"But now Randy may have a chance for a baseball scholarship," she said proudly. "A number of schools are interested. That would be a Godsend." She added, "Especially now."

"He's a great player. I saw him last spring. Your son has real tal­ent."

"He's at school now," she said hesitantly. "I practically made him go. He didn't want to go but I felt it was important for him to be around friends his own age. He has a game this afternoon, too." She added somewhat sheepishly, "He's had perfect attendance for all of high school. His father kids with him about it. Jeff is never sick and is a real stickler for that sort of thing. He and Randy have a bet going about it. Do you think I was wrong in sending him?"

Dean recalled his own father's death when he was 12 years old and how well his mother had brought him through the ordeal. It was not until years later after his mother too was gone that he real­ized the grief and confusion she must have felt. "I don't think there is a right or wrong in a situation like this," Dean replied. "Follow a mother's instincts and it'll come out just fine."

"You're a very kind man." She said it matter-of-factly. Her statement had a surprising effect on Dean. In spite of his discom­fort with having to conduct the interview, he found he was now reluctant to leave. He felt an urge to stay and offer some modicum of comfort to this woman he hardly knew. He felt strangely sorry for her, suddenly left alone by death, or perhaps duplicity. And he felt guilty as hell for his own foul mood and the insignificant rea­sons behind it.

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Dean finished the interview by obtaining the names of Jeffrey Byrne's doctor and insurance agent although, according to his wife, Byrne seldom visited a doctor and the only life insurance he car­ried was whatever his employer provided. Dean had already over­stayed his visit, so with promises to return if he had any more questions and to keep in telephone contact, he took his leave, shaking Cynthia Byrne's hand and waving to Janice Riley, who was again on the phone.

Dean was no stranger to interviews with people recently exposed to the violent side of life. Neither the years nor the num­ber of interviews made his dislike for the task any less, but expe­rience did help in knowing who to believe and who was telling sto­ries. While that intuition was far from foolproof, it was pretty damn good. And as Dean left Sherwood Forest behind, he had a strong feeling Cynthia Byrne wasn't telling stories.




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