Lana’s thoughts were interrupted by Beth’s voice. “The creek you found let out by the fishing dock?”
Jack nodded.
“There’s public access there. From the slough. And a trail. Do you think it’d be possible for someone to head up into that creek from the dock?”
Now Lana and Jack were both looking at Beth.
“Only I was thinking,” Beth said, “if that were true, then pretty much anyone could get up into that area.”
“Maybe,” Jack said. “They’d have to be pretty brave. Or stupid. I spend a lot of time on the slough, and I wouldn’t just head up some random creek that I didn’t have any idea where it was going.” She looked down and blushed. “Not anymore, I mean.”
“But someone could do it?”
“I don’t know. There was a fast channel here”—Jack ran her finger across the map—“that might be hard to get through going upstream. You’d have to hit the tides right. I’d have to go out there at another time of day to be sure.”
Jack looked up at the two older women.
“Not that I would, I mean. I know I can’t go out on the slough alone right now. But if you wanted. I could.”
There was a long silence.
“You’ve done quite a lot, Jack,” Lana said. She picked up the map. “May I keep this?”
*
While Jack did her homework, Lana helped Beth clean up. Or rather, Beth did the dishes and Lana hovered nearby, holding a rag like a fashion accessory.
Jack was on the couch wearing a giant pair of headphones, facing away from them.
“Beth,” Lana said.
Her daughter kept doing dishes.
Lana tried again. “Beth, I want to talk to you.”
“What?”
Lana glanced over at the couch. Tinny screeches of music leaked out from under Jack’s oversize headphones. There was no sign the girl could hear them. “I’ve been thinking. What if she got it wrong?”
Beth locked eyes with her mother. “What do you mean?”
“What if that man with the shovel did see Jack? What if he was the murderer? Or what if she saw something incriminating? Even if she doesn’t know what it is yet?”
“You think it was Paul out there, right?”
Lana nodded.
“Did he have a reason to kill Ricardo Cruz?”
“I don’t think so. But he’s hiding something about that Fruitful business. Maybe he and Ricardo were secret partners? I think I’d have caught on if Paul was lying about knowing Ricardo. But what if . . . what if I’m wrong?”
Beth stared dumbfounded at her mother. Lana stared back, her eyes wide. Her hands twisted the dishrag into a tight rope, first one direction, then the other.
“It’s not like I’m an expert at this,” Lana said softly.
Both women looked over to the couch. Jack was bobbing her head to the music.
“Maybe we could just keep an extra eye on her the next few days,” Beth said. “Make sure she gets to school and home okay. I already told her I wasn’t sure about her going back to work this weekend.”
“She won’t like that,” Lana said.
“I think she understood where I was coming from.” Beth shook her head. “We’re in this whether we want to be or not, aren’t we? Ricardo. Mr. Rhoads. It’s like we never had a choice.”
Was that true? Lana felt like she’d plunged in headfirst, without thinking about how it might affect her girls. But Beth wasn’t looking at her with anger or accusation. Beth didn’t even look scared. She looked resigned. Calm.
Lana tried to emulate her daughter. She cleared her throat. “I was thinking tomorrow I could make keftedes,” Lana said in a loud, confident voice. “Greek meatballs with yogurt sauce. I remember it was always your favorite.”
“When I was eight,” Beth said. “The last time you cooked dinner.”
“Well. I feel like a thank-you meal from me is overdue.”
“Martin Rhoads asked me to meet him for a drink tomorrow.” Beth started stacking bowls to take to the sink. “I was wondering if you’d want me to go.”
Lana looked at Beth, surprised. “Are you offering to go on a date for me?”
“Ma . . .”
Lana decided not to push it.
“That would be great,” Lana said. “And I’m having lunch with Diana tomorrow after my scans. I think she’s really starting to trust me. When you talk to Martin, make sure to ask him about the doctor. And the creek. And Paul.”