The layered look Jack sent his older brother all but told him to shut up.
“Go on, Grace,” Annie urged between sips of Diet Coke—which happened to be Arthur’s preferred soda as well.
Grace sipped from her glass of water, her throat suddenly dry.
“The smell of ammonia not only brought Penny back to us—it’s happened twice now, I promise you it’s authentic—but it unearthed memories from that night, things we need answered, evidence we have to gather that might exonerate her.”
“‘I wasn’t alone and I didn’t do anything wrong,’ that’s what she said, right?” Jack asked.
“That’s right,” said Grace, confirming the little bit of information she’d conveyed to him over the phone.
“Well, there ya have it,” Ryan said, clapping his hands together. “Case closed. Guess I should start planning her welcome home party.”
“I think the police have it all wrong,” Grace continued, ignoring her older son. Underneath his bluster and braggadocio she knew Ryan was a kindhearted soul, a boy who called home regularly when he was away in college, never missed a holiday dinner, and always put family first, taking his dad’s motto—“better together”—deeply to heart. Whatever darkened his demeanor—grieving his father maybe, or seeing his dad’s legacy on the verge of collapse—was a secret he kept as locked as Penny did hers.
Grace continued, “We know from the Facebook messages that Penny had been in contact with her birth mother for some time before the murder. There must have been more to their reunion than we know.”
Jack said, “Did Rachel and Penny ever talk by phone?”
“No phone calls that we have a record of,” said Grace.
“Wow,” said Ryan, exaggerating the glee in his voice. “She’s sounding more innocent by the minute.”
“Just cut it out, Ryan, stop it right now,” Grace snapped at him. “I’ve had enough of your comments, your quips, your attitude. It’s extremely unhelpful and quite upsetting. Your hostility toward Penny has turned into disrespect of me, and it needs to end. Now. We need to work as a team here, and I need everyone’s support. That includes yours.”
Every word Grace spoke rang true, but in fact, she was also deeply concerned. She seemed to feel guilt at every turn. Ryan, who appeared contrite after her rebuke, was suffering, too.
Sarah came to the table, depositing a steaming basket of golden fries along with a round of beers frothing in chilled glass mugs.
“My question to all of you,” said Grace, getting back on track after the fries were savaged and beers gulped, “is what now?”
“Now, we need evidence,” Annie said. “Irrefutable, really, because anything less won’t do. Not with the trial so close.”
“I think that’s right,” Grace acknowledged, feeling a crackle of nerves near her heart snap to life. “But how do we get it?”
“Let’s watch the video,” suggested Jack. “I need to get a better sense of what went down.”
Annie agreed, while Ryan kept silent.
Grace had transferred a copy of Mitch’s recording to her laptop computer. The video replay was as unnerving and amazing as seeing it in person had been. Jack kept his eyes glued to the screen like a director watching dailies from a film shoot.
When they got to the part about the book, it was Ryan who chimed in. “That book again,” he said.
Grace paused the video, gratified to see him engaged. She had told Jack and Ryan about the book, but neither of them recalled ever seeing it.
Grace said, “Blue cover, boats in the water. You boys sure you don’t remember a book like that?” Jack shook his head, and Ryan did the same.
“It’s important to her for some reason,” Grace added. “But it’s not in her bedroom. I’ve turned it upside down looking. Strange she says it’s her favorite and we don’t know it.”
“Well, she does keep plenty of secrets,” Ryan said.
Grace ignored him and continued with the playback, getting to the part where Penny whispered that she wasn’t alone.
“You see that?” Annie piped up excitedly, right after Grace said “Vincent Rapino” on the recording. Grace stopped the playback. “She lit up when you said that man’s name.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” said Grace. “What if Vincent was there that night?” Her eyes danced across the faces staring back at her. “The police spoke to him, but they never considered him a suspect.”