"Oh, um, he and his friend went out somewhere." Jennifer's voice was much nicer now, she didn't want to give the cop the idea that she didn't like Justin - even if she didn't! "They came home earlier and I told 'em about the break-in, and they left again. I think they were just, you know, trying to avoid having to do any
work
." She smiled as if to say 'you know how boys are.'
Ken did, he had two boys of his own. He asked, "Did your husband have any other children? You mentioned an ex-wife…"
"Yeah, um, two other kids," Jennifer replied, looking like she'd had trouble doing the math. "Clarke is twenty-one, he's away at college. Gracie is sixteen, she lives with her mother, Clarissa, you know, his first wife. And, um, he's got a sister, too."
Ken said, "You'll want to give them the bad news. And I need to check into the robbery, there might be a connection." He thought for a minute and then said, "I'd really like to talk to the family tonight. Could you possibly ask them to come over this evening, say in an hour or so?"
Jennifer looked like the task was beyond her capabilities, but Cindy immediately said, "Of course, Lieutenant." She looked at the clock and back to the policeman. "How about 6:30? They'll all be here."
"That'll be fine, Ms. Stone," Ken said and got up to leave. "Mrs. Greene, I am truly sorry for your loss." Even though he meant it, it sounded stilted to his ears.
Jennifer muttered her thanks but made no effort to stand. Cindy was the one who escorted him to the door.
At 6:30 PM the Greene home once again hosted the people who had been there at Saturday's party. Except for Clarke (Clarissa had called him with the news, but urged him to stay at school for the time being) and of course, Charles. Even Justin and Zack had showed back up. This time the guests were somber and nervous, no one quite knew what to say.
Clarissa had stopped on her way over to pick up a selection of sandwiches, and she and Gracie were arranging them on the dining room table when Jeanine walked in.
Jeanine snagged a sandwich, stuffed half of it in her mouth, and tried to talk and chew at the same time. "Jeez, I'm starved. Payday's not 'til Thursday, I didn't get any lunch. Can't believe the frickin' cops want us here at dinner time."
With just the slightest trace of sarcasm Clarissa said, "That's exactly why I brought the sandwiches. Poor Jennifer isn't thinking about food, but I thought this way we could eat if we felt like it. Be a dear, Jeanine, and find the big coffee maker, I'm afraid this will be a long evening."
Susan Holloway poked her head through the door as Jeanine left the room. "Hey, Clarissa. How are you holding up? Have you seen Jennifer? I wanted to give her my condolences."
Clarissa paused in her artful arrangement of sandwiches. "I'm fine, Susan," she said. "Though I'm sure we're all pretty upset tonight. I think the widow is still upstairs, probably trying to figure out how to accessorize her little black dress without any jewelry. I'm sorry, that was tactless of me!"
Susan grinned to show she agreed, regardless of the issue of tact.
Jeanine pushed past Susan and headed for the sandwiches again. "Coffee pot's on the counter," she informed them. "Is that ham or chicken?"
Susan and Clarissa looked at each other and shook their heads at Jeanine's laziness, while Jeanine picked up two sandwiches and took a bite of each.
"I'll go make the coffee," Susan volunteered. "Why don't you come help me, Gracie?"
"Bring me some ice when you're done," demanded Jeanine. "I need a drink!"
In the kitchen Susan put her arm around Gracie's shoulders. "How you doin', kiddo?" she asked as she gave Gracie a quick hug. "Are you OK?"
Gracie threw her arms around Susan's waist and hugged her fiercely for a moment, then stepped back in embarrassment. "I don't know, Susan," she said forlornly. "I still can't believe it's
true
. It would be bad enough if he'd had a heart attack or something, but
murder
? I know Dad wasn't very sensitive of other people's feelings, but…"
"But he was your father, and you loved him," Susan said quietly. "Warts and all, as the saying goes. And he loved you, too; even if he wasn't very good at showing it. You just remember that, no matter what happens. You've seen enough movies to know that we're going to hear a lot of horrible accusations, but that doesn't mean they're all true. The police will get to the bottom of this and find the person who killed him."
"I know they will," Gracie said listlessly.
"Justice will be done," intoned Susan. "But your father's still gone, and you'll miss him forever. You need to grieve, Honey, and don't worry about what happened. If you need to talk, just give me a call."
"Thanks, Susan," Gracie said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go outside for a little bit and be by myself."
"Sure, you go ahead. I'll get the coffee made and get your aunt a drink, maybe that'll quieten her down a bit."
Gracie slipped out the front door and sat down on the porch steps. She felt like she was ten years old again, and didn't understand what all the grown-ups were talking about. They all said nice things about her dad, even when she knew he hadn't treated them very well much of the time. She remembered their conversation about the car, and felt terrible about asking for the Lexus. Then she remembered how irritated she'd been that he didn't take her concern for the environment seriously and felt mad all over again.
She shook her head, trying to banish her confusion. She got up and began walking around the front yard, trying to enjoy the peace and quiet and
not
think. The lush landscape provided a restful background and for once she enjoyed its beauty instead of bemoaning the fertilizer and pesticides. After all, her father might have wanted the yard to look good as a reflection of his good taste, but it meant he
did
enjoy beauty too.
Gracie strolled around the driveway and began amusing herself by thinking how all the cars reflected their owners. She supposed Jennifer's flashy new Mercedes was in the garage, but there was Cindy's old Chevy; it was faded and a bit battered, but reliable. Mom's Escalade
still
seemed wrong to her (classy but too extravagant), but Clay's red truck fit him to a 'T' - comfortable and hard-working, but still looking shiny and pretty.
