Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
It’d all happened in six and a half minutes.
“Can you tell me about the other man? The one who you said shielded the children? Walk me through it if you can.”
Ms. Maples pointed to the spot outside the exposed staircase. “The teachers who were outside with the kids started calling them to the designated spot when the siren went off over the loudspeaker. They seemed calm, as they might have thought it was a drill. I considered pounding on the window but then thought better of it. It might have wasted time, them looking around for the source of the noise, me signaling, them trying to read my lips from above…” She waved her hand around.
Good, Mark thought. A clear thinker in a moment of extreme stress. And she’d likely been right not to distract them and waste precious seconds. Precious lives.
“Anyway, all the kids were gathering. I was praying that the gunman had left the property, that he’d given up, but then he emerged from right there”—she pointed to a spot just beyond the jungle gym—“and he began shooting.” Ms. Maples gulped back what was obviously a sob of grief.
“Where was the other man?” he asked.
“The blond man… No, it wasn’t blond so much as white. A silvery sort of white, hard to explain—”
“Wait, he had white hair? Was he old?” That surprised Mark. He hadn’t waited for the full description of either the gunman or anyone else involved before hopping on a plane. But when he’d heard about a second man who’d acted as a Good Samaritan of sorts but then disappeared, he hadn’t pictured him being old—because he’d taken a slew of gunfire to the midsection and the legs and then walked away.
But Ms. Maples shook her head. “No, quite young actually. I know, strange. And he didn’t have albinism, because his skin was tan.”
Mark’s brow furrowed. “Could his hair have been dyed?” The good thing about the description was a man like that wouldn’t be difficult to spot.
Ms. Maples shrugged. “I guess that could be it. Anyway, he was over there,” she said, pointing to a spot by the gate. “And when the gunman appeared, he yelled something at him. It sounded like Damon maybe. Or Aiden. I don’t know. The window was shut, and there was lots of shouting from both inside and out. I was watching but also trying to keep the kids away from the window. But his voice was deep, and he yelled as if he knew the gunman. The gunman seemed to know the white-haired man too, because he yelled something back that I didn’t catch. He was angry, and I don’t know…I got the impression the white-haired man was there to stop the gunman. And then…he just threw his arms out wide and…well, he jumped in front of the children, shielding them.” She closed her eyes, no doubt imagining it. Then she whispered, “It looked like he took a dozen hits before he fell.” She grimaced. “It was awful. But it was enough time for those kids to get to safety.”
“Is that when the gunman brought the weapon to his own head?”
“Yes, but first he pointed it at a woman standing by the fence.”
“A woman?” No one had mentioned a woman.
“Yes. I just remembered her actually.” She shook her head. “Sorry, in all the confusion, I didn’t remember her. Yes, there was a woman, and she wasn’t a teacher here, because she was outside the gate at first. She was…wearing jeans and a bulky sweater.” She furrowed her brow. “Red maybe? Or pink? Anyway, the gunman raised the gun and pointed it at her, and she seemed to brace, but then he brought it to his head instead and fired. I guess the shock of seeing that…what happened right before it sort of disappeared from my mind temporarily.”
“That’s not unusual, Ms. Maples.” It was why he liked to interview witnesses right after the event and then after some time. “Where did the woman go after the gunman shot himself?”
“I don’t know. The police cars arrived out front, and I ushered all the kids to the door. I knew from watching that the gunman was no longer a threat. Even so, we waited behind the door for help to arrive. When they did, we exited out the front door. I didn’t see the white-haired man or the woman in the sweater after that.”
“Can you tell me anything else about what the woman looked like?”
Ms. Maples rubbed her temple, obviously straining to recollect. After a moment, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I see her outline in my mind and that sweater, but…I just can’t remember anything else about her.”
“Okay. You’ve been a big help. Thank you, Ms. Maples. You’re meeting with the sketch artist now?”
“Yes.”
“Will you see if you can remember anything more specific about the woman too, and if so, have a sketch drawn up for the team of investigators?”