"Are you sure?" May asked. "The profiles aren't just private?"
"No, they are public enough to see that his status is listed as single. And I'm looking back through photos and posts, and I don't even see any mention of Hayley. It’s weird."
"No photos?" May asked.
"No photos of her, and I mean none whatsoever. I don't think that he was such a loving boyfriend at all. I'm wondering what part he played in her life, and what on earth was really going on between them."
May drove along the main road, feeling even more motivated to get face-to-face with Tim. There was definitely a disconnect between what Hayley's family thought, and what Tim himself thought. And May knew well enough that those disconnects could often point the way to lies, cover-ups, or even worse. It was the even worse that she was worried about now.
As she turned onto the main road for Forest Hill, Owen said, "Wait a minute, May. I think I've found his place of work here. That's searchable on social media, even if nothing about Hayley is."
"And where does he work?"
"He works at a local slaughterhouse."
"Is that so?" May thought again of those knife marks through the heart, so clean, accurate, and deep.
"Yes. He's a butcher, according to this site. And the slaughterhouse is a small one, servicing the local farms."
"Am I going the right way?" May asked.
Owen checked the map. "No. You need to take a right turn here, and then a left. Get onto the road going past town. The slaughterhouse is at the far end of town, heading out into the farmlands."
"Will do," May said.
Quickly, she changed lanes and headed on the road leading out of town.
She felt that things were adding up here. They had a suspect who had either not mentioned his relationship with Hayley, or else, more likely, erased all evidence. And also, it occurred to May, they were about to get face-to-face with someone who was highly proficient with knives and blades of all kinds.
That made May wonder something else. Could this man have been in trouble before?
"Owen, have you heard of any recent issues at the slaughterhouse?" she asked him. "Or any cases involving Tim? I'm wondering if he has a history at all."
"I can have a quick look." Owen pressed keys hurriedly. "There's nothing here, nothing in the recent history. But if we feel we need to, we could ask the local police. You know what it's like. Local police often get called out to solve issues that never make it as far as being an actual crime case."
"Let's do that if we have any doubt about him at all or need any other background," May decided.
She pushed away her own sense of unease and decided to focus on the facts that were in front of her. As she headed along the quiet country road, just a minute later, the low, compact slaughterhouse building came into view.
This really was a small, local butchery, May saw. It looked more like a farm outbuilding than a place where large scale processing of animals was done. At first glance, the place looked clean and neat. There was a livestock truck parked outside and a few cars in the parking lot.
Climbing out, she looked around, feeling the warm, summer heat of the day. She didn't know what to expect from the man she was about to meet, although she had the feeling that he wouldn't be too happy to see them.
But he was going to have to give them answers, May thought.
They walked across the paved driveway and headed for the building's main door, which was firmly closed.
May pushed it open, and they found themselves in a tiny lobby, with a change room on the side, and a box full of overalls, gloves, and boots on the other wall. This was clearly where the workers got dressed to prepare for their shift.
There was nobody in the room, but already May could pick up the scent of fresh blood, emanating from the larger room beyond.
It was time to go in and confront Tim Walters.
May pushed open the door, feeling nervous about what lay beyond. Being in a slaughterhouse was not the ideal place to interview a suspect who might possibly turn violent. She knew that she and Owen had to be ready for anything. May had experienced incidents in the past when a suspect's control suddenly cracked, and they stopped being who they pretended to and became who they really were.
She didn't want that to happen in this environment.
May felt relieved when she pushed open the next door, to see that the area looked clean and neat. This might be a small slaughterhouse, but it seemed to be well-managed. Even so, the scream of blades and cutting equipment in the background felt like a shrill reminder that this was a place that dealt in death.
As soon as they walked in, one of the white-overalled workers turned and rushed up to them.
"Good morning, good morning. I'm so sorry but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We don't allow visitors in here."
"We're police," May explained. "And we're here to interview one of your workers, to get information on a recent crime."
Now the worker looked worried. "Which person would that be?" he asked.
"Tim Walters."
"Tim? He's in the next room, the butchery room." The worker paused, assessing the situation. "Look, you can go through and speak to him if you're able to be quick. I don't want to interfere with a murder investigation and delay you, but also, he is on shift, and I don't want to ask him to clock out unless he has to."
"Understood," May said. "We'll be as quick as we can."
The door that the worker had indicated was to the left. She hurried up to it and pushed it open.
Inside, she saw Tim immediately, as he was the only person in the small annex next door. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair piled tightly underneath the plastic cap he was wearing. But his mouth looked tight and unfriendly.
He had a sharp-looking carving knife in his hand and was busy working on a rack of ribs on the steel table.
When the door opened, he turned to them.
There was blood on his apron, and May saw a distinctly suspicious look in his eye.
"Tim Walters?" she asked, stepping forward, making sure to appear calm and confident, and not reveal her unease.
"That's me," he said, in a tone that sounded casual, but May could pick up the tension that now lurked in his voice and his demeanor.
"We're here to question you about Hayley Meakin," May said.
Now, his eyes positively flashed with anger. "Talk to someone who knows her. I barely knew her," he snapped.
May took a step forward. She was not accepting a brush off, or lies, from this man.
"According to her family, you are her very caring boyfriend," she said.
May saw Tim's hand clench the knife harder.
"Her family is wrong," he said. "She and I were not dating each other." As he stared between her and Owen, May sensed his anger building.
“Why would her family lie?” May pressured him, knowing that it might push him over the edge, but feeling that right now, she needed a reaction from him, even if it caused his violent nature to be revealed. “I don’t think her family would lie to the police about something so important, after losing their daughter.”
"I don't want to talk to you and I have nothing to say," he snarled.
“We need answers, and we’re police. This is a murder case. We need you to be honest with us,” May reasoned, but she felt all she was doing was ramping up Tim’s anger.