“Mrs. Strout is in a wheelchair and no one else looks pregnant,” I said.
“I’ll search for more photos closer to the time of Luke’s birth,” Lurleen said, “and I’ll see if I can find out where everyone was when he was born.”
“Thanks, Lurleen. I have to go. The kids will be starving for dinner.”
“This might change the questions Kevin will want you to ask Jonathan tomorrow, assuming the interview is still on,” Danny said. “I’ll talk to him about this. It seems likely Jonathan would know if Nicole was Luke’s birth mother; that would be a hard secret to keep from others in the family.”
“And that would mean Stephanie would also know,” I said.
“My guess would be that everyone in that family knows,” Danny said. “And as for you, Lurleen—,”
She stopped him by waving one well-manicured hand in the air. “I will continue to do what I do best, a little research on the internet.” She paused. “I can see that gleam in your eye, Danny. You think that will keep me out of mischief!”
“The gleam is about all the information you will gather that we can dump in Kevin’s lap without putting you in danger.”
I drove home, checked on the kids and started dinner. I asked Mason to call Noah’s mom and Hannah’s grandfather to see if both kids could stay for dinner.
He left and came back five minutes later.
“They can. I said I’d drop them back before nine. That work for you?”
“Perfectly. How did I manage without you?”
“No idea,” Mason said.
Dinner was homemade pizza. I’d finally found a good pizza dough recipe and kept some of it ready to go in the freezer. The kids put on the toppings they liked, and I popped two large pizzas into the oven. I left Hannah and Lucie in charge of the salad.
Jason and Noah set the table and then headed outside for a little soccer before it got too dark. Mason and I sat on the sofa in the living room.
“I can’t tell you much,” I whispered to him. “Too many ears, but Danny will call you later to fill you in about what we’ve found out.”
“Does it change plans for tomorrow?” Mason asked. “I wouldn’t mind if I could keep you out of this.”
“I don’t think it does,” I said. “I have to say I’m very curious about what it is that Jonathan might feel he can tell me and no one else.”
“Is Danny going to call Kevin directly?”
“Yes,” I said.
“That’s good,” Mason said. “He and Kevin are close friends. Actually, everyone in the precinct is Danny’s friend. None of them wanted him to leave the force including me.”
“Why did he leave?”
“Danny’s a little like Lurleen, and that’s probably what makes them a good fit. He doesn’t like rules much.”
I laughed at that. “It’s good they have both of us to rein them in,” I said.
“You think we rein them in?”
I laughed louder at that. Lucie stuck her head in the living room. “What’s funny? When I hear you two laughing and then whispering, I know you’re saying stuff you don’t want us to hear.”
“Right,” I said. “We were laughing at the idea we could tell Lurleen or Danny what to do.”
Lucie smiled. “I’m going to be just like Lurleen when I grow up,” she said.
“I know you are,” I said, “but you’re not there yet. You are still our twelve-year old daughter, and we’ll keep an eye on you for now.”
“The pizza’s almost ready,” Lucie said.
I followed her into the kitchen. A friend had told me that the secret to perfect pizza was to take it out a little early and let it finish cooking outside the oven. It worked like a charm. What also worked like a charm was my pizza cutter. I did my best to identify different regions of each pizza and sliced accordingly. I left the pieces on a platter on the kitchen island, so everyone could pick out the pieces they wanted. Mason and I waited, happy to eat whatever was left.
We settled around the dining room table and passed the salad. “Beautiful, as always,” I told the girls. Hannah was still new to cooking and she loved the praise.
“Lucie may become a great detective when she grows up,” Hannah said, “but I’m going to be a chef, maybe with my own restaurant or at least with my own giant kitchen.”
“Mason and I will be happy to come to your restaurant or your house at least once a week.”
The boys were too busy eating pizza to join in the conversation.
After dinner, Mason said he’d take Noah and Hannah home, so we could get them home before nine.
“But it’s not a school night,” Hannah said. “I could stay over. My grandfather wouldn’t mind.”
“Not tonight, Hannah,” I said. “That doesn’t work for us.”
In the past, Hannah would sulk when I didn’t let her do what she wanted to do, but she was beginning to understand the rules in our house. No meant no, and she rarely challenged me anymore.
“We’ll have you over for Halloween,” I said, “and maybe we can make an exception that night and have you spend the night. I’ll talk to your granddad and see if he can pick you up in the morning for school.”
“Oh, he can,” Hannah said.
She was right about that. She still had her grandfather wrapped around her little finger.
We got the kids piled in the car, and Mason gave me a kiss before he headed out.
I would have close to an hour to myself, so I sat with my laptop, wondering what else I might find out about Nicole.
I couldn’t find anything. I wasn’t the internet researcher that Lurleen was. I finally called her for help.
“Have you found any photos closer to the time Luke was born?” I asked. “It seems to me if we could figure out who Luke’s biological mother was, we might find the link that’s eluding us.”
“The link, as in the murderer?” Lurleen asked.
“I’m not sure about that. Maybe there’s information about one of the women in the family disappearing from the Atlanta scene for several months before Luke was born.”
“I’m on it,” Lurleen said. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call as the kids came bouncing through the door.
Lucie studied me. “Why do you look so strange, Mama,” she asked, “like you have a secret?”
“Did you make us dessert?” Jason asked.
“Not tonight. You need to get to bed.”
“But it’s Saturday night,” Lucie protested, and Jason chimed in. Normally, they didn’t land on the same side of things, but if it had to do with extending a bedtime they ganged up.
“Sorry,” I said. “You might not have a busy day tomorrow, but I do. You can read in bed for an hour, no questions asked.
In truth, they could read in bed for as long as they liked. They couldn’t use their cell phones and they had no TV in their rooms—that much I could control. But reading? Have at it.
