Page 32 of Professor Next Door

17. Galen

I stared at the two men sitting across from me, wondering when they were going to stop asking me the same questions.

“Look, why weren’t these questions asked two years ago when Kayla died? I didn’t kill my wife, I didn’t drive her to kill herself, and I wasn’t having an affair with a student at the time of her death. I don’t care what Sarah has said, she was out of my life by that time.”

“That’s as may be, Mr. Elliot, but it remains a fact that you did not seek help for your wife when she was clearly showing signs of postpartum depression. Why?”

“I was working all the time, I thought it was just baby blues. I didn’t think it was anything serious. She was a new mother, her hormones were all over the place. I didn’t know anything about postpartum depression or that she could even be that depressed without me knowing. Besides, your investigations at the time showed it was purely an accident. The insurance company even agreed. Why am I here now?”

I was starting to feel angry, betrayed, like a wrongly accused man ought to feel. I was the victim of a witch hunt. I’d done nothing to harm my wife, not on purpose anyway.

“Because your former lover says you did plan it all. That you purposefully tormented Kayla until she couldn’t take anymore and drove herself into a light pole. That you told her what you had planned.” The smallest of the pair stared at me with hate-filled eyes and I sat back, stunned at the rage.

“Then why isn’t she being questioned?” It was all I could think to ask.

“Who?” The taller one asked, looking at me like dog muck on the bottom of his shoe.

“Sarah. If she says I planned this with her then she’s an accessory isn’t she?” I looked between them, feeling a glimmer of hope.

“Ms. Rogers has made her statement and been released, Mr. Elliot.” I turned to Bill then, my eyes begging for him to do something.

“If those are all your questions gentlemen, and you have no grounds for charging my client, I’m now going to take him home.” I stood with Bill, following his example.

“Don’t leave town, Mr. Elliot. It’s not the same world it was ten years ago. We will find you if you run,” the taller one said. They’d told me their names but I’d forgotten them as soon as I heard them.

I left the interrogation room and walked out of the police headquarters with Bill. He was talking the whole way to my car, telling me what not to do, who not to talk to, and that I basically needed to go to work, and come home to shutter myself up inside until this was all done.

“There may be reporters soon enough, if Kayla’s parents leak this to the press. You may be in for a ride, Galen. I’m hoping to get everything dismissed, to have an answer, but right now I don’t have much. Go home, get some rest, and please, don’t do anything stupid.” Bill squeezed my shoulder before he walked away.

I stared after him, lost, confused, and incredibly broken. They weren’t just coming after my daughter, they were coming after me! I got in my car, checking the seat as usual, and started the car. I’d spent the last two years of my life living for Rikki. Since she’d been born my world had changed. I was her father, her protector. For a moment, I wished my dad had been around to protect me, to be there for me when I needed him most.

I breathed deep, the engine running but the car still in park. I needed to think. I’d seen that moment of doubt in Tara’s eyes. I knew exactly what she’d been thinking. Could I have done it, could I have killed Kayla?

I pulled out of the parking lot, heading out of town to a country lane I knew well. It didn’t lead to anything more than more country lanes, but that’s what I needed. I rolled the window down, cranked up the radio, and drove. I had no destination in mind, just a need for peace and not thinking. Tara had Rikki, they were at home, and I knew they were safe. I needed to get my head around everything before I could face them.

Maybe I had killed Kayla when I didn’t insist she seek out medical care? Who else is supposed to take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, if not your spouse? Isn’t that the one person you’re always supposed to rely on? The doubt played over and over in my mind. Maybe I had killed her?