In the Bleak Midwinter

“How about this? This morning, I found out that Katie’s secret lover was Wesley Fowler. His family are members of the congregation. And about as far from the McWhorter’s as you can get, socially, culturally, economically . . .”

“How the hell did you get that piece of information?”

She told him about her visit to Paul’s office at the Infirmary and the photograph. “It’s still in the pocket of my parka. Your parka,” she amended. “I visited the Fowlers to see if they knew anything about it, which they didn’t, unsurprisingly. Then I went to Albany.”

“Albany?”

“I wanted to see if Katie’s roommates might recognize Wesley’s picture.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know, Clare, the Albany PD already questioned at least two of the roommates.”

“But they didn’t have a picture, and I did. And I had his yearbook.” She twisted on the sofa to face him more fully. “Ow! You were right about the hot prickles. Anyway, at first I thought it was a bust, because none of the girls recognized Wes. But then, just by chance, they spotted a picture of Alyson Shattham. And guess what? She had been to see Katie. It was not a cheerful social visit. They had a fight.”

“When was this?” He swept the newspaper off one overstuffed armchair and perched on the edge.

“Beginning of the school year. September.”

“Huh. Little Alyson Shattam. Who said she hadn’t seen Katie since graduation.”

“Guess who Alyson’s boyfriend was all through last year.”

He smiled slowly. “Wesley Fowler.”

“Ten points.”

“Where is this kid? Still in town?”

“No, he’s a plebe at West Point. His father’s gone down to bring him back, though. They should be here tomorrow.”

He began twisting the sheets of newspaper into kindling. “Want a fire?”

“Please.”

He raked the old ashes to one side and laid splitwood from a big basket over the paper. He crossed two small logs over the kindling and struck one of her silly six-inch-long matches. “Alyson and Wes,” he said, tossing the match on the fire with five inches left unburnt. “A boy and a girl. Go to the same church. Are their families friends?”

“Oh yes,” she said. He sprawled back onto the armchair. “Oh, I feel warmer already. I may become addicted to fires.”

“Yeah, the Shattams were with the Fowlers this morning when I went over. I knew about Alyson and Wes before, though. Dr. Anne’s son gave me the inside scoop on all the high school gossip this past Monday. Sounded like they were the classic king and queen of the prom pair.”

“You sound a tad disenchanted, there.”

“Oh . . . that’s just an old high school outsider looking in, I suppose.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve met Alyson. She clearly believes that the world owes it to her to treat her like the princess she is. And from what I’ve heard of Wes Fowler, he’s the same type, a golden boy who’s never had anything bad happen to him.”

“So what do you think? Did Alyson know Wes was seeing Katie on the side? Maybe she wouldn’t put out and Katie would? So she let Katie keep Wesley-boy happy?”

“There’s no doubt that Katie did, as you oh-so-tastefully phrased it, ‘put out.’ But honestly, I can’t see Alyson Shattham standing by while her boyfriend gets . . . serviced. She strikes me more as the kind of girl to keep him on as tight a leash as possible.”

“Yeah, I know that type. Gets her kicks from making some poor slob jump through hoops for the promise of some—” Clare was looking at him with undisguised interest. He felt the tips of his ears redden. “Never mind. I agree, it’s more likely Alyson didn’t know that Katie was sleeping with Wes.”

“But then, at some point, it’s more than just sleeping with her. He gets her pregnant. Could he have come running to Alyson then?”

“What for?”

“Help. Advice. Forgiveness. Knowing a little bit about the psychology of teenage boys, I’m willing to bet a non-pregnant girlfriend suddenly looked a lot more appealing to him.”

“She looked genuinely surprised to me that morning at your church. Of course, I’ve been fooled before.” He watched Clare twist a strand of hair around her finger and chew her lip. “Okay. Let’s say he did tell her. What do the king and queen of the prom do when he’s gotten another girl knocked up?”

“They make the problem disappear?”

“Let’s say Wesley persuades Katie to give away the baby.”

“That could explain Alyson’s visit to Albany. Maybe she was the go-between, trying to talk Katie into it.”

“But a few days after leaving the baby at your back door, Katie gets back in touch with Wesley. She says she can’t stand it, she wants the baby back.”

“I don’t think Wes Fowler would have been too keen to have it come out that he got a girl from Depot Street pregnant and then abandoned the baby outside St. Alban’s on a freezing winter’s night. The West Point commandant and the ethics commission take a dim view of that sort of thing.”

Russ snorted.

“And there had already been a story in the paper, remember? The day after we found the baby? There wouldn’t have been much chance of him keeping it quiet if Katie tried to reclaim Cody.”