Mason and I now had our own routine for getting the kids to bed. We went to each of them separately. If I was with Lucie, he was with Jason. Then we switched places. By nine-thirty, it was lights out, and Mason and I headed upstairs.
“Kevin says you can interview Jonathan tomorrow around eleven. He’ll send over questions in the morning, and he still wants you to wear a wire.”
“Ugh,” I said. “I’ve never worn a wire. I hate the duplicity of it. Wouldn’t it be better if I asked Jonathan if I could record what he says?”
“Maybe, but Kevin seems to have his mind made up about that. I’ll revisit it with him in the morning.”
“Do I have to dress in some disguise?” I asked.
“I’d feel better if you did,” Mason said. “I’m not sure we can keep people from knowing you were visiting Jonathan, but I’d like to try.”
“More news from me,” I said. “I found pictures of Nicole and Mrs. Strout a few months before Luke was born. Nicole didn’t look pregnant, but maybe she wasn’t showing yet, and Mrs. Strout was in a wheelchair. I asked Lurleen to see if she could find more photos closer to the time of Luke’s birth and maybe see if anyone disappeared for months before Luke was born. I’ll check with her to see if she’s found anything.”
“Research on the internet sounds safe enough,” Mason said, “and if anyone can find answers there it will be Lurleen.”
I closed our bedroom door. Sometimes sound traveled downstairs. Then I called Lurleen and put her on speaker phone.
“Ooh, la la,” Lurleen said. “Good timing, I was just about to call you. You won’t believe what I’ve found out. An article in the AJC wrote about Mrs. Strout going to Europe for a long rest cure, visiting various spas and clinics. She was gone for months before Luke was born, and guess who went with her as her personal nurse?”
“Nicole?” I asked.
“Yes,” Lurleen said. “However, we still can’t be certain which one of them was pregnant.”
“You’re right,” I said, “but if it was Mrs. Strout I can’t think of any respected obstetrician in Atlanta who would have let her travel. She was forty-one at the time and sick. She would have been closely monitored and probably put on bed rest. Do we know if she returned with a baby?”
“That will take more research,” Lurleen said. “If Luke was Nicole’s baby then some pieces of the puzzle might fit together. If she thought Mr. Strout Senior, or his hospital, was responsible for Luke’s death, then she might have wanted him to die on the anniversary of her son’s death.”
“However it wouldn’t explain her own murder or the fact that Jonathan was run off the road on the same date six years later.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she said.
“Has Danny passed this information on to Kevin?” Mason asked.
“Not yet,” Lurleen. “He wanted to wait until I talked to you two.”
“I’ll handle it then,” Mason said.
We hung up.
Mason turned to me. “This may change things. Jonathan and Stephanie would know about this history and Stephanie never said a word to you about it. Neither one of them suggested Luke was not Stephanie’s younger brother. That means we can’t trust either one of them.”
“But wouldn’t an interview with Jonathan be helpful?” I asked. “He can’t harm me in the hospital, and maybe that’s what he wants to talk to me about. Maybe he knows who Luke’s parents really were. Stephanie said he felt really guilty about something.” I was silent for a moment. “What if Jonathan was Luke’s father and Nicole was his mother? Stephanie said he loved Luke like a son, and she’s told us how Nicole liked to stir up trouble and break up families.”
“All possible,” Mason said, “and in a way that leads to a scenario that makes more sense. However, it could make Stephanie a prime suspect, assuming she learned the truth recently.”
“You can’t think Stephanie ran her husband off the road. She seemed genuinely distraught about what happened to him.”
“You seem to forget he moved out of the house,” Mason said. “It could be they were headed for a divorce.”
“Why would she ask me to talk to Jonathan if she already knew what he might tell me? She said he’d done something he was deeply ashamed of as if she really didn’t know what that was. Shouldn’t I try to find out about that? Maybe, just maybe, he’ll talk to me.”
“I need to call Kevin. I’ll do that downstairs if you don’t mind. No speaker phone.”
“Fine as long as you tell me everything he says.”
“I’ll tell you what I can, Ditie.”
Ten minutes later, Mason returned. “The interview is still on. It’s now set for 11:30, so he can get everyone in place. He still wants you to wear a wire, and he’s agreed to the idea you’ll come in disguise for your protection, so whatever Lurleen has dreamed up might work.”
“Will he send over a list of questions?”
“He did and I printed them out.”
I read them over. They were pretty much the questions I would want to ask, but they didn’t include why Jonathan wanted to speak with me in the first place. “I need to start with that,” I said. “If I don’t, Jonathan won’t open up about anything.”
Mason nodded. “It would be good to keep the kids totally out of this, or Lucie will worry every second you’re gone.”
“I know. Lurleen is coming over first thing in the morning with my costume. She’ll take the kids out for breakfast and then she’ll spend time here decorating the yard for Halloween.”
“Good, that should keep everyone occupied.”
I got a text message from Lurleen as we settled into bed. “I’m dropping off your costume tonight, so you can make sure it fits. I’ll leave it by the front door. No EKG machine I’m afraid, so you won’t look like a hospital technician.”
I ran downstairs to wait for her. Hermione let out a low growl when Lurleen pulled up. I opened the door as quietly as I could and Lurleen slipped inside. Hermione’s growl turned into a lot of tail wagging. I led them both upstairs.
“I’m so glad you’re up,” Lurleen said, “I want to see this outfit on you.”
After many adjustments, Lurleen had me looking like a guy. My curly hair was tucked into some kind of hospital cap, the kind of thing a person might wear if he were going into a surgical suite.
“Do you think this will fool anyone?” I asked.
Lurleen nodded. “I know what we’ll do. We’ll have you bring Jonathan a lunch tray. That should work.”
And it did.