“Mom?” Tenley’s rear hurt from sitting on the long wooden bench in the waiting room. She was thinking so hard, it seemed like it made her heavier, the weight of everything on her shoulders and in her brain. There could not be any secret video of her doing anything wrong or embarrassing. Because she’d never done anything. So what had her father been trying to protect her—and their family—from?
The sign on the wall was a circular seal of Boston, like the one in her mother’s office and the one on the wall in her own stupid office, the surveillance room. But underneath this one, the blocky black letters spelled OFFICE OF THE MEDICAL EXAMINER. The police officer, that Sergeant Naka, had asked them to wait here in the little lobby place. “Ten minutes,” she said, looking at a round clock on the wall. The kind with big black numbers and big black pointing arrows. It actually gave a little click as each second went by.
Tenley wondered if time could stop, maybe. Just stop. Or rewind, erase, and start over. The video of their lives, take two. But in real life there were no second chances.
Behind the closed blank metal door, Tenley knew, was her father’s body. Mom had already identified him. The police had called, saying they’d come talk to her later. Mom was really upset.
Now they had to wait for the “effects.” What Dad had in his pockets. She almost couldn’t breathe thinking about that, because some of it was supposed to be about her, but she couldn’t let her mother face this alone. Mom, who was now holding Tenley’s hand maybe for the first time in ten years, stared at the space in front of her. Tenley kind of wanted to let go, but when she gave a little tug, her mom held on tighter.
Brileen sat on the other side of her, clutching her laptop bag as always. Why had she even come along? Tenley still couldn’t decide if Brileen was good or bad. She’d only tried to help, she’d told them. Everything she did was to try to help. But Brileen had made a bunch of really shitty decisions.
Tenley knew how that felt.
Thing was. What Tenley had been thinking about so hard this whole time and throughout the silent drive from City Hall to the medical examiner’s office. The video of Lanna.
“Mom?” Tenley said again. She kept her voice low. It seemed like the thing to do in a place full of dead people.
“Yes, honey?”
Her mom turned, looked over at her, shifted a bit on the bench but still didn’t unclasp her hand. Mom was off in some other world, seemed like, and was almost whispering, too. The clock ticked, one hand moved ahead a little space.
“I know you don’t want to look at the thumb drive video of Lanna,” Tenley said. “Neither do I. But what if it’s connected? What if the person on the video is the person who killed her?”
“No one killed Lanna, Ten.” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “It was an accident.”
“But why was she in the woods?” Tenley had to make Mom at least think about this. “What if she was meeting—whoever it was? And what if that’s who’s on the video? You know what I mean. The horrible video and the boyfriend and the money. And Dad.” Tenley paused, knowing she was running all her words together. “What happened to Dad. Maybe it’s all connected.”
Silence. Except for the stupid clock.
Tenley felt Brileen shift in her seat again, probably embarrassed and humiliated by the whole thing. It was Brileen’s fault, really, some of it, at least.
“You said she had a boyfriend.” Mom interrupted Tenley’s thoughts.
“Yes,” Brileen said.
“Yes,” Tenley said at the same time.
“But you don’t know who it is? Was?”
“No.” They answered separately this time. Tenley remembered even the police couldn’t find him.
Brileen slid farther away, got as close to the end of the bench as possible.
The clock ticked again, so loudly Tenley wondered if it was her imagination. Nothing could be that loud. Six minutes to go.
“Brileen,” Mom said, “may I use your laptop?”
* * *
Jane felt the vibration of her phone through her tote bag, even heard its insistent buzz in the padded silence of the supply room. All eyes were still on wild-eyed Robyn, who’d paused in her tirade. She was watching Jake and DeLuca and the other cop, watching Jane, obviously gauging their reactions.
Jane didn’t believe a word she said. But how to prove she was a liar?
This was Jake’s show. She kept silent, waiting for his cue. Probably Marsh Tyson was calling her, wondering why the hell she was in the middle of this huge story and hadn’t let him know. She’d have to come up with an answer for that one.
Her phone buzzed again. Jake nodded, giving her permission. “Might be—”
True. She hit the green button. “Yes?”
Melissa.
“Can anyone else hear me?” her sister asked.
“No.” Jane checked Jake’s expression, to see if Melissa’s voice had carried. “No.”
“I asked Gracie what you told me to,” Melissa said.
“Okay,” Jane said. “And?”
“I’m going to put her on the phone so you can hear it, firsthand. I think you’ll be interested.”
“Okay.” Jane heard a rustle and a murmur, Melissa handing the phone to the little girl. “Tell Jane what you told me, sweetheart,” she heard Melissa say.
“Hi, Jane,” Gracie said. “I’m sorry I was mean to you.”
“You did exactly the right thing, honey.” The girl sounded so sincere. “I’m proud of you. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Who is that?” Robyn tried to get to her feet. “Who is that?”
“So remember what Melissa asked you?” Jane said, pretending to ignore Robyn’s demand. “Why were you waiting in the lobby, Gracie?”
“She doesn’t know, for heaven’s sake.” Robyn’s voice, disdainful. Dismissive. “You can’t talk to a child. You can’t expect a child to tell the truth.”
Jane smiled at Robyn, a smile of pity and triumph that grew in strength as she heard the truth of what Gracie was saying. The truth of the Rubik’s Cube that was Robyn, her fragmented lies snapping into place. Jane put her hand over the mouthpiece so Gracie, now prattling about Twizzlers and grown-ups running, wouldn’t be distracted.
“What’s wrong with the truth, Robyn?” Jane said. “Perhaps you’d like to hear it for yourself. On speaker.” She poised her finger over the red button, saw Jake nod, saw DeLuca’s thumbs-up.
“Gracie?” Jane said. “Tell me one more time? Why were you waiting in the lobby?”
“Mommy told me to.” Her warble came through the tinny speakers of Jane’s phone. “Mommy told me to go wait in the lobby. She said not to talk to anyone. She said Daddy was going to be busy, and going out of town for a long, long time, so I should wait for her, that she would come get me. Add that’s what I did.”