I left for Charlotte, North Carolina, on a ten o’clock flight out of DC.  I was heading south to visit Craig family members. Maybe Kyle was there as well. It wouldn’t surprise me.
His father, William Craig, chose not to be home when I arrived at the estate where Kyle and his brothers had been raised. It was a gentleman’s farm with a rambling stone and wood house set on over forty acres in horse country. Someone on the staff told me it cost over fifteen dollars a yard just to paint all the white fences running around the pastures.
I spoke with Miriam Craig on a rear porch, which overlooked wildflower gardens and a rock-filled brook. She seemed very much in control of her emotions, which surprised me, but maybe shouldn’t have. Mrs Craig told me a great deal about her family.
‘Kyle’s father and I had no idea, no clue about his darker side, if indeed the terrible allegations are true,’ she said. ‘Kyle was always
distant, reserved, introspective I suppose you could say, but there was nothing to suggest that he might be this troubled. He did well in school, and in athletics. Kyle even plays the piano with a beautiful touch.’ /! never knew he played,’ I said, and yet Kyle had often commented on my playing. ‘Did you and his father tell him how well he was doing - in school, for example? In athletics? I suspect that boys need to hear that more than we know.’
Mrs Craig took offense.’He didn’t want to hear it. He’d say, “I know” and then walk away from us. Almost as if we had disappointed him by stating the obvious.’
‘His brothers did better than Kyle in school?’
‘In terms of grades, yes, but the boys were all high-honor students.  Most teachers saw Kyle as being deeper. I believe that he had the highest IQ, one-forty-nine if ............