“Not your brother,” Reed said, although he wasn’t sure what had become of Bobby.
“No,” she said, her tone turning wry. “But for a while there, I thought Bobby might self-destruct on his own. He drank too much, dropped out of school early. Then a few years ago, I guess he grew up. He got clean, got a GED, and started working. He moved up to this area when I started school because he said we’re all the family each other’s got left. We have dinner every Sunday.” She paused. “I called him when you contacted me and asked if he wanted to come to this meeting. He said no. He said you’re just here about Chloe anyway and that you don’t care what happened to Mom.”
Reed couldn’t deny this was partly true. He cared, of course, but Chloe was the pressing concern. “If we find out who killed Trevor, that would avenge your mother as well.”
“Bobby sounded jumpy on the phone, almost paranoid. He’s been watching the news, too. It brings back memories for all of us.” She looked at Reed. “You’re not going to try to talk to him, too, are you? I honestly don’t think he could handle it. I don’t want you pushing him off the rails again when there’s nothing he can do to help you anyways.”
“I won’t bother him.” The kid had been six at the time. What could he realistically contribute in any case? “What I’m trying to find out is if there is any connection between what happened to your mother and Chloe’s disappearance.”
Her lips thinned. “Bobby’s right, you know, about how everyone forgot Mom. You’re the only one who’s even asked about her in years. Once everyone decided Trevor was the target, it was like Mom didn’t matter anymore. Even the news stories mostly left her out. She was just ‘the housekeeper’ and they didn’t show her picture or talk to us about her. It was Ethan and Teresa doing the interviews and everyone always crying over Trevor. I’m sorry he’s dead. I am. But my mom died, too, you know? And she was a hero. She tried to stop that guy from getting to Trevor and he killed her for it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
She blinked back tears but failed to hold them, so Reed dug out his handkerchief. She gave a disbelieving, watery laugh as she took it. “You Southern guys are a different breed.” She wiped her eyes and nose and held the white square in her lap. “I just don’t think I can help you. I was only eight years old when it happened.”
“What can you tell me about that day?”
She took a shaky breath. “All I really know is that she wasn’t supposed to be there. It wasn’t her usual day. The Stones must have asked her to come for a particular reason, which they did sometimes like if they were having a party or something. We weren’t home, so I don’t know what they said when they called her. She had us stay at the neighbor’s house for the afternoon because she was cleaning out Beth’s room and she didn’t want us underfoot—at least that’s what she said. I think it’s more that she didn’t want us to see her crying. But after Beth’s funeral, money was tight, so she took all the work she could find. If the Stones said they needed her for the afternoon, she would’ve dropped everything to go over there.”
“And she never mentioned anyone hanging around the house? No trouble with any other people who might have been nearby, like landscapers or a repairman?” In reinvestigating the murders at the Stone house, he planned to start at zero, including the idea that Carol could have been the target.
She considered. “There was a gardener, not for the Stones but for the family across the street. He used to whistle at her and make rude comments. Guys like that are everywhere, though, and they don’t go after twelve-year-old boys.”
“You’re right. They usually don’t.”
“Daddy, Daddy, watch me!”
Reed shielded his eyes from the sun to watch Tula flip backward off the monkey bars. He took perverse pleasure in knowing Sarit would have had a heart attack if she’d been watching. “Bravo,” he called to Tula. “A perfect ten!”
“She’s brave,” Lisa said with a trace of wistfulness in her voice. “I was afraid to climb to the top of the jungle gym at that age. In fact, I’m not sure I ever did. Guess it’s too late now.” She faced him. “Do you really think the same person who killed Trevor and my mom could have Chloe?”
“I think we need to examine that possibility.”
“Back then, I missed my mom, but I mostly thought about what happened to him. Trevor. I used to have dreams that someone was coming to put a bag over my head and I’d wake up because I’d literally stopped breathing in my sleep out of fear. If someone could come into his huge house in the nice neighborhood, what was to stop them from coming to mine? Especially now that my mom was gone.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Now I think about her. How she didn’t even worry about herself, just tried to protect him. I wonder what she was thinking when he threw her off the staircase and onto that marble checkerboard floor.”
Reed could almost hear the crack of a skull hitting the floor and he tried not to flinch. He struggled to come up with some words of comfort, imagining what someone could have said to him to make him feel better when his mother’s murder had been unpunished. Nothing, he realized. There was nothing.
Lisa remained quiet for a few minutes as they watched the children play. “I hope you find Chloe,” she said, not looking at him. “I hope she’s safe. I hope wherever she is, there’s someone like my mom willing to fight for her.”
“I hope that, too.”
Lisa Frick left shortly thereafter, and Reed felt a twinge of guilt for having bothered her at all. She and her brother, Bobby, had been too young to have real insight into whatever precipitated the attacks at the Stone house all those years ago, and he’d contacted her mainly because she was geographically convenient. To dig deeper, he’d have to go to Philadelphia to talk to the remainder of the Stone family, Ethan and Justin. Fortunately, he’d hit on a potential opportunity to engineer such a trip.
He took out his phone and called his sister, Kimmy. She was the closest in age to him, the baby of the family before the Markhams had adopted Reed. Being bumped from such a favored status might have upset some kids, but Kimmy took her big-sister role so seriously that their parents would often find toddler Reed passed out in her bed at night, where he’d succumbed to her endless bedtime stories. She was his biggest rival and closest confidante and he dearly wanted to hear her voice right now.
“Hey, ugly brother,” she said when she picked up the line, her voice full of affection. “Have Tula and Ellery made fast friends yet?”
“Uh, I’m working on it.”
Kimmy gave a deep belly laugh. “Oh, honey, you say that like you’re the one who gets to decide.”
“Fine, then. Do you have any sage advice?” Kimmy had married her college sweetheart twenty years ago and they were still blissfully happy, as far as Reed knew. But she did spend her days as a family lawyer, which gave her a window into all kind of mucked-up relationships.
“Focus on whatever they have in common and go from there.”
“Food,” he answered without hesitation. Both Ellery and Tula loved to eat.