris, as if to reassure her.
Rick returned with Bob Shoaf, who didn't seem as upset as Market had been on his return to the group. Rick still wasn't ready to pull Dennis out of the room.
BoomBoom started to cry. "All my hard work . . ."
"Oh for Christ's sake." Harry smashed her plastic fork down so hard it broke. "This isn't about you."
"I know that but I wanted it to be so great. It's your hard work, too, and Susan's and Mike's and Dennis's. I bet he didn't get any pictures either."
"Yes, I did. Up until the murder."
"How long will it take you to develop them?" Cynthia inquired.
"If I take the film to my studio I can be back in an hour."
"You're not going to let him go?" Hank Bittner was incredulous.
"There's not enough evidence to book him," Cynthia answered.
"He left the scene of the crime!" Hank exploded.
"I didn't do it."
The room erupted again as Rick shouted for quiet. "We've got your names and addresses. We've got the hotels where you're staying. We'll get in touch with you if we need to. I have no desire to make this more uncomfortable than it has to be."
"Are you going to book Dennis?" Hank insisted.
"No, I'm not, but I'm going back with him to his studio," Rick stated.
Dennis bit his lip until it bled, realized what he had done and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
As Rick and Dennis left, Cynthia remained. BoomBoom stood up, then sat down abruptly as Susan pulled her down. They whispered for a moment.
Mrs. Murphy followed Dennis and Rick out to the squad car.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Dennis demanded.
"Look, Dennis"-Rick put his hand on the man's shoulder-"I know you're scared. I don't know why you're scared and I wish you'd tell me. Think a moment. You have to live in this county. Whatever it is that frightens you can't be as bad as ending up dead."
"I didn't do it." Dennis stubbornly stopped, planting his feet wide. "I did not rape Ron Brindell."
Rick paused a minute as this was an unexpected response. "I believe you. Why are you so frightened? That was twenty years ago. I believe it happened. I believe you. Why did you run away today? The only thing I can figure is you ran away from the others who were in on it. Or you think you're next."
He mumbled, "I don't know. It's crazy. People don't come back from the dead."
"No, they don't, but there's someone in that gym who loved Ron Brindell. A girlfriend who wants retribution for his suffering. Another man perhaps. He could have had a lover. None of you knew. The man's come back for his revenge after all these years. He could be married and have children. How would you know? We called Ron's cousin in Lawrence, Kansas, to see if she had any ideas. She said they were never close. She lost contact with him after high school. Right now, Dennis, you're my only hope."
Dennis hung his head as Mrs. Murphy scampered back to tell Pewter and Tucker. "I don't know anything."
The cat could hear the shouting from the gym and she wasn't halfway down the hall. She loped to the open double doors to behold all the humans on their feet, everyone shouting and screaming. BoomBoom was the only person seated and she was in tears.
Tucker ran over to greet Mrs. Murphy. Pewter, wide-eyed, remained on the table. The commotion mesmerized her. She wasn't even stealing ham and barbecue off plates.
The only people not fighting were Harry, Susan, Fair, Bitsy, and Chris. Even E.R. was yelling at people.
"I thought we were a good class." Susan mournfully observed the outbreak of bad manners and pent-up emotion.
"Maybe we should go down to Miranda's reunion," Harry said.
"And ruin it?" Fair bent over and brushed the front of his twill pants. "I say we all go home. No one in their right mind would stay for the dance tonight."
"Jesus, guys, what am I going to do with all the food that's been ordered? It's too late to cancel it. Someone's got to eat it."
"I never thought of that." Harry briskly walked back to the center of the melee. "Shut up!" No response. She stood on the table and yelled at the top of her lungs. "Shut up!"
One by one her classmates quieted, turning their faces to a woman they'd never had reason to doubt.
BoomBoom continued sobbing.
"Boom." Susan reached her, patting her on the back. "Wipe your eyes. Come on. We've got to make the best of it."
With all eyes on her, Harry took a deep breath, for she wasn't fond of public speaking. "We'll solve nothing by turning on one another. If anything, this is a time when we need one another's best efforts. As you know, the sheriff has released us. Before we scatter to the four corners of the globe, what are we to do with all the food Susan has ordered and you've paid for? Remember, we have the supper in the cafeteria tonight before the dance. We can't cancel it. We've paid for it. What do you want to do?"
"Let the class of 1950 have it," Hank said.
"They've organized their own dinner," Susan informed him.
"Can't we send it to the Salvation Army?" Deborah Kingsmill asked.
"I'll call them to find out." Susan left for her car. She'd left the cell phone inside it.
"We could eat our supper and go. It seems obscene to have a dance under these circumstances," Linda Osterhoudt said. "And it seems obscene to waste all that food if the Salvation Army won't take it."
Others murmured agreement.
"Shall we vote on it?" Harry asked.
"Wait until Susan comes back," Bonnie Baltier suggested.