She walked by Bill's Taurus. It was at least ten years old, the dark blue paint faded, but scrupulously clean inside and out and somehow proud of itself for continuing to perform its duties. Bill's bike was clamped to the roof rack, and she reached up to remove a small evergreen branch that had been stuck in the tag bracket. Bill must've missed it when he'd loaded the bike.
Next was Aunt Jeanine's piece of shit. She smiled to think how her mother would glare at her for using that crude phrase - and then laughingly admit that it was the perfect description. The Toyota was only a few years old, but looked like it was ready for the scrap heap; the silver paint was peeling in spots, there were several good-sized dents in the body, and the left-rear window was covered in plastic because it wouldn't roll up anymore. It was anyone's guess whether it would start tonight when Jeanine left.
An unfamiliar car pulled up to the curb, and a man got out and walked toward the house.
"Hello," Gracie said to him. "You must be Lieutenant Freeman. I'm Gracie Greene."
He shook her hand and told her, "Pleased to meet you, Miss Greene. I'm sorry about your father, I know it must be a shock."
"Thank you," Gracie said. "Well, everyone's here, I know you want to talk to us all, so please come in."
"You can stay out here if you like, Miss Greene," Ken said. "This kind of thing gets pretty emotional and ugly, and I'm sure you're upset enough as it is."
Suddenly Gracie was tired of feeling like a child, not being taken seriously. "But Lieutenant, what if
I'm
the murderer?" she asked impishly. "Or what if I've accidentally run across some little piece of information that will break the case?"
Ken laughed whole-heartedly and delightedly. He liked this young woman, she was smart, and he could understand that she didn't want to feel left out. "Then, Miss Greene, let's go into the lion's den - but don't say I didn't warn you!"
Gracie led the lieutenant into the den, which was still in quite a bit of disarray. People were milling about and talking in low voices. Justin and Zack were sitting at the bar, and immediately slunk out upon the arrival of the cop. Jennifer and Cindy were still not in evidence.
Clarissa took control of the situation. She introduced herself to Lieutenant Freeman and offered to retrieve the widow. She turned to the room in general and said, "May I have your attention please? This is Lieutenant Freeman, he's the detective investigating Charles' death. I'm sure he will tell us what he knows to date, and then will have a lot of questions for us all. I'm going to go get Jennifer, so this would be a good time to get a sandwich if you haven't already. Then we can get started.
She turned to Ken and said, "Lieutenant, I imagine you've been quite busy this afternoon, so please help yourself to a sandwich and coffee if you'd like."
Everybody began finding a place to sit, but Gracie decided it would be a good idea to get something to eat. She didn't want to miss any of the discussion; somehow it seemed to make her feel less powerless to think that she might really be able to help in the investigation, her earlier comment to Lieutenant Freeman having given her the idea.
As Gracie walked in Aunt Jeanine was just leaving the dining room, carrying a plate heaped with sandwiches. "Damned impertinent little snots," Jeanine said to no one in particular.
Justin and Zack were standing by the table making juvenile jokes about being arrested. Gracie began loading her plate and tried to ignore them, but it was only a matter of moments before the laws of sibling survival required her to harass them unmercifully.
"You guys must be shaking in your boots with a cop in the house," she said knowingly. "What if he wants to look around and finds your stash?"
"
What
stash?" Justin sneered. "I don't know what you're talking about!" He did his best to give her an innocent look.
"Oh come on, Justin," she replied with exasperation. "You may have Mom fooled, but I know you smoke pot. Everybody at school knows, it's obvious the way you act."
"Just because I'm not a goody two-shoes like
you
, it doesn't mean I smoke pot," Justin retorted.
Gracie said, "Whatever," and started to walk away. Then something occurred to her and she whirled around to face them once again.
"Ooh,
I
get it!" she said excitedly. "I bet the burglar found your joints in their little hidey-hole and took them, along with our dear step-mother's jewelry. So I guess you're safe for the time being."
Justin and Zack exchanged looks of surprise.
"And what hidey-hole would
that
be?" Justin asked. The façade of innocence was slipping, badly.
"The A/C vent of course," said Gracie smugly. "I used to live here, remember? It's just like a couple of pot-heads to use the oldest hiding place in the book! Probably took him all of two seconds to find it."
Gracie could almost see the thoughts work their torturous way through Justin's mind. She knew about the pot but apparently hadn't snitched for some reason. Maybe she'd been saving it for the right time - or maybe she just didn't care. Either way, it would do no good to continue to pretend.
"Well, for your information the burglar
didn't
find it!" Justin declared in a cocky voice. He stuck his tongue out at her, making a rude noise. "But now that you've kindly told me that
you
know about it, I guess I'll have to find another place to keep it."
"Like I care," Gracie retorted.
Ken walked into the dining room, surveyed the scene, and asked, "Am I interrupting? I haven't had dinner yet, your mother said it would be OK."
Justin and Zack slipped out of the room without a word. Gracie told Ken to help himself and followed the boys out, admonishing them to go to the den with everyone else instead of sneaking off to Justin's room. She sat on the couch next to Bill.
"Gracie, I'm so sorry this had to happen," Bill said. "I know you don't understand, and you're upset. If you need to talk, just let me know."
"Thanks, Bill, I appreciate that," she told him. "I stopped by the lab to see you after school today but you weren't there."
"Sure I was," he said. "Must've missed you. You know I get caught up in what I'm doing, did you keep knocking?"
"I know you, Bill!" she said. "I banged on the door several times, but you didn't open up, or even answer."
Bill took a bite of his sandwich as he thought about it. "Oh, I know! I splashed something on my new shirt..." He pinched the fabric between two fingers and pulled it away from his chest to make the visual point. "So I went to the men's room to wash it out. It wasn't anything dangerous, I just didn't want to stain it so soon. Then it would look like all my
other
shirts."
Gracie laughed and said, "We couldn't have
that
!"